The band, the dog, and the cake

As many of you know, I play in a little country/oldies/random anything band. I guess I have dogs on the mind because I recalled this story that happened a few years back. The guys and me had been asked to play for a wedding reception at a house quite a few miles off the main road.
The setting was beautiful. The bride's parents had rented a large tent complete with Christmas lights and a canoe held the iced beverages. A dance floor was in place and a catered BBQ meal was almost ready. Besides the caterers, the band was the first on the scene.
The Hwy 304 band usually takes an hour or so to set up, assuming no one forgot anything, which I believe something was forgotten and one of the guys had to rush 15 miles back home to get the extension cord, amp, or whatever it was we had to have. One of the relatives rushed out of the house, to make it back to the church for the wedding pictures. "Be right back," she yelled as she spun out down the dirt road.
Unbeknown st to me, the lady had tried to save some time by putting the wedding cake on a table on the front porch. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. What she did not know, and what I didn't know was, the old hound dog that was supposed to be tied had gotten hungry. I'm sure it wasn't the cake that made him gnaw the rope in two. The fragrant aroma of smoked brisket made everybody's stomach growl with anticipation, mine included.
I was adjusting a cymbal stand or something when something caught my eye. Something that shouldn't be moving on the porch was moving. Before I could comprehend the horror, the tragedy, the gravity of the situation, I heard a voice. It was a familiar voice, it was MY voice. GITONOUTTAHEA!!! I ran as fast as I could up the steps, but it was too late. Not only was his head nose deep in wedding cake, but there were two craters where a pair of paws had been.
I can't remember if we drew straws, but I was chosen as the one to inform the Mother of the Bride that her beautiful cake was ruint.
She did not cry. Or scream. Or faint. She decided that the cake, made by the famous Green Pastures Restaurant in Austin, Texas, would be fine. "We'll just turn it around, and no one will know." And she did. I will always hold great respect for that lady. Talk about the cowgirl spirit!
We went on to play to a great reception, even letting a guy and his wife sing a strange version of "Marie Levoe."
As Levon Helm once said, the drummer has the best seat in the house.