Gemotions

The scent of urine was the last straw. Spike, the chihuahua, had a talent for marking his territory, and apparently, that territory included Arthur’s prize-winning tomatoes. Arthur stared at the little dog with absolute ire.

He felt a deep need to *do* something. He felt his hands clench at the injustice. He walked to the shed, ignoring the pleasant sunshine.

He retrieved his sprinkler system, the kind with the motion sensors. He spent the entire day configuring it, ensuring the spray reached every inch of his yard. He set it to the highest sensitivity. He waited. He barely slept that night, waiting. The next day, he heard a yelp, and laughter, bubbling up from deep within.