I want you all to meet someone.
This is Georgia, or George, for short. Georgia is our little old Japanese Chin
that we got suckered into that we adopted from the rescue.
It went down a little like this. I wanted a dog. Hubby did not. I really wanted a dog. Being that I’m an only child, I refused to take no for an answer and I brought home Mesha.
This is Mesha. I wanted her badly, but she didn’t really want me, she wanted Hubby. And her big brown eyes won him over instantly. So, Hubby got a dog, and I still wanted one.
Not too long after we adopted Mesha, a lady that works with the rescue called me and told me about Georgia. She was shipped here from England as puppy, worked as a show dog for a while, then was “petted” out to the woman from the rescue. According to the woman from the rescue, Georgia was getting older now and needed a family that was home more than she was. I instantly agreed. She sounded cool. After all, she had history, had came here from England, was a show dog. A real lapdog. My lapdog.
If you’ve ever read my blog before you won’t be surprised to find out. I. Was. Wrong.
Georgia waltzed into this house, walked over to Lilly and looked at her as if to say “Hey toots. How about you and me hang out for a while?” Now, Lilly had never really had much in the way of a friend before Georgia moved in. Having Asperger’s Syndrome really makes it hard to make and keep friends. But Georgia didn’t care about Asperger’s Syndrome. She just knew that Lilly held her, and petted her, and was little just like she is (Georgia weighs about 4 1/2 pounds and Lilly weighs about 60) – before you knew it they were like Forrest and Jenny. Peas and carrots.
Dang it! I still had no dog. *sigh* Oh well. Who am I to tell a dog who they belong to, right?
But, shortly after Georgia waltzed into our house I realized that I might have made a mistake.
First off, Georgia was ancient – as far as Japanese Chins go, that is. Like old humans, old dogs don’t always make it where they’re headed when they have to go to the bathroom. And, as Lilly likes to say “She’s deaf, and she can’t hear either.” Apparently, she was born that way – and she really can not hear anything. You can literally run over her tail with the vacuum cleaner and she won’t notice until her tail is stuck inside the thing. Oh, and, she has a wry bite, which means – that cute little tongue always hangs out of her mouth. Yeah, and it isn’t so cute when it’s all dried out and got fuzz balls stuck to it.
But, Lilly loved her and she loved Lilly. So we kept her. What else could I do, really?
One of the things that I think is most hilarious about little deaf Georgia is that she loves, and I mean loves, cheese crackers. It doesn’t matter where you are in the house, if you open a box of Cheese-Its that little deaf dog comes running. I don’t know if Mesha gives her the heads up in Doggy sign-language or what, but that dog just knows when you open the box. And, maybe because she’s deaf, she’ll often come running when you open other things too; like cereal, graham crackers, potato chips and pretzels.
We’ve had Georgia for four years now, and I’m happy to say she’s really had a wonderful, loving family here. Sometimes, she drives me bonkers with all her idiosyncrasies, but she is a sweet and loving dog. Her days here are certainly numbered, as she’s taken to having seizures every so often and sleeps more and more each day. It will be hard on everyone when she passes, but our lives have been richly blessed by this little pint sized dog.
Yesterday, when I opened the bag of pretzels to make today’s snackies, she woke up and came trotting into the kitchen hoping for a cheese cracker. I tossed her a pretzel, gave her a smile and said “George – I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but if they do, I sure hope there’s a big Cheese-It there with your name on it.”
So, obviously, today I am going to tell you how to make my locally famous Ranch Pretzels. No one really calls them that, but that’s what they are. If you ask anyone around these parts about my pretzels they’ll say “Oh! You mean the crack?!” So, yes, we call them “Crack Pretzels” and just like those pesky potato chips – no one can eat just one.
This method works a little like the old party mix recipe. You bake them at a very low temperature and stir every few minutes so that they don’t get stuck together or burn. I like to make batches of these and my spicy pretzels to give away at Christmas time. They are great to throw in bowls for parties with peanuts. Setting a big bowl in the office break room or the teacher’s lounge will make you the number one recipe go-to person. (Remember to send them to my site, please!!)
Ranch Pretzels (or Crack Pretzels)
1 Packet of ranch dressing mix, or use this recipe if you are sensitive to MSG
20 ounces of mini-twist pretzels
3/4 Cup of vegetable/canola oil
1 tablespoon of dill weed
1/2 teaspoon of garlic salt
1/2 teaspoon of onion powder
1/4 teaspoon of ground cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt
Preheat oven to 250.
Gently pour pretzels into a large bowl and add remaining ingredients. Stir very gently to mix well, being careful not to break pretzels into little pieces.
Pour pretzels onto the sheet pan and spread into an even layer.
Place pretzels into the oven and stir every five to six minutes, baking for a total of 25 minutes.
Remove from oven and cool. Store in an air tight container (like they’ll last that long! HA!)
- None Found