Which never would have happened if Mr. Baxter hadn’t suggested Mrs. Baxter bring home two pounds of carne asada for another one of their romantic taco nights. I don’t expect generation-squeaky-toy to understand a word I’m saying, but what happened next remains an enduring example of ambition, teamwork and courage in the face of adversity. That’s how we did things back then. Don’t get me started. Let me start by conceding that the exact quantity of marinated meat Mrs. Baxter placed into her fort-knoxian refrigerator that afternoon also remains a mystery, even today. But something about the size of the grocery bag and the way Mrs. Baxter handled it when she got back from the store led Sparky (who studied these matters closely) to determine it was probably much closer to 4, if not 5 pounds in weight and thereby definitely worth the considerable risk Operation: Carpe das Carne posed to both of us. Sparky’s trilingual name for the mission was also his battle cry just prior to things going south which—news flash puppies—is a direction things go with tremendous regularity. Don’t get me started. Did we succeed? No. Were we victims of some unfair cosmic conspiracy? No. Did we ask our vets for Valium? No again. We were two dogs momentarily bested by a cooling device created by a species with thumbs—nothing more, nothing less and certainly nothing to cry about. Extra! Extra! You can’t win them all! And if you’re thinking this was the last time Sparky and I attempted to liberate cuisine, Mexican or otherwise, from Mrs. Baxter’s kitchen…then you’re missing the point entirely. In the end, my pal’s tail was only a little worse for wear and we learned a series of valuable lessons…mostly regarding the importance of timing and the dangers of speculation. But the following morning Sparky also explained that there’s a fine line between confidence and overconfidence and that it was entirely possible that, maybe, he’d crossed it. Which reminds me of the time he enlisted my help in the forced eviction of a particularly brazen squirrel who’d taken unsanctioned residence in Mrs. Baxter’s favorite oak tree…