OldFaithful

Sailor here. We had what Mom calls another Zoe plumbing disaster in the backyard last week. Actually, it was pretty cool. Zoe entertained me for a long time, I didn�t get muddy, and nobody got in trouble. I�m not exactly sure how it began except to say that is all started when Zoe came to visit. Katy brought her down from San Francisco even though Mom was still at work because Katy wanted to relax in our sunny yard, work on her Italian, soak in the sun�s rays, and watch the doggies play. Fat chance.

Zoe instigated a game of chase and we were flying over and through the bushes when one of us, I won�t say just who, banged into what Mom calls the hose bib. Again, I see no bibs here, but there is a hose attached to this pipe which waters the tomatoes. (I am forbidden to water the tomatoes myself.) Suddenly, the pipe was stretched out relaxing on the earth and with a WHOOSH and a SPLASH, a geyser to rival Old Faithful was spouting from the ground. Wowsers!

I was enthralled. Zoe was overjoyed and immediately began to dig, dig, dig in the rapidly forming mud. Water was flung every which way and I managed to avoid a wetting, but just barely. Quickly Zoe�s little white paws became little black paws, her white belly turned black, and her head disappeared into the geyser hole. She was soaked.

�Come on, Sailor, help me dig to gophers,� Zoe panted. �This is really fun!�

�Well, I dunno,� I replied hesitantly, dodging a faceful of muddy water. Usually digging is frowned upon here. �Remember the huge hole you dug in the lawn last week? That got us put in kennel detention for the rest of the afternoon.�

�Chicken, �said Zoe, and I don�t think she was referring to our dinner which was currently thawing on the kitchen counter.

Katy, concentrating on Italian, glanced up with a quizzical look on her face at the commotion. Her eyes widened in horror. Rude Italian words emanated from her mouth. I was thrilled. Wringing her hands, she ran to the scene of the crime.

�Ack, Zoe, noooo!� was all I heard her say in English.

In no time, the corner of the garden was flooded. Zoe kept digging. The geyser kept spouting.

Katy grabbed Zoe and put her into the dog run for safe keeping. She then ran into the house, leaving me outside all alone wondering what would happen next. What happened next was the water suddenly stopped. Soon, Katy came back from around the front of the house, having the presence of mind to turn off the water completely.

�Does this mean that my water bowl will be empty?� I asked Zoe from across the yard.

�Nah,� said Zoe. �Mom always makes sure we have what we need.�

I knew that.

A short while later, a man in overalls smelling like pipe dope and rust came trotting into our garden. I woofed in greeting and booped him with my nose. I know Roger very well; he saves us from all our plumbing emergencies. He is my friend even though he carries no cookies in his pocket, just odd assorted pieces of metal and plastic. Today he was brandishing a white wand looking suspiciously like one of Mom�s do-it-herself weave poles.

Roger took a piece of plastic from his pocket and used a saw and a shovel and made a new hose bib from the lazy hose bib. He stuck a strong piece of metal pipe into the ground and lashed the no-longer-lazy hose bib to this pipe for stability. Then he turned the house water back on, checked for nonexistent leaks, patted my head getting it a bit muddy, and drove away with a laugh and a wave.

For the next few minutes, the house water sounded funny and made loud HissSpit noises. My water bowl was filled with new water. Zoe got out of jail, was rinsed off, and took a nap by the front door. Mom came home and was regaled with the afternoon�s adventures. Mom says that all�s well that ends well, and that was certainly the end to our well.

I think Zoe and I will be going to the DogWash this weekend.

Sailor the young faithful collie