#the infection was so big it was literally coming out from between his paws

[vettelcore]

the urge to tell this fucking piece of shit that just came with his dog to leave immediately and let me keep that poor baby was so strong i could hardly contain myself

[sedge-and-sanctuary]

Sanctuary Pack Stories: The Loner

A story from year seven. After being scattered in the escape from human hunters, the pack is finally ready to go back home. Chicory is reunited with a figure from her past.

"And she still had the gun- I guess I was pretty worried about that- but Uno had the idea to--"

Chicory raises her muzzle, cutting Verand short. "You're limping again."

And Verand's head hunches into an expression so obviously and immediately guilty that Chicory has to bite back a laugh, fighting to keep her face stern. "I've been doing the stretches you told me, you can ask Kit--"

"Like he'd tell me the truth." Chicory snorts. "Slow down-- you don't need to go leaping ten strides ahead. The pack'll hardly leave without us."

"But--" Verand blows out a sigh. "They're just ahead, Chicory. And I swear it isn't sore at all!" She lifts the bad leg to demonstrate, stretching it out ahead in an exaggerated step.

"Hm," Chicory says.

This time, she has to hide a frown.

Verand's range of motion is pretty bad; no sign of stiffness or pain in her body language, but she can't get the leg very high off the ground. Probably she'll be limping on it the rest of her life.

"Fine. Go on then."

And Verand straightens at once, surprise and delight all over her face her face, open and obvious as tansy in bloom.

"It's this way!" She calls, already disappearing through the trees. Her tail wags behind her like a flag, waving them on.

She's a good kid. And she'll be struggling with that leg the rest of her life. Because Chicory hadn't kept her back when she should have. Because she hadn’t been nearly the doctor she should have been.

Probably get worse when she's older, too, she thinks, bitter, and pads on after Verand.

The Sanctuary Pack has been almost a year without a home, scattered wide across unfamiliar territory, fleeing for their lives through baking summer, muddy fall, bitter winter.

And now the spring unfurls before them, thin and cold, with snow still clinging stubborn in the shade.

So their territory is safe again. So they'll all be reunited. So she'll see Radun, again.

Chicory snorts. Looks up. The sky, a chilly dove's-wing gray, is threatening rain.

And wouldn't that be just her luck.

"Verand!"

A voice through the trees- high and clear, Chicory can't quite place it- and Verand, ahead of her, gives a joyful bark and bounds forward, oblivious to Chicory's censure.

She hurtles into a dark, slim wolf- Uno, it must be- and the two go rolling head-over-hocks through the muddy undergrowth, tails wagging fit to stir up a storm.

The wind, shifting, carries the mingled scents of many wolves towards them; the pack, at last.

Chicory lifts her nose, testing the air; no hint of sickness she can detect. No stink of infection, no rotting sweetness.

"Chicory." A low voice-- she turns, and Kit- a big, square young wolf- pads up to stand beside her.

"Yes?"

"Is everyone... alright? In your group?" Something hangs a little sad and serious hanging around his eyes, the way mist will cling to water.

"They'll take some feeding up." Chicory shrugs. "But well enough, I guess. Considering."

"That's good." His eyes keep sliding away from Chicory's, watching his friends play sidelong, so obviously hangdog it's nearly literal, his head drooping low.

Chicory softens- just a little, mind you- and gestures towards Verand and Uno. "Pull those two wolverines apart, would you? I'm sure I can find my own way."

He doesn't need much more convincing. As Chicory walks on, his voice joins theirs; a low and rumbling counterpoint, and warm as the thaw.

Chicory fluffs her fur against the wind, scowling. If the thaw ever comes.

She picks her way onwards, cold mud squelching unpleasantly between her toes.

Is thinking, they better have picked a drier spot to camp, when she comes through a break in the trees, and there is all of Sanctuary, gathered up and waiting.

Finch is fussing over the pups, Maize laid out in a sunbeam watching him, panting a little in that wheezy, painful way- can't Eight look after her patients when Chicory isn't around?- and a couple of scouts are straggling in: Dace and Rover, muddy but apparently satisfied.

