River Has a Drinking Problem

"That's enough, River!" I heard mommy say from off in the distance. Mommy never tells me this; she can't get enough of the things I do, except when I am slurping water out of the bowl. 

I am a dog of tiny mouth, nose, and tongue.  To fully quench my thirst I need to stick my face, up to my ears, in the water and lap like a hummingbird trying to get the last bit of frozen nectar from a feeder in winter. 

Mommy doesn't like me spending too long drinking water because I am not a good judge of how much I can hold.  Sometimes, when I finish, water gushes from my throat, causing me to leave a puddle on the floor. 

Pocket has a small snout too.  Still, she can get a drink by gently lapping water.  Conversely, she has no empathy for my troubles.  

"Did you double dunk that bowl?" Pocket asked while waiting behind me for a drink. 
"What?" 

"You took a dunk, you came up for air, and then you dunk again!'

"So?"

"That's like putting your whole head in the bowl!"

"I have to put my whole head in the bowl. It's how I drink!”  I yelled back.

Pocket shot me a disgusted look and walked away.  She complained to Mommy that I was leaving "floaters" in the water.  That is not my fault. I sniff outside then I get stuff on my big, thick beard. When I stick my head in the water to drink debris comes off. I hear Karl Marx had similar problems with soup. 

After I get a drink twice as much water drips from my beard, then I consumed.  I leave a water trail, like that monster in The Shape Of Water does on the floor.  If I am the monster, then Mommy is the cleaning lady following me around with a Swiffer to keep the water from settling and loving me with all her heart.

Then there is the problem with the noise I make while drinking.  I am rather loud. Mommy says it is a cross between two blind dolphins trying to French kiss and a hypoallergenic monkey attempting to perform oral sex on himself.   Either way, it seems to be upsetting to delicate ears. 

Forgive me, but I think I am an old school drinker.  Animals weren't meant to be like Pocket and delicately lap their water like a Disney princess caring for a dehydrated chipmunk.  We are meant to be noisy, like the rhinos slobbering up more than their share of water on Noah's Ark, or a bunch of Buffalo Bills fan doing a kegstand in the freezing cold stadium parking lot after another close loss.  

I may not be a proper date for a distinguished ball. I grunt when I eat, I snort when I drink, I fart indiscriminately, I leave a trail of water wherever I go, I am a double licker, I have been pregnant, I am not the dog you bring home to mother, but I am loyal, lovable, and give great stare.


I am an All-American dog.  God loves me for it.