Happy Thanksgiving, or please pass the Bichon Frisé
Today is (was) Thanksgiving. Like many other families, we were invited to spend it with friends at a pot-luck style celebration of good eating, good drinking and good conversation. We walked in late. It takes one hour on a good day to get out the door with two kids, add one hour for food preparation, and you get the picture. So, everyone was already eating, sitting at a table laden with dozens of dishes. There was the turkey, and then casseroles, gratins, cookies, pies (I counted three pumpkin pies), a pecan pie, a roulade and lots of other mouth watering goodies. I scanned all the dishes hopefully. There had to be something I (and Annika) could eat. Unfortunately most of the dishes were off limits. Dairy is pretty much the ubiquitous ingredient in nearly every Thanksgiving dish, whether it’s the butter basting for the bird, cream in the green bean casserole, butter and milk in the cookies, pies and cakes, cheese in the macaroni and cheese and topping anything gratin style and whipped cream on the pumpkin pie. Eggs are probably the second most frequent allergen and nuts are right up there, hiding in chocolate chip cookies and very visible in pecan pies. I was just thankful that we were not allergic to wheat or gluten or other grains, vegetables of fruits, or that would have taken everything off the menu. Annika and I were able to eat a few things, but mostly we stuck to what we brought, Marc’s famous Chinese chicken salad (today he substituted turkey for a Thanksgiving interpretation), with fried wontons and rice noodles, a recipe passed down in his family and my “special” stuffing (the secret ingredient is liver) that I had modified this year to eliminate allergens, so it was less than it’s normal spectacular. The hosts made a special soup for Annika, they actually named it Annika soup. It was free of all her allergens, and we were so very thankful that they made it for her (us – I had it too).
And then there were the dogs. In particular one dog that was very friendly and wanted to lick everyone. The owner saw Annika looking at it and invited her to pet him. I immediately stepped in to spoil the fun and told the woman that Annika was allergic to dogs. She looked at me and cheerfully said “he’s a Bichon Frisé, he’s hypoallergenic, I got him because my sister is allergic too”. I had heard of hypoallergenic (supposedly) breeds, specifically the Bichon Frisé(although I’ve never had contact with one before) so I let Annika pet the dog and watched for a reaction, like hives or wheezing, both reactions to dogs we’ve observed in the past. That didn’t happen. So of course I had to follow up on this when I got home.
Here’s what I learned. According to Wikipedia, “hypoallergenic dog breeds or crossbreeds are alleged to be safer for allergic persons than other breeds”, but that’s when things get complicated. It seems experts don’t agree on the existence of “hypoallergenic” dogs and really most think it’s either chance, specific to each individual, or wishful thinking at best. A dog allergy is an allergy to a protein secreted by the dog’s sebaceous glands that can be found in the dander (shedding skin) and saliva. The theory behind hypoallergenic dog breeds is that they produce far less of that protein and spread it around less because they don’t shed (or shed little). But a highly allergic individual should react anyways. However, as in all things concerning the immune system, it seems the evidence pointing either way remains nebulous. One expert noted that it appears that specific individuals may become immune to a specific dog (not a specific breed) for unknown reasons. If that’s the case, I thought, maybe there is some hope for our kitties? I have this (clinging to hope) theory that Annika is immune to our cats. But that’s for another day. Today, we are celebrating petting a Bichon Frisé and escaping unscathed. There is hope then we may yet have pets in our life. And that’s something – along with good friends, good conversation and (some) great food – that I am thankful for today.
