Words to live by

Continuing with Murphy's exposure to all sorts of daily life, I brought him with me into our guest bathroom this morning to practice a quiet sit while I "got busy", as we euphemistically instruct the pups when it's time for them to ... um ... well ... you're getting the idea, I hope.

This is our downstairs bath, the one that's roughly about 4 x6 feet, the size of a walk-in closet. (The master bath is currently ripped up, but that is a whole other story.)

I thought I'd been reasonably prudent by removing the wastecan. Not much else in there as a distraction. Then I hear a fervent growl and hiss coming from behind the shower curtain.

For whatever reason, Socks -- who is still NOT fond of Murph -- had been hanging out in the tub, and he was not pleased to be locked in a 4x6 foot room with a Lab. Heck, I'm not sure any of us were at that point.

Socks snarled and growled. Murphy's ears shot up and he had what could only be described as a look of astonishment. I clamped onto the leash and finished my mission one-handed in a most expeditious manner so that I could fling open the door and move Murphy one way while Socks fled.

But, Murphy sat and STAYED while Socks snarled and hissed only two feet away. That, my friends, is progress, even though this whole episode was probably over in a minute.

Now I'm off to find Socks, who needs a pill, adding insult to the horror.

I think the moral here is, never assume that there isn't a cat hiding behind the shower curtain.

Or something like that.