The Dog Ate My Cake

I'm think I'll change this poster to read, "I WANT THIS DOG TO GO HOME!"

Today is a day for the books. It is also a day for the bottle...and I'm not the drinking type.

Our house has been overrun by dogs. One dog is more than we can handle, but we turned into a two dog, one cat house several years ago. This past weekend, my tenderhearted son took it upon himself to help a lost dog. By help, I mean feeding it. Everyone knows what happens when you feed a dog... you then OWN the dog! We can't find anyone to claim this very sweet but large, eating (and pooping) machine. My kids have already named the dog (rule #2 Never, NEVER name stray animals. It's that much harder to get them to leave.)

I had a crazy day. And that was before I had an extra dog underfoot. The day included an evening activity where I was assigned to bring the dessert. Things were on track. Cake was cooked and frosted. I had just enough time to run necessary errands and make it back for the event. Imagine my delight when I walked into the house to find my cake with a huge chunk missing from it. Now, my family might be ok eating a dog-slobbered cake, but I'm pretty sure that the group of women I was getting together with wouldn't appreciate it.

Yes, I recovered... thanks to Parson's Bakery. Tomorrow is stacking up to be another crazy day. I have someone coming over to the house for an 8:00 am meeting. While I was gone tonight, someone left a bag of red Valentine candy out where the dogs could reach it and I now have a red pile of dog barf front and center in the dining room.