Benvenuti, Bienvenue, Bienvenida, Hos geldin, مرحبا بكم, ברוכים הבאים, Welcome!

Hi there,

Welcome to my little corner of the planet. It may change physically, but my life is always evolving and things are always happening; sometimes hysterical, sometimes heart-wrenching, but never, ever dull. Masallah!

Nicole Silverman, Zazoo's Mama

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Jumpin'Jahosephats or...

...don't EVER say to the Jewel, or anyone, "I don't have any material."  A few hours after my prolific statement, the little rascals were at it again.



The Jewel and I were about five hours into a photo shoot yesterday. The weather has been nice so I let Mr. Zaz into the garden.  I must say, he's been a peach lately and ilili has been the trouble maker. I didn't check on him for at least an hour. Actually, I was totally immersed in my work. Then it dawned on me to glance out the den windows. Well, no Zazoo. Ok, sometimes he's hidden. I went to another window, then another.

Boots came off, slippers on and I told the Jewel to "man the engines," which means to start the car and I ran through the garden just to be sure he wasn't hiding. I wasn't in panic mode yet as I called his name. There wasn't a breach in the fence. WTF? I looked up and saw an exhausted Zazoo, with his head down and tongue drooping low in the neighbors yard. Son of a bitch.

I told Al to kill the engines and we jumped over the brick wall with a bottle of water, a plastic container to quench his thirst and treats in case I had to bribe him. Poor Zazoo came right to us and lapped up copious amounts of water as I pulled twigs, rose bush branches and Larchmont tree pods out out of his dense fur.

Poor Zazoo must have sprinted over the wall in pursue of his dinner but didn't dine. His beard was clean and he was exhausted. He obviously didn't find the breakout point to exit their property and the front gates were locked. Hah, hah, hah, Mr. Smarty!  And my good fortune so I didn't have to drive through the posh streets calling for him.

Just like it was planned, the wild goose chaser drove through the gate. I explained why we were there so he wouldn't call 5-0. I saddled up Joseph, Sweet Lucile's nickname for Zazoo. I wanted to name him Al Joharah, which means jewel of the Nile, but in the current world climate and the fact that I usually live in predominately Jewish neighbourhoods, she calls him Jo. Yelling out an Arabic name will simply bring more attention to my wacky family that I definitely don't want or need.

So we marched through their property past the pool and overlook to Long Island Sound and marched through the Day School to slip through the gate that will give us entrance to our road instead of marching through the whole 28 acres. It was really nice to be on both huge properties. I secretly promised Zaz that we will live on a piece of land like this someday.

Well, poor Zazoo was exhausted so I let him rest at least a half hour after his drink before I fed him and marched him. The chances for a bloat attack are greatly diminished following this rule. I was exhausted too, but we went out for dinner.

Sal's Pizza, Mamaroneck Ave. Mamaroneck. NY.

Zazoo barked incessantly as I turned the key upon our return. I shouted over him, "it's Mommy, Zazoo," but he wouldn't pipe down. I also heard a soft scratch at the door. He only does that when he wants to come in. Strange. As I pushed the door open slowly, I saw a little golden ball who tried to squirm out. Son of a bitch! How the heck did she get out of her cage?

I immediately went into panic mode. I didn't puppy-proof the house but I did pick up after myself even though I couldn't see straight. I pushed wiggle bunny back into her home and assessed the damage. One pair of rubber thongs chewed...that's it. She piddled on the wee-wee pads that I left for Zazoo and one pile of poopie, not on the paper. God or Mother Nature or the ghosts of my Nanas sure watched over me!

What a day! The photo shoot was fun and productive and the drama, all in all, quite minimal. Best case scenario for a little rascal "drive Mommy crazy day." Now there's a fastener clip on her door.  Did she jiggle the door open or did Zazoo?  I'll never know.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Revised body count or...

...is this getting ridiculous or what?

This week has been either a "good catch" week for Zazzy, or pretty horrible for the wild animal community in Orienta.  Since the last body count, he caught a greyish-brown bird on Monday and another skunk on Tuesday. Photo above.  This one only cost ten bucks to the Mexicans who were working on the big house next door to shovel said skunk into a black plastic bag. So, I guess I'm ahead of the game...for now.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Baby ilili..

