The original water dish, next to Ray's food dish, was whisked away and replaced with the new high-tech device. The burbling water didn't make enough noise to set off the doghorn and the little motor that recirculates the water made an almost imperceptible low hum, nothing loud enough to disturb anyone.
Juno was the first to use the new appliance. After circling back and forth in front of it for a minute or two, curiosity got the better of her. Juno interestedly watched the water flow from the little well at top to the pool below. She tried a little, found that it was just like the old water, lost interest, and left.
|I THINK, it's just water|
|Yeah. Yep. It's just water.|
I went to the dish, dipped my fingers in the water, and waggled them. Ray's head tilted to one side; he moved a step closer. I waggled my fingers again. Ray moved close enough for me to stretch my arm out and put damp fingers under his nose. Ray licked the water off. I repeated the gesture. Again Ray licked the water off then stepped closer listening to the water move as I dipped my fingers in the bowl again. After repeating this four or five times, Ray stepped to the bowl and took a sip. I mentally congratulated Santa for the bright idea of the new bowl.
|Do you hear that?|
I started to wonder what had prompted the new ritual and sadly came to the conclusion that the new water dish was the culprit. Although the low hum of the motor didn't bother the humans or the cats in the household, it obviously bothered the blind hound.
What IS that?
|I don't like it. I don't like it at all.|
|You need to do something about this.|