Thanks to Kylie Lee over at the Warp 5 Complex for giving me the idea for this story when her call for submissions for "Drown Malcolm Month" described him as "our hydrophobic Reed." I suspect this isn't what Volley had in mind for "Sickbay Month", but it's the best I could do.

Misdiagnosis

I lay in my doggie bed and listen to Dad and Uncle Trip. Uncle Trip had come over to watch the new play fetch with the ball in water game (although they all look pretty much the same to me), but now that it's over, he's taken a bottle of the foamy, yellow, bitter water that makes you act strange out of the cold box and is talking - no, on second thought - whining to Dad again about Watchdog (his human name is Malcolm Reed in case you didn't know).

It appears that Uncle Trip would like to make friends with Watchdog even though they seem to bark and even growl at each other a lot. Uncle Trip gets to pick the moving/talking pictures for No Work-Watch Moving/Talking Pictures Treat Night, and he thought he had chosen ones Watchdog would like, but every time he'd asked him to come, Watchdog always had other plans which usually turned out to be working late in the Guard House.

The first moving/talking picture had been about a huge fish with big teeth that thought humans were treats to eat. Even the music was menacing. Flower Lady Long Hair kept yipping "Eeew, gross!" all night but didn't leave. I don't understand why humans like to watch things that should make them want to tuck their tails (if they had tails) between their legs, run and hide under the bed. I was certainly glad I could hide under the table and behind Dad's feet since my leash wouldn't let me go anywhere else. Watchdog was the only one with enough sense not to come!

The second moving/talking picture was about a little fishing boat that got drowned by a really big wave. I was a little confused though, because the alpha male on the little boat reminded me of an emergency vet I'd seen somewhere. Maybe Watchdog thought the same thing and decided not to come. Neither one of us likes to go to the vet, you know.

The third moving/talking picture was about a great big boat full of humans that got turned upside down by another really big wave. It kind of reminded me of how Enterprise looks sometimes when we run into an unfriendly pack who don't want us in their territory. I yipped with laughter, though, when they showed what Watchdog calls "the loo" (that even sounds funny when he says it) and all the big bowls of water that Dad says I'm not supposed to drink out of because they are where humans "go out" were turned upside down and hanging from the ceiling. Watchdog doesn't laugh very much, but he might have liked that.

The fourth, and last, moving/talking picture was about a big rogue boat that it took a whole pack of boats, big and little, to catch and kill. That's what you have to do with things that go rogue because they are very dangerous. There were lots of things that went "boom." Watchdog really likes that. This time, I don't understand why he didn't come, either.

"Jon, I just don't understand Malcolm's taste in movies or lack thereof. Jaws is one fine 'creature feature', but he didn't wanna come. The Perfect Storm was award winnin' and a true story. Comin' from a seafarin' family, I thought he'd like it - but no, he didn't show up. Maybe The Poseidon Adventure was a little low-brow for him, but it was one of the best disaster flicks of the 1970s. Besides, the upside down toilets were a real hoot. I thought for sure he'd wanna see Sink the Bismarck. After all, one of his ancestors was there and helped, and he's always so proud of being English. I saved him a choice seat down front and got a big bucket of popcorn to share, but he spends the evening pullin' a double workin' in the armory. I just don't get it!"

"I know Malcolm and I didn't hit it off right away, but he kinda grows on ya. He's smart. He keeps me on my toes so I won't get lazy. Now that he understands that he can't just go hot wirin' the phase cannons to the warp core without talkin' to me 'bout it first, we pretty much get along fine professionally. I'd like to be his friend - show 'im that I don't hold grudges - but everything I try, I just keep strikin' out. I didn't have this problem with you. What am I doin' wrong?"

"First off, Trip, he's not me. Second, why don't you just ask him what he'd like to see? He might appreciate having his opinion valued."