Like I don't have enough to keep me busy, I have the Gaul to bring another Afghan into the fold. Her name is Ilili, which is Lebanese for "tell me," which she does. She is quite vocal, almost silly at times and probably thinks the way she communicated with her furry mama is the way to communicate with me. she's such a sweetie. She's about 12 weeks now and she's gained two pounds since her last vet visit with Dr. Vierra two weeks ago. Her legs are incredibly long already and she loves to chase Zazoo around because he has no time for her playfulness. She doesn't understand that. She thinks it's his way of playing. So now the craziness starts. It doesn't stop until I put her into her cave/ crate, where shell sleep quietly and peacefully for awhile. Thank God! Ilili loves to play, especially in the garden, where she found fallen pods from the rain-deprived trees quite fascinating. As she scampers about, inevitably, she gets caught up in her lead and rolls around like a bear cub as she makes little growling, frustrated noises. I have to keep a lead on her so I can catch her when she tries to slip under the gate or wants to chase Zazoo when he's stalking his next meal.

She knows how to use wee wee pads and will potie when I bring her out after a meal or a drink. She's a clean girl, as most Afghans are, as I've discovered through the years.

She knows her name and to come when I say it. I hope she continues this as the breed can be terribly aloof and ignore when they don't have an interest. She loves to meet people. Such a lovely little creature and puts a smile on my face...most of the time.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Looking for a new home for my growing family or...

...will the wildlife survive my wild ones?

So, it's that time of year again and the winds of change will be blowing in soon. That means it's time for this September baby to be moving on. Ended with preposition. Oh well. Anyway, I searched the net for a new home for us. I found a few possibilities in the North Country, Upper Westchester, that is, but the Black Hawk's driver would like to have us close to her.  It's a mom thing, I gather.

So we pulled up in the Black Hawk to see a small property in the 'hood that was way too small and the ancient owner way too controlling about where I could sit or not sit in her bloody garden. Mama gave me the "ixnay" look, so I thanked the old witch politely and we took off back to Skibo Cottage. As we were about to turn into my lane, I asked Mama Lucy to steer the Black Hawk into a long, gated drive with huge evergreens and shade trees everywhere. She balked, but I pushed. She did finally.

It's on two manicured acres.  She's huge; a three story, turn of the century Dutch colonial set back from the road, down a long driveway and adjacent to the day schools' woods which are opposite Skibo Cottage. There is a huge three story barn in the back that I wanted to see.  As we approached, we saw a good sized deer with antlers next to the wishing well in the side yard.  We thought it was a cheesy statue until it moved.  Sweet baby Jesus!  There are more critters in this 'hood than when I was in Upper, Upper.

Local legend and yentahs said the owners were dead and the house just sat. I walked up the creaky old stairs to the main house while sweet Lucy waited patiently. It was old and dark, even on this sunny day.  Just like an old scary movie.  Good thing Lucy was in the Black Hawk with the motor running.  I was scared; but a good scared. Excited, actually.

Perhaps the caretaker was around. Of course no one answered the bell but it gave me time to look through the windows. Leaded glass; just like my entry hall and door. That's how I dated the house. This house had several sets of French doors that opened to the stoop, if that's the right word. Some of these were leaded glass with colored glass as well. Wow we woo hoo!

The front hall looked huge and the staircase and sunshine came through the stained glass with a family crest. I also saw two sets of pocket doors leading off the hall.

Good enough for me.

So I walked down the stairs and gestured to Lucy that I was headed to the back to investigate the barn. I couldn't see much except for the teenage deer who watched me from the overgrown garden. As I returned to the Black Hawk, I saw a little Jeep had pulled up. Mama talked to this lovely old Italian man who had a landscape company name on the side of the vehicle.  We will know more soon.

In the meantime, sweet Lucy said she couldn't stop thinking about this grand old girl so I called the landscaper to arrange for us to view it.  Who knows?  It could be our next "tent".



Will keep you updated. 

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Opps, he did it again or...

...or why being Zazoo's Mama keeps me on my toes.

A week to the day after the Skunk Incident, we had the Jack Wabbit Incident. Good ol' Zaz flew out the doors at dawn to a squirrel, two birds and a rabbit who scattered when they caught wind of him. Well, the bunny didn't make it through the fencing. I yelled for Zaz to release the poor creature and he squeaked a frantic few times then he went silent.

This damned Afghan was very proud of himself as he did a parade trot with head and tail held high around the garden with the limp Wabbit in his mouth. He was a big one.  Zaz put him down but wouldn't come to me. As I approached him, he grabbed said Wabbit and took off to another part of the garden to dine on his fresh breakfast. Baby Ilili wanted some but I kept her at a distance by leash. I can't have her sick with only one shot so far.

