Rachel E. Watson

Admiral Cooley struggles with incontinence.

We discovered his leaky bladder when it stormed heavily one night, and he popped his cork as the rain poured down. My husband noticed the puddle in the morning and cleaned him up, but, still, he looked a little embarrassed.

Now, we make sure to keep a tray under his resting spot each night. I’ve also spread out trash bags on the floor to catch possible overflow.

In the absence of other house guests or children, the only ones who would notice his trouble during the night are our cats, and they won’t tell. I can’t help noticing, though, that his normally pale face looks a little pink each morning after a hard rain. I’m guessing he knows he wasn’t built for this, and his instincts tell him to pretend like nothing is wrong. He’s not very good at pretending.

We brought the Admiral home about a month ago. There was something missing before that, a gap in the home, you know? We measured every space to make sure we’d have room for him and his luggage. Only the irresponsible would leap into such a hefty commitment without counting the cost. My husband found a calculator online that crunched every number before we decided to extend the invitation.

When we introduced him to our friends, the chemistry was immediate. At first, there was some confusion about why he lacked a mustache, but I quickly dismissed it as teasing and bought him a fake one to wear to parties. In retrospect, I wonder if the jokes wounded him more than he let on.

On the up side, the Admiral is stellar in the productivity department. When I step into a room after he’s been working, it’s like a completely different place. I guess you could call that a gift.

Who or what is the Admiral?