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Love dogs - truly love them.

The Aunt has a tiny fury ankle-biter that insists on pecking at my leg every time I come over. He lunges at me, all vicious like, and growls and barks at my shoes. A couple of times his teeny tiny sharp teeth have made contact with my skin. So to be totally honest, that dog I don't love so much. And to be even more honest, I've been known to sneak a glare and a snarl at the dog now and again to show him who's boss. Though the last time I did that he peed on my foot.

So when we got all the food set up the other night - a gorgeous (finally!) spring evening party - I was a little nervous when I saw The Client's dogs running around the food table. It was a casual party out at The Client's beach cabin, but the dogs were big - horse like - and they could easily reach what we had on display.

And, apparently, what we had in the van.

Without thinking I took a load and kicked the back door of the van closed. Or so I thought. Because when I came back one of the dogs had nudged his nose in the door and went face down in a platter of mini crab melts. I was, as you can imagine, breathless with frustration and anger. And while I would never harm a dog, I did mutter under my breath that I hoped he would get a case of carpet-scooting diarrhea that lasted for days.

When I got to the outdoor kitchen with the mangled platter The Client asked what happened. When I told her she gave me a "*Tsk Tsk* - you really should be more careful about making sure your doors are closed. What do you expect that poor animal to do with all this temptation?" No apology. No offer to tie up the pets. Just a reprimand for my obvious stupidity.

I chuckled a little, bit my lip and smiled.

And then I walked back to the van saying a prayer she gets the diarrhea, too.

Posted by Foodwhore at May 9, 2008 09:24 AM