White Dog cleared her throat and everyone stopped and looked at her. "Ummm, guys? I think you got the Labor Day thing backward," she said. "It is supposed to be a holiday from labor not a day to work EXTRA hard!" "Knew we had that wrong," Steve replied as he and his kitchen helpers turned to remove the cookie sheet from the oven. The White Ones nodded their approval and he placed the tray on the rack to cool.
"Look at the bright side, Sweetheart," I crooned. "It is too hot to play outside. Every place is crowded with last party of the summer parties. What we get done now means we will have time over the next couple of weeks that we wouldn't otherwise. PLUS you get to sample and boss us around. What better way to celebrate?"
WD thought about the 300 cookies Steve and Michael were making and freezing for the 2 Million Dog party 2 weeks from now and licked her lips. She watched to spool of string dancing and hopping on the floor as I cut tie-ons for the tributes that will go onto the fence to form our Tribute Wall at the Walk. She peeked in the fridge at the fat ruby trout that were stuffed with shrimp and rice just waiting for grilling later.
"Well, what is everyone sitting around for?" White Dog woofed. "Let's get back to our Labor of Love!"