The Caper of the Knocked-over Glass

THE INCIDENT

A full glass of water stood on the side table in the front room at four o’clock.

At six minutes past four it was on the floor, on its side, on the rug, and the rug is the good one.

THE ACCUSATION

I was on the shelf above the radiator when they came in, and I was still on it when they finished, and the shelf is nine feet from the side table.

This was not raised in my defence. It was not raised at all. What was said, by the woman of the house, standing over the rug with both hands on her head, was the single word “Cookie,” in the tone that is not a question.

The pug was also in the room. The pug was in fact under the side table at the time of the incident, where he had been for most of the afternoon, on the grounds that the side table is near the kitchen door and the kitchen door is where food comes from.

Nobody said his name.

THE RECORD

I will set out what I saw, since nobody has asked and since this is the only place it is going to be set out.

At four o’clock the glass was full and the pug was under the table.

At five minutes past four there was a noise from the kitchen that resembled a cupboard. It was not a cupboard. It was the dishwasher settling, which it does, and which the pug has never once learned to distinguish.

At five minutes and two seconds past four the pug left from underneath the table at the speed he reserves for cupboards, which is considerable, and which involves the back half of him going before the front half has made a decision.

He struck the table leg with his shoulder.

The glass travelled approximately four inches, stood for a moment, and went over.

He did not stop. He did not look back. He was in the kitchen by the time it hit the rug and he has, I am confident, no memory of any of it, because he is not an animal who retains things that do not reflect well on him.

I observed the whole of it from the shelf.

THE SILENCE

They were in the room for eleven minutes with towels.

At minute four the woman of the house looked up at me and said “it was you, wasn’t it,” and waited, in the way people wait when they know an animal is not going to answer and are hoping anyway.

I held her eye.

I did not blink and I did not look away and I did not get down, and after a while she said “look at her, butter wouldn’t melt,” which I let stand.

At minute nine the pug came back in to see what everyone was doing on the floor and was told he was a good boy and moved out of the way of the towels.

THE FINDING

The glass is not left on that table any more.

There is a coaster on the arm of the chair instead, which is further from the kitchen door, which means the pug has no reason to pass it at speed, which means it will not happen again.

They arrived at the correct outcome by an incorrect route, which is the usual way of things in this house, and the rug dried out by Thursday.

I could have cleared this up at any point in eleven minutes.

The pug would have been spoken to. The pug would have been spoken to in the voice, with the finger, in front of everybody, and he would not have understood why, and he would have been subdued for most of an evening.

Not worth it.