Rover splits off immediately, to look for Seven, the two old wolves gray around their muzzles, speaking too low for Chicory to hear above the general babble of voices, and Chicory watches them-- watches all of them-- and feels some foolish, unwanted warmth bubbling up like water in a hot spring, something nearly scalding, too strong, too hot to hold in her, too much--

And there is Radun, too, looking up, the first wolf out of all of them to notice Chicory standing there.

And she is just-- standing there. Rooted to the spot by that wave of feeling, blindsided, just by seeing all of them, together and safe again. She’s going soft, probably. Can’t bring herself to care too much.

So she only stands and watches as Radun gets up, and walks across the clearing to greet her.

"Chicory. You look very well." Her voice musical and strangely deep, that odd formality. When she dips her head, low, in greeting, even their poor thin sun cannot help but catch the highlights of her rich, golden fur.

Chicory clears her throat, and clears it again. "You too," she says, stiff. "It's-- good to see you again. Been a while."

Radun straightens. "It has." A pause. "Is Verand--"

Of course-- that's why she'd come up to say hello. Chicory shakes herself, feeling foolish.

"Right behind me. Got caught up with Kit and Uno."

"I see." A pause. Radun shifts from paw to paw, evidently restless. "And is she--"

"She's alright. Favouring the leg a little, is all." I wish I had better news to give you.

"Good. That's good to hear." She clears her throat. Looks over Chicory's shoulder, something stiff in her face, her posture. "I-- thank you very much for indulging my worry. It means a great deal."

"Not a problem." Chicory fights back the horrible honeycomb-feeling bubbling up in her chest, airy and stinging and sweet at her words.

She's only being polite, she's always polite.

They hesitate for another moment, Radun still not quite meeting Chicory's eyes. Watching for her sister, probably, but too polite to go.

"I should go check in with Dace," Chicory should say. Give her an excuse.

Says, instead, "how've you been keeping, then?"

And Radun looks up, almost startled, right at Chicory, at last, something deep and warm in her tawny eyes, something almost…

"I've been well," she says, "very well, under the circumstances. Thank you. I--"

And Chicory looks away, unable to bear it, looks past Radun's shoulder just to-- settle her nerves, her damn idiot nerves, getting excited over nothing--

And all the heat goes out of the world, just like that. Like the sun's been swallowed up, like the seasons are turning backwards.

Eight is chatting with a patient, in the shadow of an oak; she hadn't seen them, when she'd first arrived, tucked away in the shade. And her patient-- a newcomer. Not of The Pack-- a gray wolf, huge out of all proportion, built broad and strong, and his eyes glitter with a sort of watchful, foxlike intelligence.

Chicory knows him, immediately.

Something must show on her face-- Radun ducks her head again. "My apologies. I've taken up too much of your time."

"No," Chicory starts to say, don't worry about it, no, you haven't, but she's turning already, and leaving Chicory with--

With him.

Jumps For Clouds watches Radun as she passes. Looks back along her path to spot Chicory, and the thoughts flicker, visibly, across his narrow face; surprise, at first, with understanding coming snapping at its heels.

He turns, and says something in Eight's ear. She looks up, surprised.

Together, they get up, and start towards her.

Chicory skirts the edge of the camp to meet them. Wants this conversation happening as far from the rest of the pack as possible. If her secrets must come out-- well. She supposes they'll all learn of it, eventually. Probably foolish, trying to draw it out.

She ducks her head away, as Eight and Jumper get near, some great weight pulling her down towards the earth.

"Chicory!" Eight says, "I'm glad to see you back. This is--"

"Jumps For Clouds," Jumper says, smoothly. "But you can call me Jumper. A pleasure."

Chicory looks up, slowly. "--Chicory," she says. "It's-- nice to meet you."

He nods, amiably, face open and friendly. "Now-- I understand you're this pack's other healer?"

"I am." No sense denying it. But telling him anything makes Chicory's fur itch. He remembers her-- he must remember her. He's just got some... angle, is what it is.

He'd always had some sort of angle.

"I thought so. You know, you just seem like a healer to me. Even kinda look like one I used to know."

"I guess there's sort of a-- common look," Eight offers, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice.

"Sure," Chicory says, stiff. "It's the hunchback."

