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The vets willsee younow
LETTHE FUR FLY!ANSWERSTOYOUR HAIRIEST PET QUESTIONS
Q.
Life in the slow lane We have a new turtle. How should we set up the tank?
P.S., viaFacebook
A. Most pet turtles need at leasta 50-gallon tank—about the size of two three-drawer filing cabinets. “They should be able to swim four body lengths before having to turn around,” says veterinarian Aundria del Pino, who specializes in exotic pets. Use over-the-tank UV lighting to keep the water warm—72 to 82 degrees—and mimic a reptile’s sunny habitat. Include a basking area (a rock or piece of nontoxic wood with an overhead 250-watt infrared bulb). You can buy pieces individually or as a set; try All Living Things Aquatic Turtle Equipment Kit ($70; petsmart.com). For food (feed it two to four times a week), vets suggest variety: dark greens, veggies, mealworms, and dry food, like Tetra’s ReptoMin floating food sticks ($7.50; amazon.com).
FUN FIND! MOD CARRIER
This well-ventilated spaceage backpack keeps a cat or small dog (up to 16 pounds) comfy and safe. You can swap out the acrylic window for a meshfront panel (included). TOBUY: U-Pet Bubble Pet Carrier, $106; amazon.com.
Q.
Food for thought
When should I switch my 7-year-old chocolate Lab to senior food?
J.B., viaFacebook
A. Right now. Generally, this switch should take place halfway through a pup’s life span (between 5 and 10 years old, depending on the breed). Why? “Older dogs don’t metabolize at the same rate as younger ones, so they need food higher in fiber and lower in calories and fat,” says veterinarian Gayle O’Konski. “It’s easier for them to digest and less likely to cause weight gain.” Choose a formula with fewer than 400 calories per cup, plus added omega-3s (which help keep a dog’s mind sharp) and glucosamine and chondroitin (they strengthen joints). O’Konski’s pick: Iams Proactive Health Senior Plus ($15 for 12½ pounds; amazon.com). Phase in the new food over the course of two weeks, mixing it with the familiar food and gradually changing the ratio. Even if your dog is not yet at midlife, consult your vet if you see significant weight gain—it may be a sign to switch sooner.
Written by
Sarah Grossbart
THE PET EXPERTS
AUNDRIA DEL PINO, DVM,
Marathon Veterinary Hospital, Marathon, Florida
MARY GARDNER, DVM,
Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice, Los Angeles
ANN HOHENHAUS, DVM,
Animal Medical Center, New York City
GAYLE O’KONSKI, DVM,
Morris Animal Hospital, Granger, Indiana
Q.
Cat fight
My husband and I disagree on whether our new kitten should be indoor-only or allowed outside. How do we decide?
C.T., viaFacebook
A. Some pet owners feel strongly about giving a cat room to run. But most vets advise against letting cats out, because of the inherent risks: predators like coyotes and foxes, dangers such as cars, and the chance of picking up fleas or parasites (or even leukemia or AIDS) from a stray, says veterinarian Ann Hohenhaus. Your best bet is letting your indoor cat spend time in a screened-in porch (if you have one) or an enclosed backyard dwelling, like the Deck and Patio ($140; kittywalksystems.com). If you’re set on letting your kitty roam, “make sure it’s up-to-date on vaccines and is taking flea, tick, and heartworm medication,” says veterinarian Mary Gardner. “For peace of mind, it’s worth the $40 fee to have it fitted with a microchip.”
Good Read
The kitchen next door
Itwas just a few steps away, but in many aspects the neighbors’ house wasa worldapart. Daphne Merkin remembers.
I GREW UP in a large and fractiousfamily,where noone quitegot alongwith anyone else(atleast,notforverylong) butwhere the motto all the samewas “Family above all.” Given that my familywas Orthodox Jewish,we didn’t so much talk about the ethos of family as the sovereignty of mishpocha, whichis Yiddish (or Hebrew, depending upon how one pronounces it) for “an extended tribe of bloodrelatives.”
