Downward Spiral
TarPuppy paced in the house, waiting for the beehive to be removed. He was feeling feverish and had gibbered to the servicemen unintelligibly when they had asked him to show them where he had found the hive. He was shaking and was having difficulty organizing his thoughts. He wanted to pour himself a glass of water – a simple task — but would always find his hand empty as he came to, standing motionless over the sink.
There was something deeply wrong with him, but he could not articulate his feelings in a way that his own brain would understand. Then, he saw something on the tiles that pushed him right over the edge.