Thirty Cookies, One Very Thirsty Lab
Go Dad! Go Grandma! Ryerson sat comfortably near their old apartment in his favorite yard, his eyes locked on the glowing phone screen.
He watched closely as Vincent posted his own video and then uploaded the application for his mom on Instagram. Both Vincent and his mom were officially entering the #finnishdinnerdate contest, and Ryerson was completely invested.
The big lab mix stared at his favorite person and his second favorite person in the whole world as they applied for the dating contest online. He was rooting for them with every single ounce of his loyal heart and soul.
The excitement instantly made him remember Grandma and the unforgettable cooking days they used to share. Back when she lived with them, she would always share delicious scraps with him while baking her famous pierogi or simmering a giant pot of Ukrainian borscht. Ryerson used to refuse to leave the kitchen whenever she had something magic baking in the oven.
Baking was definitely not his human dad’s forte—Vincent barely cooked anything, let alone baked. So, when Vincent’s mom first arrived from Ukraine to help take care of baby Leo, who was just three months old at the time, it became an absolute food feast for Ryerson.
This wonderful woman could do it all. She made homemade pizza from scratch! She baked fluffy cakes! Best of all, she prepared trays of crispy bacon and roasted meat in the oven that were so delicious, Ryerson was ready to die for a single bite. He knew that if anyone deserved a special trip to Finland, it was his two favorite chefs.
He distinctly remembered his days of glory when Grandma stood by the stove, frying fresh meat cutlets in a heavy iron pan. The kitchen filled with a warm, savory smell as the grease popped and sizzled. Right beside her feet sat Ryerson. The huge black dog watched her every move, his tail giving slow, hopeful thumps against the floor.
“Back up, you big shadow,” Grandma scolded playfully, nudging him with her slipper. “You aren’t getting any of these until they cool down.”
Ryerson knew that he was entitled to his share. One cutlet was his! But the wait was agonizing. Ryerson let out a soft, deep whine, letting his chin rest right on her foot.
Suddenly, Grandma turned too quickly to grab a plate. Her hand bumped the edge of the spatula, and one of the sizzling, partially fried cutlets flipped right out of the pan.
It never even hit the floor.
Ryerson snapped his jaws shut and snatched the scorching hot meat right out of mid-air.
“Oh my goodness! No, Ryerson! Drop it!” Grandma shrieked, dropping her spatula on the counter. “It’s boiling grease!”
But the big dog did not hesitate for a single second. He gave two lightning-fast chews, gulped hard, and swallowed the hot cutlet whole. His chest heaved once as the massive bite went down.
Grandma gasped, her hands flying to her face in absolute shock. She stared down at him, terrified the boiling meat would burn his throat. “Are you crazy? Your mouth must be on fire!”
Ryerson just stood there, completely unbothered. He looked up at her, gave a loud lick of his chops, and let out a satisfied “woof” that sounded like he was asking for seconds.
“You are a monster, not a dog,” Grandma muttered, shaking her head as she picked up her spatula. “Don’t you come crying to me when your stomach starts burning later.”
Ryerson just wagged his tail happily, keeping his eyes locked right back on the frying pan.
Or another memory stood out as his favorite of all the cooking moments he shared with that wonderful woman called Grandma.
Grandma spent the entire morning making a huge bowl of nut-shaped cookies filled with sweet condensed milk. The kitchen smelled wonderful, like toasted nuts and baked sugar. After filling the last crunchy cookie shell, she set the heavy glass bowl in the exact center of the dining table.
Then, she absentmindedly grabbed the baby stroller. She carefully placed three-month-old Leo into his cradle attachment and headed out for a short walk around the neighborhood before lunch.
The moment the front door clicked shut, Ryerson was ready. The giant black dog did not waste a single second. He trotted straight into the dining room and stood on his hind legs, balancing his heavy paws on the edge of the wooden table. His nose twitched as he stared at the mountain of treats. There were exactly thirty cookies in the pile.
Ryerson started eating them one by one. The cookies were crunchy, and the thick, sticky condensed milk oozed out with every bite. He didn’t care about the crumbs falling onto the rug. He just chewed, gulped, and snatched the next one. He went around the entire rim of the bowl, snapping up every single cookie until the glass was completely bare. When the last cookie was gone, he spent a solid ten minutes extensively licking the inside of the bowl, trying to catch every stray smear of sweet caramel milk.
By the time Grandma returned from her walk, Ryerson was sitting innocently by the door. But Grandma was immediately suspicious. The big dog was panting heavily, and his tongue kept rolling out of his mouth.
“Ryerson, what happened?” Grandma muttered, looking at his guilty face. She could not understand why he was acting so strange.
Ryerson wagged his tail slowly and nudged his metal water bowl with his snout. He was incredibly thirsty from eating all that thick, sugary milk.
“I just filled it up until the very edges before leaving!” Grandma said, totally surprised. She looked at the bone-dry dish. As she poured fresh water from the pitcher, Ryerson immediately pushed his nose into the stream and began drinking frantically, lapping it up until the bowl was empty again.
Grandma shook her head and went to take care of baby Leo. She completely forgot about the kitchen. It was only in the evening, when Vincent returned home from work, that she decided to boast about her cooking skills.
“Vincent, I cooked your favorite nut-shaped cookies with condensed milk today!” Grandma cheered proudly.
“Mom, you are amazing!” Vincent said with a bright smile. “I loved them so much when I was a kid! Let’s eat them with some hot tea right now!”
They walked into the dining room together and sat down. Only now did they notice the glass bowl sitting under the hanging light. It was completely empty. The mountain of thirty treats was gone. The only thing left was a sticky, cloudy film of condensed milk smeared all over the glass, covered in clear swirl marks where someone had licked it clean.
“What happened?” Vincent asked, staring in disbelief. Grandma stood frozen, her jaw dropping as she finally connected the empty cookies, the dry water bowl, and the panting dog.
Before anyone could look his way, Ryerson quietly slunk out of the room. He slipped through the back door and decided to hang out in the backyard for the rest of the evening. He knew it was best to stay out of sight, since only he knew the delicious truth of what had happened just a few hours ago.
