It all started with a whisper. Not from a human. No. From Athena. The elegant, intelligent, bi-eyed queen of strategic mischief herself. She paced the hallway like a tiny general in a fur coat, muttering under her breath and occasionally glancing dramatically at the calendar that no one taught her to read.
“Today is Auntie Jan’s birthday,” she announced, stopping mid-stride.
Obito, sprawled upside down on the floor like a recently collapsed beanbag, blinked at her. One ear flopped backward. His tongue was slightly out, catching wind like a flag of unbothered joy.
“Today is what?” he asked, tail already starting to thump.
“Her birthday,” Athena repeated, eyes glowing with the energy of a dog who had just discovered a freshly made bed. “Which means we must prepare. There must be cake. There must be chaos. There must be… a plan.”
Obito immediately flipped over, took three steps, and faceplanted into the kitchen trash can.
It was, tragically, the most graceful thing he would do all day.
Operation Auntie Jan was officially a go.
Step One: Decorations.
Athena carefully dragged out a bag of balloons from the storage closet. She nudged one experimentally. It wobbled. It squeaked. It offended her very soul. She slapped it with her paw and it popped instantly.
She howled.
Obito, startled by the noise, launched himself off the couch, tripped over the rug, and accidentally knocked over a mug. Then, believing the mug had attacked him first, he barked furiously at its remains.
Athena growled and glared at the remaining balloons. She was not going to be outsmarted by glorified chewing gum.
She tried again.
Pop.
Howl.
Obito, assuming it was a new game, joined in. He ran headfirst into a balloon arch and emerged with six static-charged balloons stuck to his face. He looked like a confused jellyfish trying to hold in a sneeze.
Step Two: The Cake.
Now, to be clear, the cake was not meant for dogs. It was a beautiful, triple-layer vanilla sponge with pink frosting, edible glitter, and a delicate topper that said “Happy Birthday Jan” in cursive. It had been lovingly prepared by the humans and placed on the dining room table with strict instructions not to be touched.
Naturally, this meant it was going to be destroyed.
Athena stared at the cake from the doorway like it owed her money.
Obito… did not stare. He simply followed his nose.
His very large, very wet, very enthusiastic nose.
He approached with caution, as if the cake might flee. He sniffed. He drooled. He drooled directly into the frosting.
Athena arrived just in time to witness Obito lick the side of the cake with the slow, dramatic elegance of someone tasting frosting for the first time and deciding this was, in fact, what life was all about.
“Obito,” Athena barked. “No!”
Obito froze, tongue mid-lick.
His eyes slowly drifted toward her, full of love, frosting, and zero regret.
Then, as if the frosting possessed his soul, he went in for another lick.
That’s when disaster struck.
His oversized paw hit the table leg.
The cake wobbled.
He panicked.
Athena leapt forward.
The cake flipped.
Time slowed.
Obito tried to catch it.
With his face.
Which is exactly how Auntie Jan walked in to find her glorious birthday cake splattered across the wall, the floor, and most of Obito’s enormous head.
Athena stood in the corner, looking as innocent as a squirrel in a flower crown.
Obito, tail wagging furiously, trotted toward Auntie Jan with the full, wet, loving enthusiasm of a Malamute who believes slobber is a love language.
He kissed her. Once. Twice. Twenty-four times. Each wetter than the last.
“Happy,” slurp, “birthday,” slobber, “Auntie,” snort, “JAN!”
Auntie Jan was stunned. Then she laughed. The kind of laugh that makes you question your life choices and your hygiene.
Athena, sensing the shift in tone, trotted over and delicately placed the cake topper, now slightly chewed, at Jan’s feet like a royal offering.
They threw a towel over Obito’s head. He wagged happily, wearing it like a birthday cape.
Later, they made a second cake. A smaller, slightly sadder cake.
Obito was not allowed near it.
Athena supervised the entire baking process with narrowed eyes and dramatic sighs.
Auntie Jan declared it her best birthday ever.
Not because of the backup cake.
Not because of the presents.
But because nothing says love like frosting in your hair and two derpy dogs who tried their very best to throw you a party and accidentally became the entire entertainment.
They ended the night snuggled together on the couch.
Athena, dignified and clean.
Obito, still slightly sticky.
It was perfect.
For them.
Not for the wallpaper. The wallpaper will never emotionally recover.



©️Lainey Green — intwined.blog