By Joshua Elie
Years back, a brilliant man in Sippy Flats, south of Baldwin, decided to get a purebred husky pup, male. Another brilliant man in Sippy Flats decided to do the same thing from a different stock: husky, female. In all their brilliance, they lost the papers ⸺ though they figured they would let the dogs play together and see what happened. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise, six more husky pups. Now, these dogs would have been worth a mint if those men wouldn’t have been so brilliant about losing the paperwork.
At the time, I was in my late 30s and if you haven’t had kids by then, you really get this do-or-die feeling on that issue. In true redneck fashion, and I’m proud to claim it, if you are going to have a baby, that baby needs a dog here in the north woods. There is nothing in our woods that would attack a grown person, but a baby … We have coyotes and eagles, and I wouldn’t put it past a hungry coyote to snatch up a baby, so they need a dog for protection.
Let me hit the rewind button for a moment. Way back when, my parents had a house gig (recurring performance of songs) at the Willis Show Bar in Detroit, a fancy place for people to do business. Strippers, first floor. Hookers, second floor. And even though there is no such thing as the Mafia, if there were, this seems like a place they would’ve wanted to hang out, way back in the day. Chicken Charley, (like calling a giant man “Tiny”), was the bar’s bouncer and my first babysitter.
I was not even a year old, so I must go with what people tell me, but I guess I was quite the escape artist. The traffic on Cass and Third was backed up one day because in the street was a toddler, crawling on hands and knees. Yes, me. That was my parents’ last straw; they were moving north. Three dogs, four Siamese cats and me. This was not the end of my adventures, however.
When I was about two, I wandered off into the woods here in the north and, of course, my parents freaked out. My father went to the logical place, the Oak Grove Tavern, and rounded up a posse to go looking for me. Everyone spread out for miles trying to find me. They found me leaning against a pine tree and taking a nap. All three dogs were there: Daisy, a poodle/terrier, queen bitch of the three; Joey, a rescue from the woods ⸺ half wolf, half black spaniel; and Jessica, a Labrador, not as intelligent as you might think, though loyal as the day is long. They wouldn’t let anyone or anything near me, other than my parents.
Fast forward to my late 30s again. I didn’t have any fitting takers for “insemination” at the time, so I decided to get the dog first. I asked around about husky/timber wolf pups. I wanted a mix because a wolf will stay on its own property. A husky will run 30 miles before stopping for water. Well, I didn’t find what I was looking for, but remember that litter of Siberian wolves (aka huskies) at the beginning of this tale? Five of those pups sold fast because of the beautiful markings. What was left was this all-white, beautiful, glacier-blue-eyed female puppy. I took her everywhere with me, let everyone love on her because I wanted her to love, not attack. She thought everyone was her new best friend. She was a Siberian, so people were spooked at first and asked if she bit; she would never bite, but she might have licked you to death.
I will end with, I would never drug an animal or put booze in their water. That is not funny; that is abuse. Now, my home eggnog is a holiday tradition. We make a big ol’ bowl of it, and … you know … I do not spare the bourbon. One year, that eggnog bowl was five feet above the floor on Christmas Eve when we went to bed, and Christmas morning it was on the floor … empty! Chione is Greek for white, or snow, and the story behind it is about a truly blameless woman. Well, I can blame her for lapping up all that eggnog.
Chione’s Eggnog Recipe
4 eggs
(1) 14-oz can sweetened condensed milk
1/4 tsp salt
1 quart milk
1 cup bourbon (Evan Williams is my preference)
Separate the egg whites from the yolks. In a big bowl, beat the egg yolks, then beat in the condensed milk, regular milk and salt. Mix in the bourbon. Beat the egg whites in a mixing bowl until they peak (get thick). Fold them in. You can add a little vanilla and/or some nutmeg on top to make it fancy, though I like my bourbon not tainted with extra spices.
More stories and recipes by Joshua Elie HERE.
