The Tale of the Bad Dog and the even Badder Doggie Daddy

This tale takes place on Friday. Friday started out to be a really nice day. My nephew the Little Pumpkin came over to spend the day with his favorite aunt because he goes to a high-falutin' private school that has lots of holidays. Way more holidays than his parents get from their jobs. So he occasionally gets to spend the day with me doing fun things while his parents are at work wishing they were not there.

Mr. Big Ed and I were to have dinner with our around-the-corner neighbors who we like very much, so this was going to stretch from being a really nice day into a nice evening as well. I did what I always do and ask "What can I bring?" and was asked to bring a dessert. So I searched than pantry and found that lo and behold I had all the ingredients to make my all-time favorite cake, Nana's Pineapple Upside Down Cake. This is definitely not that nasty plain white cake with a pineapple ring and cherry in the middle on top of it. I don't care for that cake. Maybe it is because I was raised eating Nana's Pineapple Upside Down Cake? Whatever.

This is the best cake in the world. And every year when my mom would ask, what cake do you want for your birthday cake, this is the cake I chose. And this is what I chose to make for our friends. It turned out perfect. Baked just the right amount of time and cooled just the right amount to turn out of the pan onto the cut glass cake pedestal that I have.

You know where I am going with this, don't you? Mr. Big Ed who is known far and wide for not being able to completely shut a door, a cabinet, a drawer, anything! Well, Mr. Big Ed managed to leave the sliding glass door partially open and Ernest T. Bass comes trotting in and smells freshly baked cake and decides it must be for him. Even though it is clearly on the counter. And clearly away from the edge. And even more clearly on the pedestal cake plate for presentation to the neighbors.

I walked in to find he has eaten halfway around the edge of the cake. I screamed at him and then I screamed at his father. Then after I calmed down I had to call our friends and tell them that "the dog had eaten our dessert". They laughed and said Come on over and don't worry about it. But I worried about it. And I called Ernest T. names and I called his father even MORE names. Very descriptive names.

Wouldn't you have done the same after seeing this?