When Zazoo finished, I threw a large terra cotta pot over the remains and the nice Village of Mamaroneck garbage collectors, Aka, the bin boys, came with a shovel and took it away.

Then I had the pleasure of washing fur, fat and gristle out of his beard and ears. I wanted to vomit. That was the worse part: up close and personal. Uff Uff Uff!

After he dried, I brought him in. Before I knew it, he jumped on the table to sleep off his breakfast. Cheeky Afghan!

Monday, July 25, 2011

Skunked again or for a split second when I woke up this morning...

...I thought to myself, "Wow, I don't have any plans for today.". Man, did that change in a heartbeat. It was about 5:40 AM and I thought I had time for a coffee and then yoga at six with Priscilla from WLIW Ch 21. So I used the Loo and Mr. Zaz was at the door and he asked to go, too, with cute puppy dog eyes. I walked halfway through the garden to chase critters, birds and beasts but none to be had. So I returned to the front doors and let him out. Instead of running out like Algebra at Aqueduct's last race, he slithered out like a panther who stalked a much-needed meal. He has done this a few times so I thought nothing of this behavior. Over the din of the Telly and air-con, I heard something. I was answering mail and I thought it was baby ilili. It wasn't, as she quietly played at my feet.

I stood up and looked out to see Zazoo as he shook something frantically in his mouth.  It was black. It was black and white.  Oh no! Bloody skunk. I ran out and yelled to no avail.  I backed off so as not to be sprayed.  I'm not even sure if I knew if he squirted at this point.  Eventually, Zazoo dropped it and it crawled away.  I went for Zaz's collar and he screamed and dropped to the grass to wipe his face. Shit, shit, shit! He was hit. He screamed like nothing I've ever heard before. Poor, poor child.My heart ached.


I had baby ilili under my arm and a screaming boy in my other hand. How I managed to get thru two doors is still one of those mysteries that happens in overdrive.   He got away from me when we got inside.  Poor Zaz smooshed his face into the leather couch and howled.  I managed to grab him and got him upstairs but first brushed his hair out of his face to see if there was any physical damage from the skunk. I felt something prickly. What? It was part of the plastic netting of the fence.  I hoped it didn't poke or scratch his eyes.  I removed it and saw foamy pink that oozed out his mouth as he wretched.  Oh God, blood?  I rinsed his mouth and eyes with nasal saline and he didn't have any more pink foam.  So I guess it was skunk blood.  The skunk spray temporarily blinds the animal, so I led him upstairs to the bathroom and quickly made a paste of baking soda and peroxide to smear into affected areas. Poor Zoo.  He stopped howling but tried to clean his eyes on anything vertical, including me.  So, as this poor child stood there with white paste all over his face, ears, next, chest and paws, I continued to rinse his eyes.  We got into the shower and washed it off; carefully and slowly.  Then I re-applied the paste and did a proper wash and conditioner. He started to smell better; pretty nice, in fact.  My senses had been assaulted.

Poor, poor doggie was so upset AND he didn't use the loo, I realized he peed on the floor and when his rear legs went weak in the shower, I thought he was going to expire; he pooped instead.  I was so happy. They say when you're about to die your muscles slacken and everything comes out. Oy vey.  But my best friend was ok.

What an ordeal I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  I'm happy to report Mr.  Zazoo is fine.  And he still wants to kill the skunk.  I didn't let him out in the garden alone for a few days because he went right to the spot and pounced and paced.  I saw the skunk a few hours  later as he went into his hole just beyond the garden fence.  So did Zaz.  So the story's not over quite yet.

I found Greg Jahner, of Wildlife Services, Inc, 914-420-6385, who serves the entire Tri-state area, who appeared promptly at 5 PM the same day.  He saw the den and in lieu of 650 usd for traps, he found a big rock and placed it on top of their home to suffocate the injured skunk.  He said it would probably die from his injuries anyway and for the rest of the family...oh well.  It's better than 650 usd a few times.  He charged 150 usd for the rock positioning maneuver.

He suggested I call Zaz's vet to see if shots were up-to-date.  A rabies booster was required, so we schlepped to the vet the next morning.  The lovely Dr. Vierra administered the injection painlessly and that's it.  End of story.  I hope, inshallah!http://www.rhvh.com/

Zazoo's Mama: Skunked again or for a split second when I woke up this morning...