COLUMBUS _ We weren’t expecting Uncle Chet this morning, but he and Alice walked in as we were eating breakfast.

``We’ve got no water,’’ he announced. ``I think the pump is shot.’’

``Sorry to barge in like this,’’ Alice said, ``but I was wondering if I could take a shower. I have to go to the airport in Syracuse to pick up my boys.’’

``Help yourself,’’ said Hon. ``Want a cup of coffee first?’’

``No, thanks. If I hurry, I’ve just enough time.’’

``And you can drive me home,’’ Uncle Chet said to me. "Then we’ll figure out what’s wrong with the pump.’’

``I’ll drive you home, but I think you need a plumber,’’ I said as Alice disappeared behind a door.

``Probably an electrician, with your funky wiring,’’ said Hon, who knows her way around the breaker box.

``I want to go and see the kittens,’’ said Buddy.

``Me, too, and we can go shopping in Norwich on the way home,’’ said the little miscreant, who’d finished her pancakes and was cleaning up the syrup with a spoon.

``Norwich is not on the way home,’’ I informed her. ``It’s a 10-mile detour.’’

``Dad has to paint today,’’ said Hon, who had cooked for everyone and was the only one still eating.

``I’ll help you paint,’’ said Uncle Chet. ``And you take a look at the well.’’

``I’ll look, but it probably is electrical trouble, and for that we need an expert.’’ I glanced across the table.

``We’ll all go,’’ said Hon, ``but not till I have a second cup of coffee.’’

The kids took this as a cue to move from the table to the couch, but I told our 13-year-old to do the dishes.

``All by myself?’’ she asked plaintively.

``We’ll all help. You load the dishwasher; Buddy, you put things away, and I’ll feed the dog.’’

At the mention of this three-letter word, our springer’s bobbed tail activated. I emptied the water from her dish, got out the big bag of food.

``Wait a minute!’’ Uncle Chet stood up, coffee cup in hand.

``What’s the matter?’’

`Are you going to feed her that Chinese rat poison?’’ he demanded.

``That’s only the wet food,’’ I said. ``I haven’t heard anything about dry dog food.’’

``What makes you think the dry food is any better than the wet?’’ he said. ``What if you heard that so-and-so’s hamburger was full of rat poison. Would you go buy their steak?’’

``No!’’ our young dishwasher said emphatically and rushed to the dog’s side.

``I guess not,’’ I conceded, standing there, holding the bag.

``Is that poison?’’ asked Buddy.

``I don’t think so,’’ I said. ``She’s eaten half the bag, and look at her,’’ which we all did, ``she seems fine.’’

``Well, let’s see what’s in here,’’ said Uncle Chet, taking the bag. He reached inside and took out a few small brown pellets.

``Looks like Cocoa Puffs,’’ I said.

``Looks like doe scat,’’ he said, and Hon choked, "Must you?’’

Uncle Chet tipped his head back to read the label through bifocals. ``It says: chicken, cornmeal, ground sorghum, chicken byproduct, chicken fat, then a bunch of chemicals.’’

``Yummy,’’ I said.

``But it doesn’t say what the chicken died of, though you can be sure they didn’t buy it at Price Chopper. It doesn’t say what the corn was sprayed with. And just what is chicken byproduct? Feathers and bones?’’ he asked. ``The fact is you can’t tell much from reading that label.’’

The dog was looking at me anxiously, wondering what the hold-up was.

``Tell you what,’’ he said. ``Give her half her usual breakfast, and get me another dish.’’

I poured out a half cup of dog food, found him an old Tupperware bowl, which he took to the stove.

He scraped the remains of Buddy’s scrambled egg out of one skillet and scraped little bits of pancake and some oil from the other.

``What’s old in the fridge?’’ he asked.

``A slice of pizza from Thursday night,’’ said Hon, and got it for him.

He broke it into pieces, topped his offering with the little bit of milk Buddy hadn’t finished and placed the bowls on the floor a few feet apart.

``OK,’’ I said, releasing Daisy, and with no hesitation, she dove into the table scraps.

``Of course, we don’t know what’s in human food anymore, thanks to globalization and a politicized FDA,’’ said Uncle Chet. ``But I see your dog is giving it a vote of confidence.’’

___

Cooperstown News Bureau Reporter Tom Grace is traveling with his Uncle Chet, who he says is imaginary. Grace’s column appears twice monthly.