When life gives you tomato paste

by Hyacinth Bean

My name is Princess Hyacinth.  I am a royal Pekingnese descendant.  I was one of six offspring to King Aldrich and Queen Adalgisa.  By a strange twist of fate of which my understanding is very limited, I was adopted by Jenny Bean. . . . Sometimes I wonder if I was kidnapped.

Case in point:  on Wednesday of last week, Jenny referred to me as “odiferous” and then subjected me to a very thorough bath. 

I was not happy.

On Saturday, she decided that said odor had returned and then she left Maison Bean with Moose in tow.  The next time I saw her, she had a $15 bottle of dog shampoo, two cans of tomato paste and a determined look on her face.  Once again, I found myself in the bathtub.  This time, however, I had to endure an odor treatment in TOMATO PASTE, and if that was not horrible enough, she laughed and took my picture. 

I was not happy.

In fact, I was so unhappy that when Jenny left me soaking to investigate a loud crash coming from Papa’s quarters upstairs, I seized the opportunity to remedy the situation.  I jumped out of the tub and ran into Jenny’s room.  The first thing I did was have a good shake.  Then I made my way to the living room where I divested the remainder of the tomato paste on the living room rug.  Forty-five seconds had passed.  In the meantime, there was a cacophony of screams and crashes. 

Soon thereafter Moose came thundering through the living room clad only in a diaper with Jenny behind him.  In his fat little hand Moose carried an uncapped blue Sharpie that he had apparently been using to create abstract art on the walls of Papa’s room.

When she saw me sitting on the couch, Jenny shrieked.  It was blood curdling.  She lunged frantically at Moose and grabbed the Sharpie, and then she may have had a nervous breakdown.

Reinforcements arrived.  Jules, the babysitter.  Mimi.  Aunt Belle.  Papa. 

Jules took Bean 1 and 2 to the Park.  Mimi and Belle commenced cleaning.  And Papa gave me a bath in the $15 shampoo.

I was not happy.

Jenny returned home that night in a cab.  She was singing, which is always scary (Jenny cannot carry a tune).  She seemed unusually happy and more uncoordinated than usual.  And then she fell asleep in her clothes on the bed and snored. I slept in Bean 1’s room under the bed.

I was not happy.

On Sunday, the sun shone.  Bean 1 and Bean 2 frolicked in the kiddy pool.  Moose removed his bathing suit and went au naturel.  Jenny drank a Coke and popped a few Advil.  Birds were singing and butterflies were dancing in the breeze, and I caught a whiff of an alluring scent.

I went to investigate and found a gold mine.  Papa had added some goodies to the compost.  I had a nice little repast and then rolled around and luxuriated in the glorious smell.

Life was good.  I was happy.

About Hyacinth Bean
Princess Hyacinth is the resident bitch at Maison Bean.  She is the author of When the Monarchy Crumbles, Write a Self-Help Guide. She likes brownies, long naps, squeaky balls and anything that smells unpleasant.  She is 10.75 years old.

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