44 THE NEW BARKER
I have a cat named Grimm. He was aban-
doned in Philadelphia by his former person,
who turned him out when her landlord
found out she had a cat. My daughter rescued
him and brought him to us. Grimm spent the
first week or so under the bed, slowly came
out, and then discovered the sink. He now has
one overriding goal in life: sink water.
I decided to keep a count of how much
water Grimm demanded and how often I
obliged. Some people keep a fitness or calorie
journal. I kept a tab open on my phone for
Grimm’s water requests. The result? In 2025
alone, Grimm asked for water 2,361 times.
And yes — I turned on the faucet 2,361
times. (Rescuers, you need not worry. His
kidneys are fine; he’s been given a clean bill of
health. Grimm is merely a hydration enthusi-
ast, the feline equivalent of a GenZer lugging
around an oversized water bottle.)
Like Adam and Chubbles, his brothers,
Grimm has a perfectly good water bowl. It’s
pretty (gold in the winter and a blue ceramic
to keep the water cool in the summer). It is
washed daily. The water is always fresh. But to
Grimm, this bowl is merely decorative. The
only acceptable form of drinking water is
running water from the sink.
Morning, noon, night: If he so much as
suspects there is a drop of H2O waiting to
run, he will find you. And he will ask. And the
sinks must vary. Sometimes he wants kitchen
sink water. Sometimes he wants bathroom
sink water. Sometimes he wants water from a
different bathroom sink. 2,361 times. I am the
human embodiment of a water pump.
While tracking Grimm’s faucet requests, I
also kept a few other statistics, like the litter
box — a duty we all know intimately in the
rescue world. In 2025, I scooped the litter box
2,571 times. That’s a lot of scooping.
I realize that an article about 2,361 drinks
from the sink and 2,571 scoops of a litter box
is somewhat odd. But for those of us who’ve
worked in shelters or do rescue, those num-
bers speak of care and the tiny lives entrusted
to us. They tell us to wake up early, go to bed
late, and do the work because someone has to.
And they remind us that acquiescing to little
absurdities is important because animals find
comfort in routines. Besides, little things make
big memories. Years from now, I might not
recall a lot, but I will remember Grimm and
his insatiable need to have water cascade off
his face and down the drain.
To the people reading this — who spend
days filling water bowls, scooping litter, clean-
ing runs, comforting frightened animals,
walking dogs, racing to the emergency vet,
advocating for a more compassionate world,
and turning bathrooms and spare rooms into
rehab facilities — you know the work we do
is very serious. We deal with heartbreaking
cruelty, neglect, and loss.
Yet on any given day, we also witness pro-
found joy: that first purr, the first time the tail
comes out from under the dog and wags, the
slow build-up of trust from an animal who’s
finally safe and no longer ducks his head
when you go to pet him, and the bittersweet
relief of finding a loving home or release back
to the wild. It’s important to take moments
like these and let them remind us of why we
do this work.
So to all who open their hearts and
homes to animals in need, here’s to another
day of cleaning messes, offering sips of water,
and the steady – drip, drip, drip, scoop, scoop,
scoop – rhythm of care.
The Rhythm of Care
by Nathan Winograd
By the Way
Keeping Grimm hydrated, the litter
box clean, advocating for humane
policies, and
nurturing all
the animals
we rescued
and found
homes for
can take its
toll. In 2025,
I was fueled
by 1,804
shots of
espresso, 218 cocktails, 747 kisses from
my wife, and one championship ring
in my softball league. ––Nathan
U
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