"OK, I can see that, but I'd kinda like to do somethin' spontaneous that he'd like. Natalie always hated it when I'd ask, 'Ya wanna go out tonight?' without havin' a plan."

Uncle Trip probably should have stopped right there, but of course he didn't. It's a good thing that he and Dad have been friends for a long time so Dad understands that he isn't challenging him for dominance in our pack. "And the next time ya go payin' a call on some species we've just met, maybe ya oughta take your own advice and take a security detail with ya like Malcolm wants ya to. I'm sure he'd appreciate it no end."

Dad sighs and gives Uncle Trip a look that would make me assume a very submissive position and be very quiet. "He isn't Natalie, either. Now don't take this as a criticism of Malcolm, but he doesn't strike me as someone who particularly appreciates spontaneity."

"Maybe he just don't like movies, although I can't image why." Uncle Trip finally stops whining for a moment, and then his eyes light up. "I was looking over the tourist information for Hubble IV. There's a couple of places to go scuba divin' that remind me of home. Malcolm's a pretty athletic guy. Ya s'pose he'd like to come along?"

"No, Trip, I don't think he would." Dad's bark is firm as befits the alpha male and he raises a paw to cut off Uncle Trip before he can even get started. "I'm going to tell you something about Malcolm that you really need to know. It's something I suspect he feels he told me in confidence, so he's probably not going to be the least bit pleased when he finds that I've mentioned it to anyone else; however, I can't let you continue on your current trajectory, or the next time you think about putting yourself out an airlock, I doubt that Malcolm will lift a finger to stop you. In fact, he just might give you a shove."

"Malcolm has hydrophobia. Those movies you chose are probably the stuff of his worst nightmares."

"He's afraid of water?" Uncle Trip sounded confused. To be honest, I guess I didn't get it at first either. It was a shock to hear that Watchdog was so sick and likely to die even though Smiling Vet is (I hate to admit it) very smart and a good vet.

How could this disaster have befallen our pack? Didn't Watchdog get his shots? I don't like them either, but Dad and Smiling Vet make sure I get them and that I have the tag on my collar that says I won't give the scared of water disease to anyone if I bite them. Don't they care for Watchdog the same way they care for me? Maybe they thought it didn't matter because humans don't bite?

How could Watchdog have gotten the scared of water disease? We haven't had a chance to go out and mark territory for a long time, so he couldn't have gotten it from a new pack in a new place. I haven't heard of anyone else on Enterprise being sick. Besides, you'd have to be crazy to try to bite Watchdog. I suppose I could. I think he trusts me, so I could probably sneak up on him and bite, but I know better. Of course, maybe if I had the scared of water disease I wouldn't know better anymore.

"He's afraid of drowning in water," Dad clarifies, but I'm so upset at the thought of losing Watchdog that I don't really grasp what he's said.

"Oh jeez! Look, Jon, I don't wanna cause you any trouble, but I gotta find him and apologize. He probably figures that since we've been friends from way back, ya told me his secret long ago and I've been pickin' these movies just to jerk his chain. He must think I hate him and that I'm the biggest SOB in the universe." With that, Uncle Trip was out the door without so much as giving me a goodbye pat on my head. I wish I could have warned him that getting anywhere near a sick and angry Watchdog wasn't a good idea, but considering how much time they've both spent in Smiling Vet's territory, I suppose he really should know that by now.

If there's anything that dogs know about (besides eating, sleeping, going out, marking territory, begging and sniffing about the opposite sex), it's the scared of water disease. The thought of getting it and the nasty way you die from it terrifies all of us canines, even Hannibal, the big, black, bad attitude Rottweiler who helps guard Starfleet Headquarters (and if he says it doesn't, then he's lying). I can understand Dad not recognizing the signs such that Watchdog had to give him the sad news himself. Apparently, it's not that common in humans, and Dad's no vet, but I spend time with Watchdog. How did I miss the signs?

