The Beastly Bathtub Brawl

A dark shadow stood on a windowsill of a large house in the upper class New York City. The shadow was small and hard to make out at first, but as it leaned from the windowsill and into the room, craning its neck, the luminosity from the nightlight lit up its form.

The shadow was a dog. A Chihuahua, to be exact. It was thin and mangy, but rather attractive as Chihuahuas go: with strong, graceful paws and legs, it was a master of light-footed agility. A mop of reddish fur was brushed up onto the top of its head, like human hair, and tied back with a stylish bandana. The Chihuahua had made himself look as clean and presentable as he could short of a bath. He always did this, on the nights he went to visit his love.

Resting on a red velvet pillow in the heart of a sea of scented comforters, there lay a classic poodle. She was utterly beautiful, with perfect fur, perfect nails, and fluffed ears that had won prizes of their own. Her chest rose and fell gently as she breathed, fast asleep.

The Chihuahua on the windowsill wagged his tail in delight, and as he feasted his eyes, he began to chant something like a crazy love poem that he had devised. It was, of course, based on any famous romance he could think of.

"If Juliet is the sun, my Georgette is the sky,

Beauty and the Beast makes them sigh,

But my love won't be outdone,

Georgette shines brighter than the sun!

Cleopatra is ugly an ugly tart,

When compared to my sweetheart,

And while Lions fall in love with Lambs,

What do they know of true romance?"

But unfortunately, as he compared his love to the frailty of other supposedly powerful romances, the Chihuahua got a little overzealous and ended with a second shout of,

"What do they know of True Romance?"

This vehement shout managed to do the one thing that the Chihuahua dreaded most: it woke the poodle on the pillow. The little dog on the window drew back, because although his love was strong, it was a secret love. However, it was too late to hide.

Georgette sprung up from her pillows, barked hysterically, "Winston! Winston! Winston! It's a robber! I knew this would happen—they're after my trophieeeeeees!" she ended in a long and deafening howl.

The poodle desperately tried to struggle to her feet, but the blankets tripped her up, and she crashed down on her spindly legs, face-first on the floor.

"Help! They've got me! I'm being attacked!" Georgette screamed, kicked and biting at the perfectly lifeless blanket. "I knew this day would day would come! I'm dying!"

She tried again to stand, succeeded, ran a few paces, and mis-stepped in the dark. She somersaulted across the room in a screaming ball of fluff and fur. She ended up in a ridiculous position with her forefeet and front leg legs all inter-tangled, and a knot of blankets on top.

The Chihuahua couldn't repress a small laugh. He coolly leaped off the windowsill and into the room, where he bowed elegantly to the damsel in distress. "My lady, allow me." with one quick tug he pulled the knotted mass of blankets away, and Georgette was free to stand up.

"Alonzo Federico De Tito!" Georgette shrieked. "Is that you?"

The Chihuahua bowed his head and his eyes were full of sorrow. "Yes, my dear, it is I, Tito. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I could not stay away."

The poodle's eyes filled with hatred. "Well what are you doing here? Why did you come crawling out of the dumpster to haul your dirty tail up here? Again?" she added.

"Again?" Tito asked.

"Yes, Alonzo. You and I both know what I mean! This is the fifth time you've bothered me. And you know what happened last time." Her eyes narrowed savagely.

Tito drew back with a nervous swallow. He did indeed remember. He had come to visit Georgette many times because he just couldn't get over her, but last time, due to a situation involving a prize-winning Labrador suitor named Rex, things had not gone well. Suffice it to say that he had been treated like a squeaky-bone-toy and tossed out the window with a rather comedic scream that echoed through upper-class homes for miles.

"I know how it is between us," said Tito, summoning up his courage and standing with his little chest puffed out. He spoke dramatically and was, to be honest, quite a funny sight. "I know we don't always understand each other. But I want us to be together. Again," he added.

"Again?" Georgette asked.

"Ci, Georgette. You and I both know what I mean! I'm talkin' about the time when we were together. We danced together for hours. You loved me. And don't forget how I cared for you when we were all out rescuing Jenny."

"Cared for me, indeed!" Georgette huffed. "As I recall, I broke a nail! You can't possibly begin to understand the tragedy of a prize-winning pooch breaking a nail that was so perfect, it won me three trophies! You destroyed my hopes of ever having flawless nails again! Now they are still uneven!" She moaned tragically.

Tito scoffed. "Uneven by what? A fourth of a millimeter?"

"Winston says it's by a third of a millimeter, to be exact."

Tito persisted. "But what about the dance, Georgette?"

"Ha! We danced for what, Alonzo? An hour?"

"One hour, ten minutes, and fifteen seconds, to be exact!" Tito barked. "You said I was a divine dancer!"

"Even if you are a good dancer," said the poodle with a prideful toss of her head, "I have other reasons. You know I have."

