The Naughtiest Dog in the Land

This is Boo. Arthur Boo Radley, to be precise. He is NOT a hero. In fact, this 11 year old Chocolate Labrador is closer to an angel of death.  Don't get me wrong.  I love this dog and have loved him since his puppyhood.  He has been sweet and kind and is WONDERFUL with our kids.  He's never bitten anyone and never would.  It's just that he has a naughty streak 10 miles long.  I could write a book on his horrid behavior (actually, our Newfoundland isn't great in that area either.  Do I see a pattern?), but then I'd be copying "Marly and Me" and it just wouldn't do.  

His exploits of two days ago were the worst in the history of Boo (please believe me when I tell you that this is saying something).  As I was leaving the house to go to physical therapy (in a rush, tying the kids shoes, getting them off to a sitter...), I heard the horrid clicking of a gas stove trying to light.  I wondered what in the world could be going on?  Was there a ghost in the house?  A killer?

As soon as my mind righted itself, I stood bolt upright and yelled, "whose been playing with the stove!?"  Silence.  I ran into the kitchen to find the remains of Will's birthday cake in flames.  Boo is hovering very near.  I immediately turned off the burner and quickly surveyed the damage.  Not too bad so far but those flames were moving like they had a plane to catch!  The profanity that escaped my lips is too offensive to write.  It was enough that Will screamed, "what's happened?"  Whereupon I screamed, "there's a fire!!!!"  Note to self: do not yell "there's a fire" ever again.  

Here the action begins and takes place within about 2 minutes.  Will is screaming, "Oh, this is bad!  Call the fire department!!!!"  Lizzy is crying.  I'm thinking, "what do I do with this flaming cake?"  I yelled the kids out of the kitchen and decided picking up the cake was the best option as the fire extinguisher MIGHT not work and the flames were growing SO fast.  I ran across the kitchen and out the back door where I slammed the cake down on the back porch (made of Trex and supposedly not flammable.  It worked in my favor).  I sprinted back inside, grabbed cups of water and started pouring them all over the stove.  When I was satisfied that nothing was going to re light itself and that no bits of cardboard from the box had hovered over to the rugs/drapes/children I took a look outside.  

Again, profanity.  The box was now 3 feet high in flames and altogether too close to my house.  The sprinting restarted and soon enough the trusty cups of water have doused those flames as well.  

Look at those crazy eyes!  He wouldn't even be good for a picture.  Naughty, naughty dog ;). 

Here's the stupid cake box.  If I'd followed the instructions to "ke efrigerated" none of this would have happened.  The horrid thing is, I know this is the universe trying to tell me to stop eating cake.  I had some this very morning for breakfast.  I complain about my butt and then eat birthday cake for breakfast?  Not anymore.  Who knows what will happen next time I try.

The burner left a lovely brand on the bottom of the box.  I DO NOT know how that rug didn't catch fire!  

Tell all of your domesticated animals that they don't need to resort to such tomfoolery if they want a piece of cake.  Also, some childproofing may have helped in this circumstance.  Never needed it for the kids ;).  

Now look at that face.  Is that the face of a killer?  I thought not.  He tries (about once a week) to be good but he just has this rotten soul.  It's not his fault.  I know we raised him to be a horrid cake theif.  I'm only glad we didn't pay the ultimate price for our negligence.  Well come on, it's not like he's a Menendez!  

Here's the worst part.  As I was running back and forth putting out the flames on the box, Boo got exactly what he wanted.  That's his face print in the cake!