Jumper laughs, over-loud. "Well, see, I knew someone in this pack had to have a sense of humour! Listen--" he turns to Eight, apologetic. "Listen, do you mind if I have her take a look? I really do feel--"

Eight stiffens, a little, but nods. "It can never hurt to get a second opinion."

"I thank you." Jumper dips his head. "Listen- Chicory, was it? Chicory, I swear I'm feeling under the weather, but the lovely miss Eight here says she can't find anything wrong. Would you mind..."

"Of course not." The words are stiff in her mouth, bitter. "Eight, I can take it from here."

Eight hesitates, frowning. "Are you sure? I have his history, I can--"

"I can ask him." Chicory looks over her shoulder-- back towards Dace, settling down to a meal. "I'm sure you've got other things to do."

Eight follows her eyes, visibly brightens. "Well," she says, with badly-feigned reluctance."If you're really sure--"

And at Chicory's nod, she sets off towards Dace at a barely-restrained trot, affection coming off her so palpable you could nearly see it.

Chicory watches her go, a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Well, who'd've thought you'd learn to manage people," Jumper says, voice light. "Wasn't the most subtle job I've ever seen, but--"

Chicory looks at him. "Jumper."

He tips his head in greeting. "Chews on Chicory," he says. "Fancy finding you here." Something thoughtful in his tone.

"What do you want?"

"Want?" He looks hurt. "Shelter, Chicory, a little help! You know, my own pack's fallen to war. Horrible tragedy."

"It has?" Chicory blinks. So the Pack At High Mountain was gone. "I had no idea--"

"Oh,” Jumper says, smooth as ice. “ I think you had some.”

Chicory looks at him. Feels a sort of frost creeping over her, inexorable, cold vertebrae-by-vertebrae along her spine.

"Of course," he goes on, "I might be mistaken. A common look, right? I might never have met you at all, before today."

Chicory doesn't respond. Doesn't know how to.

The pack had fallen-- how many wolves lost to the fighting, then? How many that she might have saved, if she were there?

"Listen, all I'm asking is a little-- a little healing. Your hunter, Rime, she wants me out with her team, but I'm sure I'm feeling under the weather. I should be getting my beauty rest, not getting myself all-- worn out and cut up hunting. Wouldn't you agree?"

Chicory meets his eyes, for a long moment. A more evidently strong, healthy young wolf she's never seen.

As if from an enormous distance, the warm, familiar sounds of the pack filter towards them-- the excited chatter of the puppies, the easy ribbing of a group of hunters setting out. How long has she been with this pack-- two years, three?

Good years-- good wolves.

"I just need the good opinion of a healer," Jumper says. "That's all."

Chicory ducks her head, guilt in her heavy as a stone.

"Of course," she says, at last. "Come with me."

[goldenchildkatsuki]

WHITE FENCE, PURPLE ROOM

Kacchako Positivity Week Day 6: Ten Years Later

Summary: An epilogue of some sorts of 'Red bike, purple Bellflower' and 'White sand, blue ribbon'.

Writers note: I'm sorry but I can't give this universe a rest. I love writing the two of them in this environment and I would be lying if I didn't think about going further than this for a second but I think I'm going to leave it here. I have a lot of ideas for further chapters I think you can call it at this point, but this feels like a good note to end things on.

I recommend listening to the song: "Mothers" by Daughter.

Here's my contribution for the last day, day 6 of the Kacchako Positivity Week. It has been a lot of fun writing all these pieces and looking at all the pieces that other people made. They were all so good!

Thank you, Maddie [@quirk-y ] for organizing KPW and all the effort you put into it.

(see the end for notes)

Word count: 7.889 

AO3 link: (x)

Ochako sighed and jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter. "I don't see how that would hurt him."

"I understand, I don't think it's a big fucking deal either but we don't have a say in this."

Katsuki held up a bowl of blueberries and she nodded at it. He added it among other bowls of fruit on the counter and turned to the stove to add milk to a pot. Ochako watched him stir the contents in the pot in silence. She knew he wanted to put a hold on the argument, and all honesty, she did too. But she couldn't help herself and speak out on it.

