It all started in November, when Beagle Man got his new Cherokee. At
the same time, he bought the “unlimited” pass at Fred’s. Now we go there at least once a week — sometimes more. And it’s terrifying! I can’t tell you exactly why we go to this house of horrors, but I can tell you exactly what goes on there. For starters, scary men with big long sticks sponge the outside of the car. Then a bunch of lights — red! blue! — flash on and off. Next, it starts raining soapy water, and I mean pouring! Then the car gets spanked, over and over — on the doors, the hood, the roof — by these gruesome long, blue, spiky, rubbery tentacles. Next, there’s a super-loud sound, like thunder, or maybe even a 
hurricane, and all that water gets sucked — whoosh! — off the car. Spooky. The first time we went through Fred’s, I made a mad dash for cover — first, to the front seat, then down deep in the foot-room well — and I shut my eyes tight. Beagle Man tried to calm
me down with his “it’s-okay”s and “no-problem”s and “we’ll-be-done-in-a-minute”s — but no way was I leaving my safe spot. I figured those tentacles couldn’t find me there. When I finally opened my eyes, we’d escaped. Later on I heard that Beagle Man took Ricky the Beagle through Fred’s once . . . and never again. That’s how bad the poor little guy freaked out. But me, he took back. Told me I’d get used to it. And actually, I did. Okay, so he was right. But the car looks exactly the same to me when it comes out as it did when it went in, so I still don’t get the point.
Beagle Man always has a lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.