Let me see - the very first signs of the scared of water disease are slight changes in behavior along with a change in the sound of the bark and loss of appetite. Watchdog never seems to eat much. That's why he's small and thin, kind of like a Chihuahua but with a better coat, much quieter and a lot more dangerous. Come to think of it, Watchdog hasn't been as nervous around Dad lately. He seems to speak more frequently now, and I think he wants to be more friendly, even with Uncle Trip who's been so preoccupied with the moving/talking pictures that he hasn't noticed.

What about the symptoms of the next stage of the scared of water disease, the one the humans call "mad dog syndrome"? As if canines were the only animals that suffer from it! The more I think about it, the more alarmed I become by how many of these symptoms Watchdog has. Like I said before, there's constant barking and growling between him and Uncle Trip, and the lesser guard dogs sometimes complain of it, too. He gets irritable with them, but he says that's only when he doesn't think they're working hard enough to become best in show. He's often restless and roaming about the ship, but he says he's looking for weaknesses in the defense of our territory. He often looks anxious and hyperalert, but that's usually when Dad's around or when he's in Smiling Vet's territory. Both Dad and Uncle Trip have said that Watchdog can become frighteningly aggressive and show no fear, not even of the Bad Smell Mangy Mutt Pack who are much bigger than he is and sneaky and vicious like pit bulls, but that's usually only whenever someone in our pack is in danger. It's so confusing! All of these things seem to be good things, the kind of things a fine watchdog would do, but they are also symptoms of the scared of water disease and can't be ignored.

"Come on, boy. Trip ate me out of house and home again. Let's go see if Chef left anything particularly appetizing out, shall we?" Dad says as he fastens the leash to my collar.

When we get to the Chow Hound's territory, I see Watchdog sitting in the shadows and facing the entrance with his back to the wall like usual. What is not usual is that he is so busy eating that he doesn't notice Dad (or me) until Dad says, "Good evening, Malcolm. Have you seen Trip?"

Watchdog jumps a bit, sits bolt upright and tries to quickly swallow his food, but he begins to cough. He looks anxious. I notice an empty dish pushed to the side of his table. It smells of the sweet/sour yellow ring fruit, the same thing he's eating out of another dish. Food craving is another sign of the scared of water disease. Even worse, choking is a sign of the beginning of the end. Soon, Watchdog won't be able to swallow. He'll drool and foam at the mouth and then he'll die. Not even Smiling Vet will be able to save him.

Dad reaches behind Watchdog with a paw and hits him on the back a few times until he stops choking. "Sorry, Malcolm, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I'm fine, thank you, sir. No, I haven't seen Trip." Watchdog shakes his head. He seems a bit disoriented, another symptom of the scared of water disease. "Beg pardon, sir. Good evening. Would you care to join me?"

"Yes, thank you. I need to have a word with you before you see Trip." I begin to bark and growl and pull on my leash as Dad takes a seat across from Watchdog. I can be a good guard dog, too, when I have to be, and I know it's not safe for Dad to be this close to someone in the last stage of the scared of water disease. He doesn't pay any more attention to me, though, than he does to Watchdog when he recommends taking extra guard dogs and the little claws of fire when we go out to mark territory. "Porthos, bad dog! Be quiet!" he says in his "I really mean it this time" command voice.

Watchdog turns in his chair and taps his front paws on the inside of his haunches. "Porthos, up," he says quietly. Normally, I'd be happy to obey, but not now. I don't want to get the scared of water disease either, so I snarl and bare my teeth. Watchdog seems confused, sad and hurt. "I don't understand it, sir. I've never teased or abused Porthos. I wouldn't think of doing such a thing."

"I know, Malcolm. I can't imagine what's gotten in to him tonight. Maybe Trip fed him one of the peppers out of his sandwich. I swear, that dog will eat anything!" While Dad was denigrating my eating habits, not to mention my begging skills, he missed his opportunity to have a word with Watchdog before he saw Uncle Trip.

