Penny and Bob are amenable to sharing a water dish. For
those of us who worried if they would ever peacefully coexist, this is a great
relief. Still, this requires me as pet parent to ensuring that said water dish
is always full. I confess I am not so good at that.
Ya see, all my previous dogs, and even cats, have figured
out how to drink from the toilet. Much as we pet owners have positioned
ourselves as being disgusted by this, we are secretly delighted that our
furbabies have a constant source of water if we fail to refill the bowl with
clean drinking water. Which we frequently do. We’re not perfect.
So, ya know, the toilet’s a pretty good back up to making
sure our pets don’t get dehydrated.
Unlike my previous dogs, tank-like small Bob just can’t get
into the toilet. And Penny, gymnast that she is, doesn’t seem to have the
dexterity to pull it off either. And I wonder – are my furbabies uniquely
lacking? I mean, Bob is not big, but he’s not Paris Hilton accoutrement size
either.
No. They are not absurdly or fashionably small. They just
can’t reach the toilet, and thereby assuage me of guilt of their dehydration. Huh? Why?
And I realize when I scrub the toilets, and they take
interest. I put the seat up. Which, being a single female, doesn’t happen very
often. After I flush down the Comet, of course, they are VERY interested. Special moment when the seat goes up.
So someone missing in my life turns into something missing
it their life. As simple as how to pee and drink. Who knew.
Bob’s mom realizes it’s not all that simple solo. Even if we’re
only talking dogs and cats.
Good lesson. Thanks Bob.
