Traditional Disaster

Last year, my border collie (the Donk) ate all of my turkey before it was even cooked. I came home to find her and the bird lying on the floor in a pool of turkey juice.
I ran to the post office this morning after finishing up a pretty large order of ornaments (something to be thankful for) and when I walked in the door...two loaves of bread opened and already half eaten. She was hiding under the kitchen table.
I don' get it. The bread stays out all the time, and she's never touched it. Today she found some wild hankering for loaf bread and hamburger buns, so she made it her business to tear into the plastic. Keep in mind that she had to put her paws up on the counter, lean up to the toaster and grab the bags with her teeth (this is all how I imagined it went down).
The good news, she ignored the fresh pound cake that was cooling on the counter beside the bread. I guess she didn't want pound cake, but she got a hefty spank anyway.

I baked my first pound cake today for my small and lonesome Thanksgiving fest tomorrow. The old man, Donk and myself will celebrate in the camper with the wind howling all around us. We have all of the appropriate trimmings, and now a fresh citrus pound cake for dessert!

P.S. Friends, stop by and visit my newest follower on her blog "Heartsong"!