Bea remembered why Bears are able to catch fish; they like to splash in water. But cats? She did not remember ever seeing any cat splashing in water, as much as they love the "be good to themselves" treat -- fish. So she knew what she would do to stop that mean cat in his wet tracks. Every time that he came by to bother Scruffles she would throw a pot of -- certainly not honey -- but water, on him. With excitement and hopes that her plan would work, she gathered her empty honeypots, filled them with water, and placed them in a get ready spot.

Every time Scruffles was sunning himself, she would stand by, doing her on guard exercise, holding her wee bear breath, watching and waiting for Sam to show his sinister Siamese self. After several minutes had passed and no Sam, Bea realized she hadn't taken a breath and that she needed to remember to be alert but relaxed.

She was ready with a filled pot when a slinking shadow caught her cautious eye. She splashed him full force with the first of many pots lined up in a row. Boy, did he tear out of there in a big hurry. She thought that was the end of it, surely. Now she could really relax and Scruffles could return to doing one of the things he did best, laying in the sun.

She couldn't believe her wee bear eyes, which got very big, when she saw the stunned or just stubborn Siamese standing right over Scruffles. This time, her throw got Scruffles a little wet, but sent that rambunctious cat back under his porch. Bea later found out the Scruffles loved water. He was not afraid to stand over a slightly frozen puddle and attempt to crack it open to get to the water. He would be so focused on this exercise that he didn't seem to care if he became covered with about a half an inch of snow.

Bea, now a little skeptical at the results of a cat being splashed with water, needed to make sure that Sam was back where he belonged. When she found him lying so innocently at rest, she felt reassured and headed back to enjoy the sun with Scruffles. It didn't take long for her to discover a new exercise, not rigorous strolling, but very rigorous running for your life.

She felt a hot little breath on the back of her legs. Ever so slowly peeking around, she saw Sam about to nip at her wee bear heels with those very sharp pointy teeth of his. Swiftly skittering to safety, she began to do her brain exercise. Once again, she had come upon a problem too big for her to handle alone.