Rescued

Sienna

Rescue

An article in the local newspaper a day or so ago told about a dog rescued from an abusive home. She'd been tied up so tightly that her leather harness and chain cut all the way to the bone. Now she is the friend and helper of a man who has acute Parkinson's disease. The man says she is the child he never had.

Although the road can be bumpy, I have nothing but good things to say about rescuing a dog or cat that otherwise would be thrown on the trash heap. About 17 months ago, we also took in a rescue dog, a 50-pound Labrador Retriever/Shar-Pei mix named Sienna, who was found wandering somewhere in Pinellas County, Florida. She had four puppies in tow. The animal shelter to which she was taken weaned the puppies and fully intended to euthanize Sienna, who was big and could be wild when she was excited. But then, as now, she loved people, other dogs and even cats. An animal rescue group stepped in and said, "No way."

At first, our relationship was rocky. Sienna had been bounced around so much to this home and that and to more than one shelter that she had developed extreme separation anxiety. We tried to teach her to go into a dog crate so that we could go to church or a movie and not worry. She was having none of it and salivated so much when locked up that there were literally pools on the kitchen floor when we arrived home. Our previous dog, also a rescue, had readily gone into the crate, so what was wrong with this one?

Our vet said tranquilizers might help and gave us a prescription. They were to be used "as needed," which, for a while, was every time we left the house. We had a routine. We put soothing music on the radio. We tossed one of Ed's dirty t-shirts into the crate, along with a stuffed lamb we called "baby" and a bone to chew on. We also purchased one of those stretchy shirts, which, when strapped tightly in place with Velcro, is said to reduce anxiety. We bought a rubber toy, called a Kong, and put peanut butter inside.

All this made only a marginal difference in the puddles of saliva.

A friend who trained dogs for urban search and rescue teams suggested putting the crate in a bathroom, leaving the cage door open. He said to feed Sienna every meal in the crate, also with the door open, so she'd associate it with pleasure. When we got ready to go away, he suggested we lure Sienna into the bathroom and shut the door, saying, "We'll be back."

The first time we tried that she chewed off about two feet of the door frame in an effort to escape. Who knows what she would have done to the sofa had she been loose in the rest of the house. When we were at home, she never attempted to chew anything that wasn't one of her toys.

One night when we went to a movie, Sienna ripped the door through to its hollow core. Ed nailed up a metal sheet to cover the hole. We dreaded coming home, wondering how many wood chips and how much saliva we'd find in the hall outside the bathroom.

Our dog-trainer friend said to be persistent. We were, and we were generous too with praise when she deserved it and plenty of love. Gradually, over about eight months, the saliva became less, and the chewing stopped. We let the tranquilizer prescription run out and, finally, put away the stretchy shirt. We moved the crate back into the kitchen and began shutting the door with her in it when we left. Sienna was usually asleep when we returned home. There was no whining or barking, no chewing and no salivating.

We won, and we think she did, too.

Unintended Consequences

How they got there, nobody seems to know, but the fact is that Burmese Pythons have overtaken the Everglades. Some experts think there may be as many as 100,000, and they have no natural enemies. Instead, they are eating alligators, wading and songbirds, deer, raccoons, rats and mice - and changing the balance of nature.

The most popular theory is that several years ago a couple of people decided they could no longer cope with the snakes they were keeping as pets and turned them loose in the Everglades. When the two pythons found each other, the rest is history. I suspect that more than two people were involved and more than two snakes.

If south Florida had below freezing temperatures of some duration in winter, the pythons, which can grow to be more than 15 feet long, might die off. But temperatures less than 32 degrees typically occur only on a few winter nights and last only a few hours - not long enough to kill off large numbers of these huge snakes.

Attempts have been made in the past by the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission to conduct python hunts in the Everglades, but serious control won't happen if just a few uniformed guys hunt down and kill a few big snakes. The area where they can be hiding is vast, 1 1/2 million acres in Everglades National Park alone, and the snakes apparently are smart at eluding humans.

This weekend, a hunt for amateurs has been organized, with a prize of $1,500 going to whoever kills the most pythons. So far, 500 have signed up to take part. I hope they are alert enough to dodge the alligators. 

A New Taste

While living on Montserrat, we became acquainted with an unusual vegetable grown there, the "christophene." Pear-shaped with a bumpy, pale green or ivory-colored skin, the christophene is a member of the gourd family, like squash or melon. It is bland tasting and can be somewhat bitter unless cooked.

Christophene or Chayote

The christophene is a vegetable with many names: In the United States, when you can find them, christophenes are called "chayotes." Names in other parts of the world are "mirliton" or "cho-cho." Originally native to Mexico and Central America, christophenes are now grown in South America, Australia and New Zealand as well as Florida. A part-time neighbor of ours in southwest Florida grows them abundantly in the Orlando area and shares them with us when he and his wife drive down for a weekend of fishing.

These vegetables can grow sprawling on the ground like pumpkins or cantaloupe, or vertically on a fence or trellis.

Eating christophenes raw is rare, but here is a recipe I like. It is from the Montserrat Cookbook, published in 1973 to benefit the Montserrat Old People's Welfare Association.

Christophene Salad

2 raw christophenes, peeled, cored and grated

1/2 tsp. salt

1 medium carrot, grated

2 green onions, finely chopped

1 package lime gelatin

1 cup hot water

1 Tbsp. lime juice

1/2 cup cold water

Add salt to christophenes and let stand 1/2 hour. Drain. Dissolve gelatin in hot water. Add lime juice and cold water. When the gelatin is cool and just beginning to set, stir in the vegetables. Pour into a mold or pan and chill.