"Maybe we do have a say in this. I feel like we're in a position to at least speak up on it," Ochako continued to argue.

Katsuki continued to stay silent and kept stirring the oatmeal. She watched him with arched eyebrows, finished preparing the meal and scooping it out of the pot into two bowls. He decorated the bowls of oatmeal with their favored fruits and then added two spoons. He took his breakfast and put his back against the fridge opposite Ochako.

He had gotten angry a couple of times before when Ochako kept on bringing up the same matters that he was convinced should not be discussed. She expected him to react the same after staying for silent for so long. Instead, he looked somber as he stirred the spoon through his oatmeal.

"Listen, Ochako. I think it's about time I say this," he began.

Ochako frowned as she blew onto her spoon full.

"Reiji is not our kid. If his parents don't want him to be anywhere near ice cream than we should respect that. We have no right to get involved with how his parents choose to raise him. Even though we have been there for him more than they have. Since the beginning, I told myself not to get too attached to him and you told me you had would do the same."  

She knew that this subject was going to be brought up eventually. Her own words continued to replay itself over and over in her head whenever the neighbor's son was at their house. A warning she gave herself and was determined to listen to became nothing but a bit of background noise in her head whenever she was around the six-year-old.

Katsuki exhaled deeply before he continued speaking. "I know it's hard, I know. But we save ourselves a lot of fucking heartache if we don't get too close to him."

The first emotion that sparked in Ochako was anger. His kind words were like gasoline to a smoldering fire and awakened something ugly inside of her, having an opposing effect to Katsuki's intention. Feelings of jealousy and unfairness molted together in white rage that she had to try desperately hard to contain inside of her. Despite how it made her feel, her husband was right. He had told her seconds ago that she once agreed with him and she would've been a fool to ignore the fact that she had been getting extremely attached to Reiji.

But couldn't he cut her some slack? Couldn't the world cut her some slack?

What if she didn't mind the heartache? What if she thought it was worth it? If she could love a child like it was her own, give them all the love they deserve, then she was sure that the satisfaction she would get from that could eventually heal any scar on the heart.

Ochako had been silent for some time. She knew it was starting to scare Katsuki but if she would open her mouth now she would say something she would regret. And frankly, she didn't have the energy to pretend everything was fine until Reiji had gone back to his home and mend things with him.

"You know I'm always on your team Ochako, but it had to be said. We'll give the topic a rest though since I can't afford you to get overwhelmed."

He pointed at her bowl with his spoon.

"Speaking of, can you at least try to finish your breakfast?"

Ochako's mouth set in a hard line. Sometimes it really didn't feel like they were on the same team. But Katsuki always proved to be in the end. In the end, he always cared for her, more than she could ask for him. Almost quite literally.

For almost a couple of weeks now Ochako had been infected by something that seemed to be like a summer flu. It was so typical for her to catch a cold during the summer. She described it as a cold, however, it had been holding her down more than a cold should and lasting longer than anyone would like it to last. But since it was something she never had before her immune system had to try it's hardest to fight the infection off. Katsuki however, had been getting more worried by the days and treating her like she had already hospitalized. Offering to do anything that required the slightest bit of energy and creating insanely nasty medicinal dishes and drinks to improve her health.

The man could easily replace his apron for a lab coat since every time he went into the kitchen it seemed like a mad professor performing some kind of experiment. The intentions were right but she didn't know how many mysterious servings she could take.

"This tastes like wet woodchips." Uraraka scrunched up her nose as she poked the tip of her tongue in the thick substance.

Bakugou played around with a piece of banana and frowned at his breakfast. "It's gluten free, what did you expect? But that's all we had since Reiji started coming over and I need to you to hold up until we can go to the doctors."

When the pair moved from the city to their small dream town they expected to only come across the benefits. Their expectations were met for the most part but unlike people that have lived in the town their whole lives they weren't used to almost every shop being closed on Sunday's or not being able to reach the town doctors during the weekends. It could be quite irritable, especially at times like these.

"We could just drive to the city, honey," Ochako muttered after attempting another few bites to then putting her bowl down next to her.

"And get you checked out by some person that isn't familiar with your body at all? No fucking way."

