April 19, 2013

White Dog just shook her head and headed for a nap on the bed. The others swarmed around the door wanting to make it clear that they were innocent of the reigning mayhem when Steve returned from buying mackerel.

Quinn was making sad pitiful moaning noises from the bathtub where he was "jailed" and waiting for me to finish cleanup before attending to him.

Steve has been diligent in watering the trees to give them a strong start as they bud and leaf out before the summer heat relentlessly beats at them. Alternating mornings either the front or the back yard gets a thorough soaking. Today was the backyard's turn. Before running over to the market to buy fish for the week's WDA meals, he quickly let Quinn out and distractedly ushered him in through the others and a cell phone call and rushing to get out of the door ahead of the insistent "I want to go, too" Puff and White Dog.

YoYoMa and I were sharing a moment of deshedding and "sit.wait." practice so I did not look up as I heard Quinn walk across the kitchen to his favorite drinking dish in the corner of the living room. But when Yo's reaction got squirmy and his focus shifted to the other side of the room I was redirected.

There was The Other White Dog, our quiet slow unassuming perpetual "good boy" with mud halfway up all four paws standing in the water bowl to wash his feet. Oso was pushing around him trying to get a drink from the dirty water. A trail of mud prints showed his path through the kitchen and onto the carpet. "Oh Quinn! Oso leave that water alone...LEAVE IT!" was enough to startle Quinn who overturned the bowl and walked through the water in his attempt to escape. New wet muddy prints followed him across the carpet and into the office, where I captured him in my arms.

Our sensitive boy was shaking and still dripping water from his long leg feathers. I gathered him in my arms and soothed his shaken psyche then deposited him in the tub to await cleanup.

Meanwhile the entire WDA felt the need to play CSI, investigating every detail of the crime scene by walk through it and reenacting the event. The water had been spread over a quarter of the room and nearly everyone had wet feet of their own (not White Dog, there is no way she would ever be so untidy). I grabbed the cleaning bucket which is filled with old towels and rags and started spreading them to blot up the water (which created the new game of "what's under THIS cover?). The bucket I filled with warm soapy water and dragged out the mop...and put the baby gate across the kitchen doorway.

I took a break to visit Quinn in the bathroom and to reassure him that he was fine and should just settle down until I came back in a few minutes. For once, he actually took my advice and sank to the bottom of the tub. "Dad's home!" I told him joyfully hearing the van pull into the drive. "Things will be back to normal soon, you will see."

When Steve walked in the door he was greeted by the WDA chorus of "I am innocents" and looked at me. "Looks like you all had a party while I was gone!" "Yep, and you are just in time for cleanup," I agreed. "There is a mudpuppy in the tub anxious to see you."