A Dignified Life, In Memory

It's Memorial Day weekend, a weekend all about remembrances and parades. It's a weekend to remember the heros.

From now on, I'll be remembering a different sort of hero. Our lovely dog Dylan, who had a life filled with love. He spent Saturday morning chasing chipmunks, around 7pm began to act strange, jumped up in bed with us when we went to sleep, then jumped down at 3am and collapsed after taking just two steps.

We rushed him to Friendship Animal Hospital. Dr. Bier was kind, straightforward and empathic when she told us he had muffled heart sounds and a lot of fluid of unknown type around his heart. As we considered surgical intervention and whether we should put Dylan through anything like that, the doctor came back out to the waiting room and said she thought he was trying to die. We rushed to him, held him and felt his life end just twenty minutes after we first walked through the door.

It's been pretty sad around the Barrow household. Both of us are traumatized, but we can feel the pain and shock lifting, and we remind eachother how much love he gave, and how much we loved him.

Dylan ....
scruffier than you can imagine
as goofy a dog as I've ever known
loyal, kind, happy, gentle
tolerated our cat, Beans, but any cat outside was fair game
waited every night for the neighborhood fox to appear on the street, then barked his head off
also barked at owls
but only occasionally barked when someone came to the door
hated the little black dog who roams the neighborhood and growled and chased him off the front lawn regularly
walked with a spring in his step, and sometimes boing-ed
once caught a squirrel, then dropped it when Dennis said "drop"
was the fussiest eater, but loved Smith Family Farm's liver treats, which we used to garnish his dinner every night
had four coat options, including an orange raincoat
never did anything destructive
wouldn't let you pick him up
could scream and cry his head off, and did it as a pre-emptive strike when he was frightened
every night, had a bedtime snack of peanut butter and a biscuit in his Kong
slept in our bed, usually with his back against me, and his feet touching Dennis
talked in his sleep
never spent a day in a kennel once we adopted him
went everywhere with us, making friends
made dog-lovers out of even those people who don't like dogs much
made children squeal with delight
was incredibly gentle and polite when offered a cookie
ran crop circles with his buddy Henry, and sometimes by himself
loved his walks in the woods, especially balancing along fallen trees
didn't swim, but liked to walk in the creek and get  his tummy wet
chased chipmunks around the back garden
loved nothing more than being with the two of us, and we felt the same way

We'll bring another dog home one of these days. It will be another scruffy terrier mix, because we like 'em. The dog won't be Dylan, we realize that, but that next dog will have the same Dog's Life this sweet little fellow had.

Thanks go out to all of you who have left messages, called and written to express your sympathy. Dylan touched so many people in so many ways and the outpouring of love has been amazing.

We're glad to have known him. And we're starting to heal. Here's a link to the Flickr set - a Dylan Photo Gallery

Special thanks go to
Winchester, Virginia SPCA
Collins Animal Hospital and Dr. Jay Merker
Friendship Animal Hospital and Dr. Bier
Betsy Pritchard and Smith Family Farms
Bethesda Central Farm Market vendors who knew and loved Dylan
PetMac for high quality dog and cat foods and open crates of treats from which Dylan helped himself
And, especially, Portia Wood and her two dog loving children, Jack and Violet, and her dogs through the years - Goldie, Holly, Jones, Henry and Mystic. A place where Dylan always felt safe.

Talking Turkey at Smith Meadows Farm

Just a few days ago, I spent a wonderful morning with the Pritchard family at Smith Meadows Farm in Berryville, Virginia. The farm has been in the family, and producing, since the early 19^th century. A few years back, Betsy and Forrest made the decision to focus full time on running the farm. It’s a family affair, for sure, with their mother running the B&B (and joining in the farm work between guest stays); and, Forrest’s wife, Nancy, making delectable pasta and sauces.

Driving through an ancient orchard along the driveway, sheep raise their heads to see who is coming. The pigs are having a fantastic time under the trees, finding windfall apples - snarfling and snuffling. I had to stop, open the windows and listen. So tame, they came to the fence, clearly looking for goodies.

At the end of the drive is a Dutch/Federal style Manor House with narrow buildings on either side – dependencies -all fashioned from bricks made on the premises. It's a picture-perfect Virginia farm. Across the 400 acres, there are rolling pastures where cattle, sheep and pigs graze. I head up to a large fenced area that holds all the poultry in a grassy field. When I visited in July, there were ducks, turkeys and chickens. Today, it's just turkeys and chickens. (See my Duck tales.)

I’ve been a customer for several years, but this year, I wanted to know more about the bird on my Thanksgiving table, and that's why I am at the farm.

