Gunther nodded at his reflection in approval. “A finely shaped beard reveals a finely tuned mind,” he recited. The scissors were replaced in their leather holder alongside the fine comb, tweezers, and other grooming accoutrements.

He padded into the kitchen, fetched a glass, and opened the ice box.

“What say you, Henry?” queried Gunther as he poured himself some buttermilk.

Henry was at his bowl beside the ice box, looking up from it expectant as always.

“Why, thank you!” replied Gunther on the dog’s behalf. “Good for the digestion, don’t you know.” He splashed a good amount in the bowl and Henry took to it immediately.

“So true, that,” Gunther remarked. He replaced the pitcher and drank his share.

Gunther spent a moment to wash the glass and return it to the cupboard. Then another to wash Henry’s bowl and return it to the floor. Henry was already asleep.

Gunther padded back to his bed and settled himself in. With one last stroke of his beard, he let his hand rest on his chin and drifted off…