Birthday carnage

Our late dog Pete was not known for his kind disposition. In fact, he never met a person he wouldn’t contemplate biting. Two stints in obedience school never affected him, though if Tom and I are ever commanded to walk on a leash, sit, stay, heel, leave it, or lie down, we’ll get gold stars. We are also clicker trained, thanks to Margot.

Still, there were people Pete tolerated better than others–and there were two who sent him into a rage. The first of these was my nephew Josh. No one understood why my nephew Daniel could walk up and Pete would glance over and say, “Yeah, whatever,” then charge Josh with the full fury of his ten pounds.

To commemorate this family conflict, my sister (Josh’s mother) once gave us a little plastic dachshund wearing a red cape, carrying a pitchfork, and sporting devil horns. Thursday night, I made Pete’s Mini Me the center of a birthday cake for the other person who brought out Pete’s not-so-inner demon: Tim.

Here’s what the cake looked like:

I made one of Tim’s favorite meals, pot roast, and we were joined by Lynne, Minute, and Paco for dinner, cake, and gift opening.

Tim blows!

Later, Lynne demonstrated Pete’s Take-No-Prisoners approach to life.

Even though the cake was a bit decimated, Rhonda and Lindsey were able to join us at the end of the evening to enjoy a slice and add to Tim’s birthday celebration.

Thank you, everybody, for helping make Tim’s birthday festive! And Pete, wherever you are, I’m sorry no one bit him on the ankle for you. Maybe next year.