DOG FACE PIE

We made Dog Face Pie today.

While waiting for my illusive muse to show up, I’m making a concerted effort to stay gentle with myself and my writing goals.

So, I’ve decided to include a quick story about this wonderful pie and the dog who loved it.

When Shadow, our flat coated retriever, was alive,  he was a brave boy.580799592_2063855751_562072303_1288220133127[1] His coat was so thick he had hot flashes. Often, we’d see him laying in a snow bank, happy as a menopausal woman with her face in front of an open freezer.  He had many aliments including a stroke from which he recovered 90% and diabetes that ultimately contributed to his death. My husband gave our furry pal insulin shots twice a day for over a year. One night Rick said, grinning as he rubbed Shadow’s neck after an injection, “Well my Navy ABC school finally came in handy. You know –  atomic, biological and chemical warfare? We had to learn to give ourselves shots.” He was putting this harrowing knowledge to good use.

Shadow, always  the most well-mannered of dogs, never stole food from the table, begged, or disrupted our meals. His boring dog food was occasionally augmented with gravy or meat scraps. No sugar – ever. However, one day I heard the sound from the kitchen that only means one thing. Animal eating  something he shouldn’t. I raced in, astounded to find Shadow with his front paws on the counter and his face buried in a cooled apple pie. I couldn’t believe it, but it was such a funny sight I couldn’t be angry. (Besides, we had another pie.) From then on, the delicious dessert was christened Dog Face Pie. Any pie that makes a good dog break his leash (so to speak) needs a special name.

So: Prepare crust, fill with sliced apples, press a mixture of brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon over all. Cook for 1 hour. Remove and drizzle caramel sauce and top with pecans. Good enough for anyone, canine or human.

Yummy. This one’s for you my buddy.

What’s your favorite animal companion memory?

stars-th

Advertisements

8 thoughts on “DOG FACE PIE”

  1. That is so funny!
    Our kitty is so well-behaved that I really haven’t any funny stories right now. But she does have a very cute sneeze. Yes, she sneezes …
    The pie sounds delicious!

  2. Do You remember Sigfreid? He was a big reddish German shepard-type dog and was as gentle and sweet as anyone could want–with one exception. Back in those days (you were still a toddler amd Liz was an infant), door to door salesmen would often come to the door, selling various things. The Fuller Brush Man was a well known caller to the homes of housewives and other stay-at-homers. You were young and Liz only an infant when one day a salesman came to the door. I have no idea what he was selling and when I said I was not interested in his product, he started to open the screen door to show me the product more directly. Siggie, who was at my side, started a low, threatening growl and the hair on his back stood up in spikes. I dropped my hand to his neck and said, oh so sweetly, “I’m sorry. He is hard to control sometimes.” The salesman left without a further word. Siggie was a sweet dog and I was comfortable leaving the baby on the porch in her carriage with Siggie lying close by your side.

  3. When Bridie, our lovely German Shepherd became a mum for the first time her previously exemplary habits changed and she started to scavenge any food she could get, including whatever she could steal from the kitchen counters if we carelssly left food on there. To put her off, a friend suggested making an extra hot mustard sandwich and leaving it in an accessible place on the edge of the counter when we went to bed. It had worked for his dog, he said. So this we did. In the morning the sandwich had – predictably – gone and Bridie’s water bowl was empty. So we followed the same routine on the second night and – again, the sandwich vanished and the water bowl was emptied. Third night the same. Ok, we said, this just isn’t working, so we decided not to keep repeating the pointelss exercise. On the fourth night as we went to bed, Bridie sat by the countertop with a look on her face that clearly said: Where’s my sandwich? #fail

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s