Me: How did this water get all over the hardwood?

Little Dog: Me. I did that.

Me: You don’t even like water.

Little Dog: Not strictly true. I like the splooshing sound it makes when it hits the floor.

Me: You realize that when I step in it my socks get soggy.

Little Dog: You realize that when you walk across the floor in your wet socks it makes an intriguing splooshing sound.

Me: Look, Dog…

Little Dog: Let me show you how it’s done. First, you fill your mouth up with water. Then, you slowly walk across the dining room, letting it drool out in as many places as possible. Rinse and repeat.

Me: Dog…

Little Dog: Great game, right? Let’s do it again.

Me: I will move the water bowl further into the kitchen. I know how you feel about the kitchen.

Little Dog: My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me. That’s Thomas Hardy.

Me: No, that’s Jane Austen. Wait, what are you doing now?

Little Dog: I might be climbing up onto the table to see if the child left any food there. Maybe. I don’t know.

Me: Dude.

Little Dog: Or I could be making a play for your hat. So crunchy and delicious.

Me: Go back to drooling water all over the floor.

Little Dog: I knew you’d end up seeing it my way.