Lisa

Oh boy, my post about humans being the lowest creatures on Earth has stirred a lot of people. Even my own dad wondered what the heck got into me! :-) Let me tell you a little story, just to show you once more what I mean.

This is Lisa. She's a two-year old cross-breed between a wolf and a dog and a rare but typical dog of these Emilian mountains. Her pedigree says "Apennine Sheperd Dog", a species which isn't internationally recognised yet but which they're trying very hard to make official. In Italian they commonly say "cane lupo" or "wolf-dog" because of her parentage. They were bred especially to guard sheep or goats because their scent is very similar to that of a wolf and therefore no wolf would dare to come closer because they take it that it is the territory of another pack of wolves. But their character is mostly that of a common dog, even more so because they're very calm and incredibly kind. This is her story...

Lisa (or originally named "Birba" like nearly all of her female kind is called, but we quickly changed that) was a dog that stole our hearts right from the first moment we saw her. One of the local sheep-farmers had bought her to guard his flock and since his stable is right down the main road through Carù, we nearly saw her every day. That's because... she was always tied to the stable wall with a heavy chain. During winter, when it's freezingly cold, or summer, when it's very hot and without the slightest bit of shadow to hide in. There she was. One hot summer day when she was still very young, we heard her screaming in agony because the sun was burning mercilessly upon her and she hadn't got a single drop of water. Christine immediately went to the owner's son, a good lad, and under the pretext of wanting to see his new dog, she asked if they could go down to her and give her something to drink. "Later", he replied, "when I've finished my game of football". As I said, he's a good kid. The problem is that this is the way people reason around here and hence this is how he got educated. It's ok to put dogs on a short chain in the baking sun all day without water because they'll manage. Over here, an animal is nothing more than a tool which you can simply dispose of if it doesn't function properly. And this is exactly what happened to Lisa.

As it turned out, Lisa wasn't the excellent sheperd the farmer had hoped for (between you and me, I seriously doubt whether he's really done any effort to train her) and so she had to go. Last Saturday, when Christine passed with the car, he suddenly waved at her and asked her to stop. "Would you like a dog", he asked her, knowing that we're animal lovers. Christine was a bit stunned by this to-the-point question and asked him what this was all about. So he explained that Lisa was no good to him and therefore either she had to go to an asylum or  she had to be put down. Which over here boils down to the same thing anyway. Christine felt gutted and couldn't believe that this was happening to this absolutely beautiful and kind dog. We had already been wondering about a dog for some time, mainly to keep foxes away from our chickens (we lost all of our chickens to foxes, by the way) and chase hunters' dogs out. And knowing that these wolf-dogs are so lovely we'd always said that if we ever got one it should be one of these. But then again, our cats would probably veto so we never did take a dog, also because a dog is much more of a responsibility than a cat. A cat will take care of itself and only come to you on its terms. Having a dog is like having a baby... you have to take care of it and spend a lot of time together. We weren't sure that we would be able to do that, given my autism, Christine's chronic fatigue and the care for our cats which already consumes a lot of our time and energy. But hence we were put before a terrible ordeal. Either we'd accept Lisa as a new member of our family, or she would be put down. 

Guess what we did? We took her. And with great joy, as a matter of fact. For the moment she's still tied to the stable because we want her shelter and everything else ready for her. But twice a day we pay her a visit, feed her decent dog food in stead of the rubbish and leftovers she's used to (she eats so frantically that she'd nearly choke, that's how much she's afraid that she won't get any more food!) and take her for a good walk. She absolutely loves to walk and Christine and I can't wait to take her to the wonderful trails that lead through our mountains. A couple of days ago we also already took her to the vet (who didn't know what to say anymore... after everything he's already been through with us! :-) ) and when she gets home we'll give her a nice bath and a good brushing, because the state she's in for the moment is absolutely appalling. 

We feel reassured because she's so gentle and relaxed. Cats pass by all the time and she doesn't try to run after them at all. Dogs are barking all around her and she doesn't bark back. She actually doesn't bark at all, except when Christine and I go home again. She also doesn't smell at all, and considering her condition that's pretty amazing. Something that put Christine and I off regarding dogs in the past, is that they usually smell pretty badly, apart from Huskies apparently. Is it because, just like the Husky, also she is closely related to the wolf? We don't know, but she hardly smells. It remains to be seen whether she'll be just as calm with our cats, but we're pretty certain she will. After all, the cats keep the house at least until it gets very cold again and in the beginning we'll keep her on a (long) leash in our field, partly protected by the trees and with a decent shelter at hand. The aim is that she'll get to know our field, claim it as her territory and remain in this area even without a leash. Although at night we'll still tie her up, just to be sure. And of course we'll take her out on a good walk every day. It's a good incentive to keep up my own condition as well because it's been lacking a bit these last few months. 