Katsuki emptied his oatmeal in the trash, chucked his spoon in the sink and shuddered at the aftertaste. Ochako sighed in relief and did the same. If she had forced herself to eat anymore she probably would have to make a run for the toilet.

Ochako slid herself off the counter and then perked up at the sound of the nails scratching the wooden floors. Soon after she heard barking come from the living room.

"Danuja!" Katsuki yelled and he stomped past her to the living room.

Before his feet, the dog slid across the floorboards and to the front door. There she trickled from one paw to another, looking like she was dancing and loudly barked looking up at the window in the door. Ochako came out of the kitchen and held back the overly excited rottweiler puppy with her leg as Katsuki opened the door.

He greeted the man and woman standing on the porch with a simple nod to then quickly squat down on to reach the eye level of the boy standing in between them. He fist bumped the child and took time to ask how he was doing. If he tried out his new pencils yet and if he had already drawn something with them. Reiji happily revealed the pencils and the notebook he had hidden behind his back and Katsuki pretended to be taken aback.

Ochako enjoyed seeing the two interact, she could genuinely watch them together for hours on end but someone had to attend to the parents, especially since they looked like they were eager to leave. The woman already stood a little further back than her husband, clinging onto his arm as she stared frightened at the little dog behind Uraraka's legs.

"Ochako, Katsuki! We couldn't thank you enough for being able to look after Reiji so last minute." Reiji's father began as Ochako met his eyes.

"This award at the country club is quite a big deal you see, we could not let this slide!" The woman added as she kept clinging to her husband's arm.

"Sounds…Amazing!"

Ochako found it harder with every conversation to stay civil with the two. Every time they interacted she came to realize how they would never truly click because their personalities and ideals were simply worlds apart.

The woman clapped her hands together. "You two should definitely come to the club with us one time!"

"Who would watch Reiji, then?" Katsuki mixed into the conversation. Ochako doubted that they noticed but to her, it was obvious that her husband was struggling with the same thing but unlike her, he was losing patience with the pair fast.

The parents busted out in obnoxious laughter and the man ruffled his son's hair.

"Ah, of course, of course! Like we said, couldn't thank you two enough!"

Danuja started barking at the laughter and Uraraka couldn't thank the dog enough because it made the woman jolt and drag her husband off the porch.

"A-alright then!" she squealed. "See you in the afternoon, Munchkin! Oh and Ochako, can you please keep that dog off the lawn? We've just planted some new flowers, would be a shame if he ruined it!"

Ochako waved the couple goodbye, "she will stay off your lawn, don't worry!"

She watched the two climb in their old timer and drive out of the street. A loud exhale left her body and she glanced at Reiji who luckily didn't seem to have taken note of the tension between the pair of adults. The boy just kept showing Bakugou what he had already drawn and pointed out what he liked the most about his work. Ochako compassionately laid a hand on his cheek, pinched it and let the boy in. She hadn't even closed the door yet or Dunaja zoomed between her legs and skipped over to Reiji. She jumped up at him, only reaching his knees and wagged her little tale as the boy give her the attention she wanted.

The dog managed to get Reiji on the floor and he cradled her in his lap, licking his face completely wet while he continued. Licked his face completely wet whilst Reiji continued to pet her and scratch her behind the ears.

"Ah ‘Nuja!" The child chirped between the dog's licks.

When the kid could barely get his words out Katsuki picked the Rottweiler up and held her under his arm.

"I swear she likes you more than she likes her owners, kiddo." Katsuki furrowed his brow as he looked at the heavily panting dog. "We're the ones feeding you as well," he mumbled.

Katsuki carried her into the living room and Ochako waited for Reiji to take off his shoes in the hall. He tugged off his little fancy shoes and let out a sigh of relief when he could finally stretch his toes. Ochako lent him her hand and helped him up. Reiji dusted off the dog hairs of his clothes and picked up his notebook and pencils.

"You've already drawn so much since the last time I saw you!"

Reiji flipped through his book again and showed Ochako what he had shown Katsuki minutes ago. He continued to explain the same exact same thing and she pretended she hadn't heard it before.

They started walking to the living room and saw Katsuki sitting on the couch with Danuja jumping against his chest. He pointed out the window.

