They are the ugliest edible creation in the world, but once I get one between my teeth, I want more, and more, and more! My sons think they're so ugly, they call them "dog food cookies," or worse. (Yeah, what biological process happens after a dog eats? If you've ever been around boys, you won't even shudder at the thought.)
I baked some dog food cookies yesterday. The recipe is simple. Mix two boxes of spice cake mix and one 28 oz. can of pumpkin. Toss in chocolate chips, nuts, or whatever else you want to try. (I once threw in some trail mix with delicious results.) Bake cookie-shaped lumps at 350 for about 20 minutes. (Adjust time to individual ovens.)
Once my delectable vegetable food group delights were done, I sat down with about six of them, a glass of cold milk, and a good book. While I was eating, my 14-year-old brought our dog, Bibs, in from her dog run. I was so lost in my book and my taste bud party that I didn't pay attention to much else. When I was through, I carried my plate back into the kitchen. Hey, the cooling rack was empty. I was sure I'd left half a dozen cookies on it. "Did you eat any cookies?" I asked Brian.
He called back, "No, they're disgusting. Why would I eat your disgusting cookies?"
Bibs came trotting into the kitchen, her brown eyes looking up at me with adoration. That's when I noticed the cookie sheet on the stove top, minus the fresh batch of cookies that had been cooling there. Only two sat in the far corner, huddled there as though afraid of something big and toothy.
"Bibs!" I cried. "Did you eat my cookies?"
She did not deny it.
I plucked one of the remaining cookies from the cookie sheet and opened the door. Bibs raced to her dog run and looked hopefully at me from between the bars.
"Yeah, you did it," I grumbled, slipping the cookie between the bars before latching the dog run door.
I couldn't really blame her. For all I know, she heard me call them "dog food cookies." At least she got her vegetables, but I'm not going to tell her that I have a bowl full of delicious dog food cookie dough chilling in the refrigerator.
WARPED HUMOR, GENERAL MAYHEM, AND A SIX-FOOT-TALL VIEW OF LIFE FROM AUTHOR SHIRLEY BAHLMANN
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