And judging by this last picture, do you think she's happy we took her?... 

Yellow gold

It wouldn't be fair to talk about the Black Gold which is produced in our region (and nowhere else in the world! - see my post of January 16th), without mentioning another unique product that the Emilian Apennines are world-famous for: "il Parmigiano-Reggiano", or "Parmesan cheese" in English. The word "Parmesan" again doesn't really live up to the truth because just like the Balsamic vinegar which is generally thought to originate from Modena, this particular cheese originates from Reggio Nell'Emilia and it is in this Italian province that you find the most and best cheese factories. Please, forget the powdery stuff that you can find in your (non-Italian) supermarket which tastes likes a bicycle tyre! This is made from the leftovers that no true Italian would dare to put on the table and is therefore sold for export, to the ignorant foreigners. The real Parmesan cheese is a superb-quality product and one of the finest cheeses in the world. But you'd probably already guessed that after I explained the difference between real Balsamic vinegar and the stuff that most of the non-Italians are used to. Italians are very proud of their national heritage and tend to keep it for themselves. Who are we to blame them? :-)

The Italian cuisine is basically "uncomplicated", a word that I certainly don't mean to use in a negative way. It's a cuisine that still carries a long tradition of poor people trying to make the best with what they'd got. But with these few and "simple" ingredients, they managed to create food worthy of a table of kings. The Parmesan cheese is no exception to that rule, on the contrary. It's a cheese that is the result of excellent craftsmanship and above all... a lot of patience, although not as much as with Balsamic vinegar which, as you may recall, can take up to at least 25 years to mature for the "gold label" brand.

Another unique feature about this cheese is that it's generally produced by a cooperative of local farmers and cheese-makers. Cooperatives are quite common in Italy and provide a lot of advantages, the most important one is that the cost for the factory and equipment can be shared. Also the farmers benefit because their salary becomes a part of the cheese sale, rather than having to depend on the ever-fluctuating price of milk. All people participating in the process have their share and hence benefit from this extensive cooperation. 

Early in the morning, the milk is collected and driven to the factory, where it's pumped into conical-shaped fermenting vats. The amount and the kinds of whey, the temperatures and the fermenting times are all at the discretion of the master cheese-maker and they all have their own little secrets. So again, like is the case with Balsamic vinegar, no two Parmesan cheeses are alike and some cheese factories have a better reputation than others. Christine and I have visited many factories and tasted many cheeses personally and we can only concur to that statement. All in all, we want to give our (foreign) guests nothing but the best and want to be absolutely certain that when we give an advice about which factory to visit that it's a very good one. The blokes you can see in these pictures are all highly skilled and produce some of the finest Parmesan cheeses that we've come across so far.

Next, the cheese becomes solid and is pulled out of the rest of the milk with a piece of cloth. 

 Then it is put into a double mould. The inner part (which you can see in the picture) is made of plastic and stamps the well-known dots, the name of the factory and date of production in the cheese. Around this plastic mould, a metal spring-mould is fastened which presses the cheese together and will give it its final shape.

The cheeses are then put into a bath of salted water for 20 to 25 days - again depending on the cheese-maker's experience. 

And then the moulds are removed and the cheeses end up in the storage room for at least twelve months. Although - personally - I always go for the 30-month cheese because its taste is so much stronger and spicier still. Every now and then the cheeses are checked by experts who can evaluate their quality by the sound of a small hammer tapping on the cheese. The "failed" cheeses are mercilessly pulled out of the shelves, branded as "insufficient quality" by means of long, parallel carvings on the crust and then... yes... usually sold for export. What do we know what these carvings mean anyway... :-)  

The result is a cheese which is almost a pity to grate and throw on your spaghetti Bolognese. No, it's a cheese which perfectly holds its own and goes down well with an excellent glass of Primitivo or Montepulciano. 

Salute!

Autism and animals

I knew that my post about humans being the lowest creatures on Earth would create a bit of a controversy. And indeed it did because for the first time I received a couple of personal reactions, most of which were in a sense that animals are nonetheless inferior to humans or that having children is what we should do. There was even a lady stating that "humans have a soul whilst animals have not". I was inclined to ask her at what point in evolution humans received that soul then, but in the end didn't because surely also evolution is a doubtful theory and the truth is that women are only made of a man's spare parts. :-)

All jokes aside, I'd like to come back on the subject of animals because of their influence on autistic people. It's a subject that's quite popular on the various autism blogs and fora these days so I'd also like to give my contribution.

Personally, if I have to look deep down in my soul... (:-)) animals have always been my very best friends. Much more so than humans. The reasons for this are quite obvious:

- Animals only give true love and friendship, whereas human friendship's often fake or conditional. Perhaps this is yet another reason why humans are actually lower creatures than animals? Animals will never lie and always be devoted to you no matter what.  