"What's with the bike? Why is it laying against the fence?" Katsuki asked.

Reiji ran up to the couch and jumped on it next to him. He hung over the couch, pointing along with Katsuki.

"I was going to tell you!"

He turned to Katsuki and started blushing. "The bike is broken…I think. It makes a weird noise, the standard doesn't work and think one of the brakes doesn't work either."

The man sat up and looked from the kid to the bike and then back to the kid.

"How did you manage to do that?"

Reiji got even more flustered and started picking at the buttons of his shirt.

"I, erm, I tried to ride the bike without hands, like you said you used to do Mr. Bakugou. I thought I could do it but then I fell."

Ochako and Katsuki shared a look with each other. She crossed her arms and leaned against a chair.

"Is that so?" She kept glaring at her husband.

"I fell hard," Reiji raised his arms and showed his elbows that had more than one plaster on them and Katsuki hissed at the sight.

Ochako knew something like this was bound to happen soon. When Katsuki decided to give Reiji his first bike he couldn't give it without telling the stories that came with it. The afternoon he handed Reiji the bike they had sat on the front porch for hours. Bakugou told him everything from the moment he got his first bike to when he had to leave his bike behind since he could at one point drive everywhere he needed to go. Ochako sat on the swing on the porch and listened to every single story as if it was the first time hearing them and as if she wasn't there for most of the stories.

Katsuki mentioned skidding, leaning back so far he would be riding on one wheel, swerving on the roads to pester Ochako and of course -- riding his bike without hands. The more excited Reiji got the more excited the man himself got. Ochako tried to signal to him that he should maybe calm down a little but Katsuki was so engulfed in his storytelling he didn't notice her.

And now the inevitable happened. Ochako cringed at the thought of what Reiji's parents must've thought when he came back with his elbows scraped open and a broken bike. Knowing Reiji he probably knew how his parents would've reacted if he told the truth about what caused the fall and probably kept it hidden from them. Ochako's face softened at the thought.

"Oh Rei, well, that must've been a nasty fall but now you will remember to keep both hands on the handlebars," the woman tried to scold the boy.

"Or you can just get someone to sit on the back and yell ‘Two hands please!' every time you do so," Katsuki shrugged.

Ochako covered her mouth to not show the boys her smile.

"I'll fix the bike for you. Though it sounds like it probably needs more parts than what I have in the garage."

He looked down at Danuja who was still desperately trying to get his attention.

"I'll go and get them whilst I take this one on a walk. She has too much energy to be in the house right now." Katsuki put the dog on the floor and groaned as he stood up.

He couldn't even set a couple of steps without almost stepping on the dog who was somehow able to be more energized after she heard the word ‘walk'. Reiji followed Katsuki and tugged at his shirt before he disappeared into the hallway.

"Can I come?" He asked enthusiastically.

Katsuki was hesitant before answering. Reiji folded his hands upon seeing the doubt in his face and tried to make the same face Danuja made whenever they were eating at the dining table.

"I'm sorry Rei, but if you're around she's not going to behave much. Besides, I need someone to be the man of the house and take care of the Mrs. when I'm gone. She's really not doing so well remember?" Katsuki brushed the curly bangs out of Reiji's eyes as he kept pouting at him.

Ochako turned to them. "You say that as if I can't do a thing myself anymore," she argued.

"Hey, I know you're a kick-ass woman but we don't know what's going on with you right now. I would rather be safe than sorry alright?" Katsuki countered, rather harsh.

Reiji looked at the two adults with a confused look on his face. The kid was probably starting to think there was something very serious going on with her.

Reiji's goldfish had actually died not too long ago and the boy had been concerned about every little thing that seemed off about the body for weeks. Just having learned about ‘death' he thought that everything that was off meant it was near. Though they had managed to talk to the kid about it and calmed him down Ochako wouldn't be surprised if Reiji was on edge again.

She chose not to go further into the discussion with Katsuki and mouthed at Reiji that it was alright.

"I-I will stay here then! I'll take care of the house and Mrs. Bakugou!" The boy straightened his stance and saluted Katsuki like a soldier would greet his commanding officer. It made the man scoff.

