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Momma looked from one pup to the other, trying to gauge which one would need to be gone after and herded back first. She decided on puppy three. She stepped out of the basket, leaving the other two with her there, and walked quickly over to the straying pup. "Come along back to the basket, Three. I want you to stay with the others."
"But, Momma, I want to go explore that crack in the wall. There are good smells coming from it."
"That's called a door, but not today. Come back to the basket."
Three didn't answer. Instead she tried to get around Momma to get just one sniff from under the door. Momma reached down and nipped her on the scruff of the neck, then picked her up and trotted back. "Hey -- Hey -- Hey -- Hey! I want to smell the door thing!" Three whined.
Then she was back in the basket and Momma gave her "The Look". Three subsided and Momma went for puppy seven.
Puppy seven was watching the janitor. He had seen the man come in with a bucket and a mop and a sign. The sign had been placed sideways to Seven so that he could not read it. Seven had been trying to position himself to see it, but Janitor had been splashing the floor and then drying it again, so Seven's progress had been slow.
Finally, just as Momma had picked up Three, Janitor stopped splashing and drying. Seven stood up and toddled to where he could see the front of the orange colored sign. Then he squatted and emptied his bladder on the clean floor just before Momma got to him. Unfortunately, Janitor had been watching the pup too.
"Hey! I just washed that!" He reached Seven in a couple of strides. Momma sat down, uncertain of what to do, and Janitor picked up Seven. "You silly pup," Janitor said, and gently tweaked his nose. "You're not supposed to do that in here. Come on, you lot, it's outside with the bunch of you. You too, Momma."
Janitor kept Seven in one hand and picked up Two, Three, and Six with the other. Then he started for the door to the kennel yard. Momma trotted along at his side. Out in the yard, the other three litter mates in the large basket saw Janitor coming with the pups Vet had been taking care of.
"What's up, you guys?" Five asked.
Three, who was disappointed at not getting to the door and unhappy with Momma, decided to take it out on Seven. "Loss of bladder control," she said, looking pointedly at the lone pup in the other hand. "Guess who made a mess and got us all thrown out."
"Ew! Seven lost con-tro-ol; Seven lost con-tro-ol," Five chanted. One gave him a disgusted look as Janitor placed Seven in the basket.
"Well," said One, "that certainly gives me an idea for a name for you, Seven."
"A name?" Seven looked at him, curious. "What name?"
"I think we should call you `European'."
The other six puppies burst into squeals of laughter. "Hey! That's not funny!"
Three said to One, loudly, "That's a good idea. I wonder what kind of European breed he is; a French Puddle?"
Five cocked his head. "I don't know. If you ask me he looks more like a cockapiddle." This was followed by fresh gales of laughter.
Seven hung his head, then went over to Momma and slumped down into the wood shavings, looking as if he were ready to cry. "Now, now, dear," Momma said, and she draped a paw over his shoulders. "They were just teasing. They don't mean any of it."
"But I don't like it anyway!"
"Well, you have to expect that sort of thing for what you did. For heaven's sake, Seven, you know better than that."
"Well, gosh, Momma, what was I supposed to do? The sign said `WET FLOOR'."