- Making friends with an animal is easy. You don't need to go through the whole social bullshit phase before you can consider it a friend. You don't even have to talk! Just give the animal your love and you'll get it back a thousandfold! 

Now let's combine this piece of knowledge with autism. Why is it so difficult for autistic people to make friends? Because first of all we've got great difficulties communicating. As I already said, we don't understand words at all. We're completely unable to think in words. The only thing we can reason with are images and believe me, it takes an enormous effort trying to translate the things that are said to us into images and worse, trying to translate these images back into words which other people may understand. That's why we often say the wrong things, or nothing at all. We're under so much pressure to talk, that we'll say just about anything, hoping that it's well received by the other person. With the obvious result that the others will quickly regard us as "weirdos" and don't want to be friends with us at all, even though we've got so much friendship to offer. 

With animals, things are completely different. The animal will automatically feel our friendship and give it back. Can you imagine what a relief this is to us, to have a friend that doesn't demand social or communicative skills from us? That's why animals are not only our closest friends, but they're also the only creatures that manage to calm us down when we're overly frustrated or angry because we can't cope with this busy world anymore. They just radiate their love to us and we can let go of all worries. 

And then there is the honesty factor. Do you know what scares autistic people so much about social interaction, perhaps even more so than our fear of not being able to say the right things? Jokes, figurative speech, lies and all other forms of false or indirect communication. Since we don't understand words as such and have to translate them into images, we don't see any difference between a sentence being used "normally" and the same sentence being used as a joke or in a figurative way. And so we are usually the ones who don't understand the joke, think that it truly happened and once again we become the laughing stock of all the others. How terribly frustrating! I've been trying to teach myself the noble art of figurative speech and jokes for ages, with some success I might add, but still I often get it wrong, in spite of all my experience. Logical, because my "experience" just means that I try to remember certain phrases or jokes after I've discovered they were actually jokes and if the same thing is said to me a second time, chances are that I still remember and recognise the joke. Unless... the words are slightly altered. Or even worse! That this time it's not a joke but it's for real! And then I'm the only one laughing and all the rest are staring at me like "what's so funny about that?". 

No, no, no... Thinking about communicating already makes my head spin. So please excuse me but I prefer my cats to humans because they'll remain my friends forever, even if I don't speak to them. And they don't use any figurative speech either. They just lay their heads on my chest and touch my face with one of their little paws in order to say "I love you". And I love them too... with all of my heart.

After the euphoria... the delusion

No, it's not our Thomas. After almost a week we managed to catch the cat we really believed was him. But when we took it to the vet, our hopes were shattered because this cat hadn't got any id chip between its shoulders. The vet also said that it's very well possible that a cat's fur becomes a lot clearer in the dare circumstances that we found it in, but not its muzzle. And since our Thomas definitely had a black face and this one was grey... No, it wasn't to be... 

Were we blinded by hope and despair? Didn't we see the obvious signs such as its different gaze or its different meow? The absence of fluffy points of hair on its ears? The fact that this cat was so wild and didn't recognise the name "Thomas" at all? Perhaps... But you'll certainly agree that it was a terrible coincidence. According to the people in the village, this cat turned up two months ago, exactly when our Thomas disappeared. It also resembled our Thomas so very much, with its "lion collar", yellow eyes and fluffy tail... also its posture was very much like the typical Norwegian Forest cat, with the unmistakable sharp curve in its back when it was sitting upright. Who would believe that here in the Italian "outback" there would be two cats so very much alike? We certainly didn't believe so...

Now we've still got one little sparkle of hope left. A lady told us that it's in fact possible that there were two similar cats around, one of which actually belongs to a man who recently moved to this village. When this lady accidentally saw the cat we believed to be Thomas, she asked this man whether his cat hadn't escaped, but he replied: "No, no, mine's right here". So, are there two of them? Could it be possible that this man threw his own cat out on the street and got our Thomas instead, just because Thomas looks so much more handsome and is so much friendlier and good-humoured? Believe me, we're going to find out! What luck that Thomas indeed has the microchip so we can actually prove he's ours... That is, if he's with that man indeed... 

Humans are the lowest creatures on Earth - part 2

In order to illustrate what I wrote yesterday, here are a few pictures of Thomas, "before" and "after". 

Thomas playing with Flora in the snow...

Proudly showing off his summer-coat...

And this is what he looks like now, scared, mutilated, with a big swelling on his nose and puss coming out of the tear-channel in his eyes. I don't know about you but I would vote for exactly the same treatment to be given to the bastard who did this than he did to Thomas. There is a significant difference between just chasing a stray cat away because it annoys you and beating it up like this. People who do this to animals do not deserve the predicate "human" at all.