Our tribewas more impregnable than most, in part because both my parents had escaped Hitler’s Germany with their families in the 1930s andwere especially leery of outsiders.They had survived by pulling inward,
Photograph by
Alessandra Sanguinetti
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goodread sticking together in the face of avirulent enemy, and tended to regard people beyond their immediate circle as suspect until proven otherwise.Another factor that fueled their guarded approach to theworld was that our immediate family, by sheervirtue of its size, constituted a group sufficient unto itself. Therewere six of us kids, three girls and three boys, plus two adults:Whywouldwe need to cultivate friendsto swell ourranks?
Even though Iwas a frightened and dutiful child, I early on realized that theway out for mewas through the door of friendship—looking to outsiders for nurturance and intimacy.This tooksome resolveon my part, since my mother’s message about seeking out friendswas inevitably a derogatory one (“You and your friends,” she’d say to me, as if shewere remarking upon a bad habit, “you don’t need so many friends”) and neither of my older sisters seemed inclined to develop the kind of close extrafamilial relationships Iwentlooking for.
I began by chatting up the Italian neighborswho lived next door to us during the summer months at our house inAtlantic Beach on Long Island. My family’s insular policy of mishpocha and more mishpocha was particularly pronounced during summer,when my mother regularly filled up the housewith a gaggle of relatives from Israelwho mostly talked in a language I couldn’t follow. I alreadyfeltcutofffromschoolchumsandrestless inthecompanyofmysiblings.
So itwas that one hot afternoon I began talking toDoloresBuzzelli, who wasweedingthe well-kept flower garden that bloomed in the space between ourhouses.Iwasa10-year-oldlookingtoexpand my horizons, and Doloreswas a mother and housewifewho responded positively to my mix of outgoingness and loneliness—or perhaps to the fact that Iwas the only occupant of the big house next door to step out and make contact. Dolores’s husband, Bob,was an airline pilot,which detail I found fascinating in contrast to my father’s amorphous businessman affairs, and therewere two good-looking children, a boy and a girl.Within days Iwas over at the Buzzellis’ more often than not, marveling at the way thingswere done in their neat, contained house.
Iwas especially takenwith the pride of place given to the dinners Doloreswhipped up every
Iwas a 10-year-old looking to expand my horizons, and Doloreswas a mother and housewife whoresponded positively to my mix of outgoingness and loneliness.
night in her pretty blue-tiled kitchen, meals that usually included pasta made authentically al dente. Everything revolved around the act of cooking,with Dolores standing at the stove, striking up conversationwith Bob and herchildren asthey driftedin and out of the room. I especially lovedwatching Dolores make meatballs and spaghetti or her zestfullyseasoned Bolognese sauce, flavoredwith herbs she grew in little pots on herwindowsill. I think it was particularly fascinating to me because my own mother never cooked—all our dinnerswere made by Iva, our cook—and as a result therewas no sense of occasion around the preparation of meals.They weredone undertheradar, althoughIlikedtoperch near Iva andwatch as often as Icould. I didn’t know any other familieswho had a cook, and although it might have looked like a luxury, Iyearned for a motherwho made meals instead of simplywriting up menus for someone else to execute. It seemed like the normal, nurturing, motherly thing to do and made me feel like therewasyet something else wrongwith my family that set us apart from others.
I spent hours observing Dolores,watching her as closely as if Iwere preparing to become an Italian chef myself (Ilovedthesmellofroastinggarlic but rarely got to savor it at our house, because my father didn’t like it). Iwould stay around to help her setthe tablewith a brightlychecked clothand ceramic disheswhile chattingaboutpeople in theneighborhood. But there my participation ended.You see, I couldn’t actually partake of the Buzzellis’ dinners, because my family kept kosher and, tempted as I was, I didn’t dare go against the many injunctions thatI hadbeenraisedwith.
And then one day, inspiration struck.What if I could get Dolores to cook herwondrous meatballs and spaghetti for my family, providing herwith pots and pans from our kitchen (kosher law dictates separate cookware for meat and dairy) aswell as all the ingredients? First, I asked Doloreswhether shewould bewilling to