Sunday, May 30, 2010
And For His Next Trick...
This week we were both tired, wiped out. We did pretty well at the store and the cart included everything necessary to be paired with staple pantry items for some great meals (which get stretched into different forms). There was enough money left before checkout to cover a dessert. I was simply too tired to bake. I eyed a cobbler. My husband asked if it were chocolate. :) I put it back and found a chocolate bundt cake.
I refused to look at the label beyond making sure there was no lard. That's not typical of me. I'll whip up a short stack of homemade pancakes before I'll buy things with labels, especially involving ingredients with names only NASA would recognize. I made an exception...I was counting the minutes till we were back home, the groceries were put away, the sun was down, and I was freshly showered and IN THAT BED. Ty-yerd!
It did happen. Everything got parsed to its quickest, easiest action and finally we were all tucked in, sleeping soundly. BLISS! Waking up late together Saturday...more bliss :)
Saturday is a lovely slow day for us...our weekly day of rest. And during a couple points, chocolate cake was enjoyed.
When we get treats, our dog does, too. I just don't believe in eating while he's hungry, so he gets fed first, and if we're occasionally having something between meals, he gets a very small taste, too. Only not of the cake...the chocolate is supposed to be bad for him. So he got half a biscuit. Because he's a tad plump and all those bites of treats add up. So half a biscuit for the One of the Begging Eyes (he licks his chops, too).
And he stared me down every mouth movement we made of eating our bits of cake. STARED. It was all about eye contact. He can smell the chocolate, and he's a gentleman and won't grab for it if it's in my hand or on my plate. But he will totally try to guilt us with hard stares, and then facial expressions of depredation, starvation, gulag hangdog guillotine glances and sighs. And then go slowly curl up in his Siberia of fluffy dog bed (he's so mistreated ;-)) Actually, he's spoiled rotten and such a good natured fellow. But he has to settle for treats other than chocolate.
Well, Jack and I ventured forth this evening to run a couple errands and upon our return Jack entered the house and turned to me and said....Umm, honey...
I love how a born communicator is rendered monosyllabic under great duress.
Uh-oh. Kaleb had an accident. From the look on Jack's face, maybe he even had a Number Two Oops. Maybe he Ooopsed and then tracked through it.
Just come look, he said.
This did not bode well. But Jack did not have that look on his face that read Since when is it the man's job to pick up the poo? In fact, he had more of a look that said This is your call, and I'm trying not to laugh.
Anyway, I walked in and there was no foul odor anywhere. Nothing seemed disturbed. I looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary, except...
where Jack pointed his finger...
An empty plastic cake plate, and next to it its large round plastic domed cover, licked completely clean except for a couple of chocolate icing bits that were under the hard-to-reach rim.
There were no ground-in cake bits anywhere. Nothing else disturbed.
HOW my dog attained superpowers and got the only half-eaten bundt cake from a high surface (that he's never before been able to breach even when we're gone for hours), I don't know. Nothing else from the surface was on the floor or had been disturbed. He must have scarfed the contents once he dislodged it, though...
he had eaten the entire remaining half of the LARGE chocolate bundt cake, icing and all.
The only clues were the empty container, a few smears of icing under an extension cord nearby, and a slightly-sticky but very happy dog face grinning up at me and totally breathing Chocolate Breath.
You know you're really budgeting tightly when the first thing you think, after wondering if your dog is going to live or go into choco-convulsions at any minute, is DARN DARN DARN, I WANTED TO MAKE THAT CAKE LAST THROUGH THE WEEK.
Guess the diet starts early!
Oh yeah, and Jack was a HUGE help in the discovery process of all the above (I'm saying this tongue-in-cheek). I was doing doggie sign language: Holding empty cake plate, showing it to Kaleb, saying "you KNOW better than this! This can hurt you!" (believe me, he knew what I was saying and slunk away into our bathroom)
Jack could not keep a straight face. He replied that I just put the dog in Time Out. See? To which I called out a minute later "Ok, Kaleb, you can come out of hiding now" and around the corner he comes trotting, as if nothing ever happened. "No more chocolate for you, my friend" means nothing to him other than he's out of the doghouse ;-)
Jack laughs and says I TOLD YOU. He is laughing maybe moreso because he can relate personally. He is laughing because he knew it was just as likely HE, JACK, would have done the same thing as Kaleb (except using a fork and not leaving the evidence in the middle of the floor) had I gone and run errands long enough, except that when I would have come home there would have been one slender token sliver of cake left..."for me."
It's now 10 hours and counting and I've been watching Kaleb for any adverse symptoms. So far the only symptom seems to be slight sheepishness at knowing he did something we weren't too happy about, and maybe...maybe...a "slight feeling of fullness"??? He's sleeping it off, and I could swear he's dreaming of doing it again, ha :)
Looks like next time I'm too tired for baking ahead, I'll buy His and Hers jars of Nutella and call it done :)