The month of January was even blah-ier than usual this year with all the rain. We could really use a cocktail to perk us up, but not just any cocktail. We need something with a nostalgic kick! After all, retro chic is all the rage.
Have you heard of Boston’s ‘Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails’? Those gals are hard at work in their rescue efforts and deserve a chug-a-lug plug.
According to the bodacious Boston boozers, the buzz in the bar room is that many old-time cocktails are at risk of extinction. But the one forefront in my mind is the grand dame of them all…the Pink Lady.
Back in the fifties, it was the drink of choice for the ‘nice girls working in files’. Described as a dainty little thing with a frilly name, the Pink Lady was a respectable choice. But beware of the secret ingredient! A dash of Applejack gives it that unexpected kick.
It’s time we brought the Pink Lady back into fashion. As one blogger writes, “There’s still a lot of life in the old gal!”
You’re probably wondering what near-forgotten cocktails have to do with the Pet of the Month. Everything!
The 11-year-old Chinese Crested (Powderpuff) pictured here is every bit a lady and Pink from nose to tail – not in colour, but definitely in name. Mind you, it is a fact Pink was named after her own belly, which was a lovely shade of honeysuckle rose back in the day.
Sadly, like the cocktail, this dog tail (together with the precious pint-sized powderpuff pup attached) somehow fell out of fashion.
For many years, Pink had been in the pink. Her life was like a never-ending happy hour, all thanks to her beloved owner who was actually the second human to give her a whirl. She’d originally been someone’s surprise gift. Gifts can usually be packed away when they lose their novelty. Puppies, however, insist on daily attention. Only a month later, our pink-bellied pup was re-gifted to Owner #2 who was tickled pink with Pink – at least until a few years ago when that novelty thing came back into play.
Pink’s owner had started a new business which demanded most of her attention. This was a novelty that wasn’t wearing off. Pink and her younger dog-mate Luke were fast becoming victims of neglect. They were often kept in a garden shed or confined to the owner’s bedroom up to 12 hours at a stretch. If not for the owner’s daughter discovering their predicament upon a visit back home, they’d likely be there now craving attention and regular meals.
Like the ladies in Boston, our friends at Happy Tails Rescue are determined to keep their elbows bent for those special little half-pints that deserve to be both savoured and saved. Young or old, sweet or sour, the only requirement is their size. Any little tumbler is eligible for this highly regarded small dog rescue group.
Pink was a little tumbler alright, but she needed some buffing up. A poor diet had left her teeth in deplorable condition posing a serious risk to her vital organs. Dental surgery was a necessity which resulted in multiple extractions.
Regardless of the missing chiclets, no one would ever dare call her a toothless granny. Pink is the well-respected Lady of the Manor. At bedtime, the royal cuddle spot on foster mom’s bed is reserved exclusively for her. All others must assume their subservient positions at the foot of the bed. If they don’t abide, Her Royal Pinkness will gladly remind them about the secret ingredient to every Pink Lady. You know, the one that delivers the unexpected kick.
Rest assured the lady in pink isn’t always busy being bossy. She’ll gladly serve up the silly when the mood strikes her. Getting down on all fours for a good shake & stir in the yard with the other dog-tails keeps her nimble. It also explains her healthy appetite. You never have to call her twice at mealtime. This lady gets way too hungry for dinner at 8!
But when the fur settles, there’s something about that time between dinner and bed when spent with a dog like Pink. Nestled on the couch together, listening to the winter wind howl outdoors, ever-so-gently you put aside whatever you’re reading to smile down at her, adoring the greyness in her face. She senses it, wakes from her pre-bedtime slumber and gazes back up at you. Time stands still.
Now that’s what I call happy hour.
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