"Like what? Like big stupid Labs with no taste for movies, shows, or dancing?"

"Do not insult Rex!" Georgette snarled. "He isn't even the issue. The issue is, I cannot degrade myself by going with a mutt who won't even bathe, and who ignores my suggestions of fashionable dog-sweaters!"

"Hey, lady, I'm pure-bred Chihuahua! I'm warrior-dog, I am. Ain't you seen the movies? Chihuahuas are even popular in Hollywood! Is that not good enough for you?"

"No, it's not."

"Of course not." Tito narrowed his eyes and growled. "Nothing is very good enough for you. You're a spoiled, vain, arrogant, self-obsessed narcissist with the most raggedy nails this side of Beverly Hills!"

Georgette had had enough. "That's it, Alonzo. No more!"

The dogs pounced at the same moment, colliding into each other with astounding force. They hit so hard they both flew backward. Then, both getting up, they charged again, and met in a ball of teeth, claws, and flailing limbs. They fought savagely. Then suddenly, Georgette gripped the scruff of Tito's neck and lifted him off the ground.

"Hey, hey! Put me down!" Tito shouted, struggling.

Georgette did not put him down, but instead took off running…towards the bathroom. "Just wait, Alonzo," she laughed ferociously, "I'll make you clean!"

"No, no please!" Tito screamed in terror.

But it was too late to beg for mercy. Georgette had gone in the bathroom. She threw Tito with brute force into the fancy tub, and then one turn of the faucet was all it took for the water to start running. Georgette laughed cruelly.

"Ha ha, Alonzo! Prepare to be bathed!"

"Yeoooooowwwwwwww!" Tito screeched. "That water's HOT!"

Tito tried to climb out of the tub, but the sides were too slippery and he was too small. Water was rapidly rising. Georgette came running back to the tub's side with a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo in tow. She was still laughing with malicious delight.

Tito coughed and spluttered. He was getting desperate, and the soap was the last straw. "If I'm going down, lady," he cried, "I'm taking you with me!"

And with a surge of new energy, Tito flew out of the tub, grabbed Georgette by the ear, and fell back down, dragging the poodle with him. Both dogs fell into the water with a steaming splash. Soap bubbles rained down as the shampoo bottle belched out its cleansing goo.

"Wiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnstoooooooon!" Georgette hollered as she surfaced. "I'm being drowned!"

"Come on, lady!" Tito snarled, splashing water at her face, "let's end this!"

They both started splashing at each other, throwing soap, and trying to climb over each other to get out of the water. They shouted at each other as they fought.

"Take that, you pigheaded scoundrel!" Georgette cried. "You never cared about me! You only wanted me because of my trophies, just like everybody else!"

"That's not true," Tito said, fighting back. "I'm not a shallow trophy-seeker like you! You're just a selfish, brainless aristocrat!"

Suddenly both dogs stopped fighting. They realized that they had knocked the drain cap off, and the water was going down. In seconds, it would be all gone. But that was not the only reason they had stopped fighting. Each had been taken aback by the exclamation of the other.

"How dare you say I never cared," Tito growled. "Ever since I first saw you, it was not your trophies that made me love you."

"What else could it be?"

"I saw that you were unhappy. The way you reacted when we first came into your room, it showed me that you were fearful of other dogs, who only wanted you because you were pretty. I was stunned by your beauty, but I also just wanted to help you."

"Help me?" Georgette scoffed. "How?"

"Well, a little adventure might teach you not to care so much about your silly trophies. Plus, a struggle though hard times shows you who your friends really are."

"I…see," Georgette said. She calmed down, feeling both confused and flattered. In a second, though, her anger returned. "Alright, I admit that I'm sometimes too shallow. But asking you to bathe is not shallow! It's simply good hygiene."

"Good hygiene? Lady, it's torture!" exclaimed Tito. But no sooner had the words escaped his mouth than Tito realized something very odd. The water had gone down and he was alarmingly aware that he felt good. His fur was shinier, more colorful, and the scrubbing had removed a few annoying ticks and fleas. "Hey," he gasped, "I—I think I like being clean!"

Georgette got excited. "Oh, Alonzo, do you? I mean, you do look much better without that city mud."

Tito blushed. "Ah—really? You think I look nice?"

"You look three shades lighter, Alonzo. I never noticed the golden sheen."

"Golden sheen, eh? I like that." Tito grinned. "Hey, uh, baby—listen here. What if we, uh, got together again?"

"You mean, like we were for an hour an ten minutes. You'd have to take baths from now on."

Tito sighed heavily. "I can suffer through some soap. But I'm not a-gonna wear any doggie-jackets or hats. That's my boundary. Okey-dokey? So, will you take me back?"

"I never wanted to let you go in the first place," Georgette smiled. "Now, how about you show me some of that divine dancing of yours."

The Chihuahua smiled broadly. His fur was wet and cold, but inside, his whole heart was warmed.

The End