Octoweenfest.


     (Check out the Halloween Party recipes at the end)

     “Party?  Did you say… Party?” I asked.
     “You’re out-of-order, Sandy.”  Peter the pointer, chairman pro tem of this morning’s meeting of the Canine Chowder & Ham Bone Marching Society, gaveled me down with a throaty growl.  Hey, I couldn’t help myself, I’m a party animal! 
    “Lighten up, Peter,” Lucy said in her cock-sure cocker spaniel way.  “This is a really a big deal.  My human says this is going to be a HUGE party.  Really, HUGE!  She says she’s combining Octoberfest with Halloween.  She’s calling it, “Octoweenfest.”  She paused, basking in the magnificence of her announcement, waiting for all the woofs of delight.  Fat chance of any of we girls giving her the satisfaction.  The boys did, of course.  “Everybody is to come in costume and to bring a dish.”
     “And,” Barbie her twin sister added, “All the costumes are supposed to be original.  I’m coming as Lady Gaga, in a plastic imitation meat dress.” 
     “What are you bringing to eat?” Heintz asked.
     “Lucy and I are serving Ken-L-Ration a la king.”
     “How plebian,” Fifi our resident poodle and snob opined.  “I’ll bring either escargo in a kibble gravy or filet mignon stuffed with Begin Strips.”
     “What are you going to come dressed like?” Sparkle asked while flicking a flea from her red Irish coat.
     “Marie Antoinette.”
     Snookie the lab moved her muzzle close to my ear and whispered, “I here-by volunteer to operate the guillotine.”
     I couldn’t help chuckling.  Everybody turned to look, but luckily, Manny unwittingly came to my rescue.
     “Oh…oh…oh…oh, I’ll bring the tequilla chimichangas, 100 proof specials with jalapenos and tabasco sauce,” Manny said.  The little guy was so excited that, from the tip of his chihuahua tail to the tip of his chihuahua nose, he vibrated like one of those toys I hear are sold in disreputable catalogs.  I don’t know that!  I just heard about them!  On page 76 of the… aaaaaaaaaaaaaa let’s move along.
     “What are you coming as?” Lucy asked.
     “A…a…a…a, a drug runner!”  Manny said.
     “Oh, that’s in really poor taste, Manny.”  Barbie looked disgusted.
     “A…a…a…a, an illegal alien!” 
     “That’s too common, and in poor taste, try again,” Lucy suggested.
     “A…a…a…a, a dancing senorita!”
     “I don’t think you can get the surgery in time,” I said. “Why not get a close hair cut and come as a Mexican hairless?”
     “Okay…okay…okay…okay.”  Manny is very cooperative.  And, maybe not so smart.
      “Well, Boog and I have our costume covered.”  Our resident beagle, Boob, smiled at her son who grinned in response.  “Boog will wear his gray sweater with the mathematical symbol for 3.1412 printed on it and I’ll wear my pumpkin orange tube dress.”
     “I don’t get it,” Sparkle said.
     “Why, we’ll be symbolically dressed as pumpkin pie.”  Boob snuck a pity peek at Sparkle.  The red-head is a little slow.  And they talk about us blondes. 
     “What are you bringing to eat?” Heintz asked.
     “Road-killed rabbit in wine sauce.”
     “Good,”  Heintz looked at me in his “mutty” way and asked, “What are you wearing?”
     “I’ll come as Sandy Claus.  You know, red hat trimmed with white fur and black boots.”  I think the boots are stylish and sexy.
     “What are you bringing to eat?” Heintz asked.
     “Finger food.”
     “Like what?”
     “It’s a surprise,” I don’t like Heintz when he gets pushy.  I asked, “Okay, what dish are you bringing, Heintz?”
     “A really smart dish.”  He gazed upward, trying to look aloof.
     “Like what?”  I used his own words like a sword…I thought.
     “Why, an empty one.  Why would I want to lose the space to put all the goodies you folks are bringing?”
     Everyone laughed, but me.  I tried again.  Heintz is notorious for his lack of taste…in clothes, or anything else, so I asked, “describe what your costume is going to look like.”  I figured I’d get even.
     “Oh…It’s one of those symbolic things.  I’ll have two arm bands on.  One with a swastika printed on it and the other with a hammer and sickle.  There will be a string tied to the base of my tail.  To the other end of the string, about six inches from where it’s attached, will be a large Idaho Baker.”
     “So?”
     “Don’t you get it?” Heintz leered. “I’m going to be a Dick-tater.”
     “I recommend we adjourn,” my friend Sarge said in his deep German shepherd voice.
     “Second,” said Lucy.
     “Adjourned.”  Peter didn’t bother with the formality of a vote.  Too much planning is a human thing.

    Oh……in case you were wondering what my finger food was, try spicing up your Octoweenfest table with these goodies.  Serve with a placard explaining what they are.

Head of Ghost.  (per each)
     1 – slice of provolone cheese
     1 – slice of pepperoni
     1 – ripe olive
Cut ripe olive in two and place on cheese slice for eyes.  Place pepperoni in proper position to be a mouth.  Walla!  A ghost head.

Bat’s eyes.
     Eggs, mustard, mayonnaise, sweet pickle relish, S&P –  What do you have?  Deviled Eggs….BUT, add red food color to the deviled portion before stuffing it back into the whites.  Then cut a green olive with pimento stuffing in two in a manner that the red is the center.  Place the olive half on the egg and Walla!  Bat’s eyes!

Lady fingers.  (per each)
     1/2 hot dog
     1 thin sliver of radish skin cut in an elliptical shape.
     1/2 slice of sandwich bread with crust removed.
     Catsup.
Remove a small slice of the cooked hot dog on the round end approximately 1/2″ x 1/2″ and about 1/8″ deep.  Cut a sliver off of the radish the same size or slightly larger.  Place the radish slice, red side up, on the hot dog where the piece was removed.  Put catsup in the center of the bread, 3/4″ wide by 3″ long.  Place the hot dog with radish side up in the middle of the catsup.  Walla-Walla…You have a lady’s finger complete with polished nail and blood! 

www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com

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