I jumped up and rushed toward the sound. Here, out in the driveway, is my dog, with the pie pan licking it incessantly. Trying to get every last bit of the pie from the tin.
That's the sound.
And, there's my pie. Or what's left of it.
The sound is the damn tin hitting the tree with every lick and then bouncing back to the pavement.
My first thought? "Boy, is that dog going to have gas tonight" and "I'm going to have to make another pie." But he did seem to enjoy it. The cookbook is for "Meals Men Like". Notice it wasn't the female dog who gluttonously ate the pie.
Problem solved. I can chill.