At the time, we had a Wirehaired Fox Terrier named Sherman. Sherman was no slouch in the food-finding department, but he had a rather delicate stomach. Although my folks were terrible about feeding him from the table, they were very careful about what he ate. In her haste to fetch us, Mom forgot that hard-boiled eggs are still edible, whether they're colored or not.
About fifteen minutes after waking us, Mom ushered us downstairs only to discover the remains of three dozen colored hard-boiled eggs strewn all over the family room's shag carpet, and a belching, flatulent, groaning Fox Terrier to greet us. Dad scooped Sherman up and deposited him in the back yard to dispose of the consequences of his enormous snack, while Mom comforted two weeping little girls whose Easter had just been ruined. Our only consolation was that the Easter bunny also visited our church, later in the day...she would've had a real mess on her hands had that not been the case.
When Sherman was in his dotage and having difficulty consuming dog food, Mom hit on the idea of feeding him scrambled eggs for extra protein. Needless to say, Sherman quickly turned up his nose. I'm sure he remembered the many hours he spent exiled in the yard, expelling pastel-colored evidence of his Easter snack.