Katsuki went to take Danuja's leash and with a bit of struggling put it around her collar. He then took his wallet off the cabinet in the hall and turned back around to face Ochako and Reiji.

"Now take it easy alright? When I come back we're going to do something awesome."

He quickly scooted towards Ochako, put a hand on her lower back and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Promise," Katsuki said before leaving the house.

Ochako smiled when Reiji crossed his arms and looked up at her. What a determined look on his face. He was really ready to take his assigned job seriously, huh? It looked like even if she suggested an activity for them to do that required the slightest bit of energy the little guy would try everything in his power to stop her.

"Come on Shortcake, let's go and draw in the reading area. I want to see your create more future museum pieces," she told him.

Reiji's face lit up and he ran back into the living room to get his pencils and book. He then followed her and climbed the small staircase to a platform which was the reading area. He laid down on the carpet and started tearing out a piece of paper out of his notebook, handed it to Ochako and gave her one of his pencils with it.

Ochako sat in the rocking chair and started coloring along with the child. As he was perfecting one of his drawing, she was casually doodling, mostly watching over Reiji's shoulder as he scribbled in silence, gradually surrounding himself entirely with all of his pencils. After deciding that she was even uninspired to doodle, Ochako laid her pencil down and leaned back in the rocking chair.

The boy was drawing Danuja, running in what seemed to be his front lawn. She tried to hold in a snicker when she noticed. To her, it would forever be interesting to see the mind of a child at work. And especially if it was a creative one like Reiji's. It was amusing to see him think hard about which colors to use and how to draw certain shapes. To see his little hand tighten harder around his pencils the more frustrated he became. To see him come up with an idea in the first place.

She would love to see him try to paint something one day. And she wondered how he would feel about clay. Was he too young to take lessons or would it be alright? How wonderful would it be if Reiji could be surrounded by peers that shared the same hobby? If there was something like that she wouldn't hesitate to put Reiji amongst that.

If he was her actual son, that was.

The words she shared with her husband came back to her.

The feelings of anger still smoldered inside of her but she managed to keep herself from exploding. Health issues and conflict with her husband aside, the last thing Ochako wanted was for Reiji to take note of this complicated situation that was going on around him. They were feelings she herself still had to figure out. A full grown adult. A six-year-old shouldn't even come close to wondering about things like that.

Ochako pulled her eyes off him and stared ahead of her. From where she was sitting she could just about look into one of the rooms they had left empty. Usually, the door stayed closed, she made sure it did.

She seriously resented the room.

The two had once decided that the room was going to be for their future child. When they first decided on dubbing that the baby room they spent most of their free time in there. They would sit on the floor, right underneath the windowsill and like old times talk about possible designs. Both of them couldn't wait to bring their ideas to life, none of them had thought that the room could stay empty.

After that revelation, they had only talked about the room twice.

Once, were Uraraka requested to keep the door closed.

The second time, being recent, where Bakugou told her he had been thinking about the room and wanted to do something with it. Not further elaborating why the sudden spark of inspiration.

After their talk and seeing the open door, it was clear to her now. It was really starting to bug him too. How hard it was to live with a gap in his life, which was unclear if it would ever fill itself. And though unclear, the odds looked like they were against him.

She had to do something. Unlike her, her husband didn't want to live with the pain. He wasn't fine with heartache and so choose different ways to cope. Arguably better ways. What kind of partner would she be if she didn't try to help him with that? After all the effort he put into voicing his troubles and making his emotions clear to her, it would be wrong for Ochako not to. It was undoubtedly going to be a strain on her mentality. But in the end, it would be fine. As she supported him, he would support her too. It's been like that for the longest time.

Ochako played with her wedding ring as she kept looking through the crack into the room.

The more she thought about it, the more benefits of changing the room came to her. The fact that she would be productive was a big factor. Ochako hadn't done much but resting for weeks and was itching to get back into feeling busy again. She was sure her little caretaker would forget his mission for a moment if she told him it was a creative project.

"Say Shortcake, if you could paint the walls of a room, what color would you paint them in?" Ochako asked Reiji.

The kid put down his pencil and turned on his back. He looked up at the ceiling and made weird faces as he thought.