"Cap'n, I wondered what was goin' on in here. Hoshi and I could hear Porthos barkin' all the way down the corridor. I even considered callin' Security - thought there might be an intruder alert - but I see they're already here." Uncle Trip nods towards Watchdog with a grin, pulls out a chair so Flower Lady Long Hair can sit, and then takes another chair and sits backwards on it.

"Hey, Mal, I've been looking all over for ya. Good thing I ran into Hoshi and she told me Chef put pineapple out at supper. I need to apologize to ya 'bout the movies I've been showin' lately. I haven't been makin' fun of ya, honest. I really thought ya'd like 'em. I swear I didn't know until tonight - and the Cap'n didn't want to tell me - but he didn't want to have to put ya up on charges for shovin' me out an airlock for actin' like an ass when I didn't know I was."

"Pardon me, Commander, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Malcolm, I admit, sometimes you about get on my last nerve, but you're a fine engineer, and I respect that. I'd like for us to be friends. I've been pickin' movies for Movie Night that I thought you'd like and couldn't figure out why ya never came. The Cap'n sorta felt he didn't have a choice but to tell me it was because ya got hydrophobia."

Flower Lady Long Hair began to giggle. How could she think that Watchdog having the scared of water disease was funny? I began to growl and snarl at her. Watchdog didn't find it amusing either.

"Ensign, I fail to see why Commander Tucker thinking that I have rabies is a laughing matter."

With that, Flower Lady Long Hair got her giggles under control. "I'm not laughing at you, Malcolm. I'm laughing at Trip's misuse of the word and the way Porthos seems almost to understand what he said."

"What do you mean, 'seems almost to understand'? I do understand! If you're going to live with humans, you have to understand them. What part of that don't you understand?"

"The literal translation of both hydrophobia and aquaphobia is 'fear of water', but in common usage hydrophobia means rabies and aquaphobia means fear of drowning." Flower Lady Long Hair placed her paw gently on Watchdog's. "I'm not laughing about that either, Malcolm."

"We tease ya 'bout a lot of stuff, Mal, but we'd never tease ya 'bout somethin' serious like this. Heck, this whole thing started because I wanted you to know you were liked."

"That's right, and respected. You don't have to worry about this turning up on the ship's grapevine."

"It had best not, or I know who'll be put on punishment detail. Am I clear?" Dad asks in his best command voice. He looks intently at Uncle Trip, then Flower Lady Long Hair and finally at me (although I'm sure I don't know why).

"Aye, Cap'n. No problem. Ya think I want it to get around that somebody else aboard, this time a bona fide linguist, thinks I can't speak English?" Uncle Trip grins at Watchdog who murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like, "You can't."

"Yes sir." Flower Lady Long Hair's paw tightens it's grip on Watchdog's for just a moment.

I bark and nod my head.

Despite this, Watchdog's eyes are downcast and he looks terribly sad for someone who has just been told that he doesn't have a terminal disease after all and that the pack likes and respects him. I'm happy enough for both of us, though - joyously happy from the end of my snout all the way to the tip of my madly wagging tail. I know just what to do. I launch myself at Watchdog (remember, he did say, "Up, Porthos" before in his command voice). My hind legs are dancing all over his haunches, my front paws are scrabbling on his chest, and I'm licking his face and yipping in glee.

Once he gets over his surprise (I can't believe I actually surprised Watchdog!), he finally starts to laugh. Eventually, he says, "Porthos, lay down," in what I accept as a reasonable facsimile of his command voice. Of course I obey! He is the watchdog. Besides, I enjoy his strong but gentle paws rubbing my coat. I lay there and relax. Watchdog doesn't have the scared of water disease. It's only that he doesn't "fancy" water (as he'd say), just like those annoying C-A-T-S.

Wait a minute, what am I thinking? Watchdog is like a C-A-T? That's almost as bad as the scared of water disease!