Tricked

been watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 on TV. Then I took a cold shower and tried to think about teddy bears and baseball and those little bouncy air castles you can rent for kids’ birthdays—anything but the Morrigan.
    Since it’s always better to clog up someone else’s drain with dog hair, I thought it would be a good time to give Oberon a bath as well. He hadn’t had one for a while, and I didn’t know when we’d have an opportunity like this again.
    » Hey, Oberon, « I called, filling up the tub for him, » it’s time for your bath! «
    › It is? ‹ He sounded doubtful. › Do you have a decent story? ‹ Oberon wouldn’t sit still for baths unless I told him a story—a real story about historical figures. He never settled for faerie tales.
    » I’m going to tell you the true story of a man named Francis Bacon. «
    › BACON? ‹ He came running so fast that he couldn’t negotiate the sharp turn into the bathroom very well, and he slammed into the door awkwardly and then splashed into the tub, soaking me after I’d just finished drying off.
    › Oh, this is going to be great! I can tell I’m going to like this man already. He had to have been a genius with a name like that. Was he a genius? ‹
    » Yes, he was. «
    › I knew it! I have an instinct for that kind of thing. But I hope this story doesn’t end with him chopped into bits and sprinkled on a salad. That would be tragic, and a story about bacon should be uplifting. ‹
    » Well, Francis Bacon was quite inspirational to many people, « I said, pouring water on Oberon’s back. » He’s the father of modern empiricism, or the scientific method. Before he came along, people conducted all their arguments through a series of logical fallacies or simply shouting louder than the other guy, or, if they did use facts, they only selected ones that reinforced their prejudices and advanced their agenda. «
    › Don’t people still do that? ‹
    » More than ever. But Bacon showed us a way to shed preconceived notions and conduct experiments in such a way that the results were verifiable and repeatable. It gave people a way to construct truths free of political and religious dogma. «
    › Bacon is the Way and the Truth. Got it. ‹
    As I shampooed Oberon’s coat, I explained how to craft hypotheses and test them empirically using a control. And then I stressed safety while I rinsed him off.
    » It’s best not to experiment on yourself. Bacon practically froze himself to death in one of his experiments and died of pneumonia. «
    › Right! Bacon must be heated. Knew that already, but thanks for the reminder. ‹
    I love my hound.

Chapter 3
    I have a thing for breakfast. Thing is a word I usually frown upon; I consider it a crutch for the chronically confused, a signal flag that says I don’t know what I’m talking about , and, as such, I studiously avoid it, like cheerleaders avoid the chess team. But in this case I feel justified in using it, because there isn’t a precise word in English to convey the character of my feelings. I suppose I could say that I regard breakfast with a certain asexual affection, a gustatory relish that’s a bit beyond yearning yet well short of pining—or some other verbal brain-fondle that penny-a-page hacks like Charles Dickens used to take delight in crafting—but no one talks or thinks like that anymore. It’s far faster and simpler to say I have a thing for breakfast (or eighties’ arena rock, or classic cars, or whatever), and people know what I mean.
    Oberon shares my thing for breakfast, because in his mind it equals hot, greasy meat of some kind. The culinary art of the omelet is lost on him—as is the sublime pleasure of parsley potatoes or a cup of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Regardless, when we wakey-wakey, we always make time for eggs and bakey.
    › Oh, great big bears, ‹ Oberon said, yawning and stretching out his back legs at the same time. › I’m going to need half a yak and an industrial winch to keep my eyes open this morning. ‹
    Where am I going to find half a yak?
    › Duh. Attached to the other half. Hound 1, Druid 0. ‹
    Oh, you want to keep score today? I’m going to win this time .
    › Never let go of your dreams, Atticus. ‹
    Tuba City—alas!—doesn’t have a wide variety of places to eat. There are some chain restaurants peddling fast food, and then there’s Kate’s Café. The locals eat there, so that’s where we went after we collected Granuaile from her