I’m sure by now you can guess how this starts and you would be right.
“Liza!” Harold charged into the den with his naked tail flicking. Harold, due to his refusal to clean himself, had set his tail on fire and it was now completely nude.
I looked up from my usual perch on the couch. Being the dog of the family, my job was to sleep on the couch, eat Oreo cookies and, evidently, keep Harold out of trouble.
“What is it now Harold?” I yawned. The job of a black lab was never done … especially when you had to live with Harold.
“There … water … down …” the cat panted.
Something had scared him, I’m sure. But then, he tended to panic about every little thing; missing tail fur, stolen birdseed, taking a sixty-mile-per-hour fear ride on top of a minivan, you know, the normal day-to-day stuff in our lives.
But this time was different. Oh, who am I kidding? No it wasn’t!
“Calm down Harold, it was just the humans doing whatever it is that they do,” I assured him and then laid my head down on the couch again.
“But the water!” Harold exclaimed in his stinky sort of way, “It goes away! They made it go away!”
“There’s plenty of water,” I sighed, “When our bowls run out, the humans will fill them again.”
I giggled a bit to myself before adding, “It’s hooooman maaaagic!” I said with big, saucer eyes.
“Liza! I’m serious!” Harold whined. “They have a bowl in the room with the porcelain pond …”
“It’s a bath tub Harold,” I groaned as I heard Dad change the channel to the news, “That’s where I get my baths and you would too if you would let them.”
Did I smell … bacon!? That most glorious of all things, the greatest invention humans had ever, ever, ever made? Bacon!? Lifting my head, I sniffed at the air.
“Yes, Mom is making breakfast,” Harold rolled his eyes. “But this is more important!”
More important than eggs in bacon grease!? Impossible!
“Oh really Harold?” I sat up and sniffed at that salty, greasy goodness that was wafting about the house.
“I’ll show you,” Harold said with a harumph and then turned to walk toward the bathroom. “If you come with me I’ll let you have my eggs,” he smiled deviously.
The mangy old cat never saw what hit him. To this day I doubt he thought I could move that fast. Honestly, I didn’t mean to run him over like he was a cat crossing the street, but nobody got between me and eggs with bacon grease. I did momentarily see him rolled up in a ball and flying into the kitchen as he got entangled in my legs.
A few minutes later, Harold found me sitting patiently in the front bathroom. Good dogs sat and waited patiently, especially when they were going to get eggs with bacon grease.
“Yeah,” Harold mumbled, “So anyway, they made the water disappear here …” he stopped talking as he jumped onto the toilet.
Yep, he was stumped.
“But … it …” he stared into the bowl with wild, terrified eyes, “it was gone! It was all gone!”
I padded across the bathroom so I was standing behind him.
“Check closer,” I said nonchalantly. “I’m sure you’ll see what happened.”
As Harold leaned over to get a better look, I bumped him into the toilet with my nose. Shrieking and meowing at the top of his lungs the mangy, nasty cat struggled to fight his way out of the toilet. But the best was yet to come.
I reached up and pulled the handle down with my paw. Harold’s eyes grew as big as tires as the flood waters rushed around him. Around and around Harold went, his long yellow fur, the fur that wasn’t clumped up with mats and stickers, swirled around him.
And then, inexplicably, the water was gone and Harold took his chance. Swirled fur and all bailed out of the toilet with water spraying the bathroom.
“It’s just another water bowl,” I explained. “The humans use the lever to give us fresh cold water. That’s all.”
Dripping wet and looking like he was about ten pounds lighter, the mangy cat looked up at me, “You did that on purpose.”
Yes, yes I did.