Everything was fine until we had to explain to Paul the bucket.
We showed him the bucket—ordinary bucket—put a cat in there, carried it around, took the cat out, gave it to him, gave him the bucket. We said, “The cat. Goes in. The bucket,” and pointed, but he just didn’t get it.
We tried to make him put the cat in there. Bad idea. Claw caught him right on the lip. Blood on Paul. Blood on the cat.
Maybe he’s just not cut out for it. Maybe it was a bad bucket. Maybe it was the wrong cat.
We can't know for sure. All we can do is try. Tomorrow the sun will rise and bring forth a new day. We’ll dunk Paul in the horse trough again, try with a new bucket, a new cat. Everything will be new and fresh. No old and worn out ideas to get in the way.
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