Betsy and I walked up the hill to the field where the turkeys were grazing on grass behind a small, makeshift fence. The fence is a new addition, moving with the turkeys as they are relocated for fresh grass (they really do a number on the grass in a very short time!) The fence had to be erected recently when coyote and fox started taking young birds. Sadly, one coyote killed nine turkeys, eating only one, leaving behind eight bloody corpses. Serious frustration for the turkey farmer!

Smith Meadows raises two commercial breeds – the broad breasted white and the broad breasted bronze. When asked why no heritage breeds, the answer came down to dollars and sense. Heritage chicks cost more than twice as much as commercial chicks, and they have a higher mortality rate. All I know is Betsy’s got some tasty birds. They’ve graced my holiday table for the last five years.

Betsy says she learned some good lessons this year with her brood of 300. Chicks arrive in the mail in June and July, staggered across a few weeks. In fact, those started in July did better than those started earlier. Better weather, more consistent warmth. The birds are raised to a particular weight, not for particular number of days, aiming for 10-14 lbs. Evidently, with smaller families, the days of the 25# turkey are over. I say, good riddance to dried out turkey - roast two smaller birds instead! Betsy calls and talks to the turkeys as we walk among them. They're definitely interested in us, chattering and preening.

Betsy and Forrest started selling directly to the customer in 1996 through farmers markets around the Washington, DC metro area. They currently raise about 4000 chickens each year, as well as the turkeys. At any time, they might have 200 cows, 125 hogs and 800 laying hens. And lamb. Heaven. Their lamb is some of the best I've ever tasted - I assumed it was due to the rich green pastures, but Betsy explained the efforts she's made to balance the minerals they take in - minerals that are critical to a lamb's health.

We walked down to the processing house where turkeys were meeting their maker. It was quick and humane. That's all I need to say. No screaming. No anxiety.

Once dispatched, the bird is quickly scalded and then put in a gentle tumbling plucking machine. When the feathers are off, the bird is passed back to the stainless steel processing tables. Here, the two farm interns (hard to believe that's the same smiling face I see every Saturday at my market) are cleaning up a nice looking turkey.

I watched as the birds were processed. Great care is taken to clean and prepare the turkey for the customer, all done by hand to limit any bruising or tearing.

Here's Betsy doing the final inspection - getting all the pin feathers and feather pins out.

After watching for awhile (I wondered later if I should have jumped in to help, but...) I walked down the path to visit with Nancy in the kitchen. Smith Meadows has a brisk pasta and sauce market business. I have my favorites (Sweet Potato Ravioli, Apple Cheddar Ravioli, Oat & Winter Wheat Fettucine.)

In this sweet little storefront, Nancy and her two worker-bees were cranking out noodles and pesto, supervised by her Nancy's son, Linus.

There were great heaps of green garlic scapes, nuts, cheese and oil ready for the food processor. And rectangular slabs of freshly made pasta dough ready for the pasta machine. I will admit to pasta-machine-envy.

When we were parting company, I asked Betsy a question that's been on my mind since disassembling the ducks. Do her customers want cut-up chicken? Yes, of course they do. But she encourages them to watch the videos to see how it's done. Here's one I like linked here.

I always buy whole chickens and will admit that I most often roast them whole, but recently, after the duck education, I decided to break down two chickens for various dishes - eight leg quarters for my new favorite go-to dish from food52, Rosy Chicken, breasts for some charcuterie (post to come) and carcasses, necks, wing tips and scraps for stock.

Above all, I think I most appreciate the nose-to-beak benefits of homemade stock.

I keep chicken, duck and other stock in 6 cup measures, in ziplock bags (freeze flat on a sheet pan for best storing!) in the freezer. Six cups is the perfect quantity for one batch of soup.

Chicken (or duck or turkey) Stock, makes about 8 cups

Two chicken carcasses, necks, wing tips and scraps (about two pounds)

3 quarts cold water

2 onions, quartered (onion skin can go in the pot, too, as it helps color the stock)

4 carrots, cut in thirds

2 celery stalks, or the celery leaves from the stalk

1 T peppercorns

6-8 fresh thyme stalks

2 rosemary stalks

1 bay leaf

Cook for at least four hours, covered. Sometimes I cook mine for six hours.

Strain and cook another hour.

Cool quickly in a bowl held over an ice bath to retain the best flavor.

Refrigerate overnight. Skim the fat. Freeze.

Make a batch today. You'll love how the house smells and you will thank me at Thanksgiving.

PS I don't salt my stock so I can control the salt in soups and sauces made from the stock.