"Purple," he eventually decided.

Ochako was a bit taken aback by the answer. She had no idea how Bakugou would feel about the clashing color in their interior, with their home almost being entirely white. But she was willing to trust Reiji's artistic judgment.

"Purple like the flowers outside."

She hissed at that. The purple like the bellflowers in the front garden was far from what she had in mind.

"Well, that's going to be the color of the walls in the spare room. If we have the paint for it."

The boy's eyes started gleaming and he sat up, excitedly clamping onto his two feet.

"I think we have to check the attic for that." Ochako thought out loud.

She stood up from the rocking chair and waved Reiji to come along with her. Together they walked upstairs and gently she ushered the boy to walk up the narrow and steep stairs to the attic. The first thing Ochako noticed was they really hadn't come up here that often. A lot of things were stockpiled on each other and catching dust which there was a lot of floating around in the air.

Reiji went out to explore the only part in the house he hasn't visited yet as Ochako stood against a post wondering where she left the buckets she had brought up there months ago. The boy actually managed to bump into an empty bucket before she even had a clue where to look and took out the first bucket he saw by the handle. Ochako walked over to him and inspected the color.

Just as she thought, white paint.

She suggested Reiji should explore more parts of the attic as she forced herself into a narrow area where she spotted more buckets and took them out.

Green paint, yellow paint, turquoise paint, coral paint.

All gender neutral colors, like she remembered correctly.

Wasn't there anything she could mix to come close to the purple? Turquoise and coral maybe?

With the two buckets in her hands, Ochako turned back to Reiji who she now noticed had been awfully quiet for a hot minute. He was sat in a corner, bent over himself.

"'l-love'?" Reiji attempted to read something.

Ochako cocked her head, put the buckets aside and walked over to him. He had a big, old picture book on his lap. His finger hovered above the words written on a Polaroid picture.

‘With my love.' It read.

When he noticed Ochako's shadow casting over him he threw his head back and stared at her with his big blue eyes.

"Is that you and Mr. Bakugou?" His little finger went to tap on her face on the picture.

She sat down next to him and nodded.

"Mr. Bakugou looks so small," Reiji giggled.

It was true that Katsuki had grown a lot. And it wasn't the only thing that had changed about him. Looking at the pictures you could perfectly see him drastically mature through the years.

Like the curious kid he was, Reiji asked for the story behind the pictures. Ochako was happy to tell him all of them, it had been a while since she had looked through the book as well. She pulled the book on her lap and told the boy about the first time they ever went to the beach. Telling him about the long journey, and how they took a break in front of this very house wishing for what they had now. She couldn't stop laughing when she told Reiji about how Katsuki destroyed the sandcastle and how they competed in the sandcastle building competition with a little boy called Kaito.

Every other time they went to the beach she also remembered perfectly. Every detail came back to her as soon as she glanced over the picture, even when a lot of them looked remotely the same. Ochako told Reiji about time Katsuki got stung by a jellyfish and how he managed to shout out every curse word under the sun. And about the time they went when the water was too cold, but them being hard headed teens went for a swim anyways and caught a cold that had them bedridden for days.

The swimming shorts that drifted away, the ‘broken' kite, the chase after the vengeful seagull, the first car drive and the night of the empty beach.

Every memory a good one, especially the latter was close to her heart.

"Was this when…?" Reiji gasped.

"Mhm!"

Ochako pointed at her ring.

That was the last thing she saw coming when they went to the beach that day. She actually didn't think it was going to be a fond memory at first. That day they left incredibly late because Katsuki slept in, to then rush Ochako as soon as she was able to wake him up. He was irritable and quick to lash out at the traffic on the road, but to only then act like that wasn't the case when Ochako asked what his deal was. When they arrived at the beach, all they really did was sit on their towels underneath an umbrella and have multiple discussions.

Katsuki said he felt too sick to go swimming and Ochako suggested going home. But the guy insisted on staying, trying to convince her it would most likely be over soon. The hours went by and he didn't feel any better at all which caused to get Ochako more concerned. Eventually, she managed to drag him to the first aid hut and get painkillers to soothe his aching stomach. After that they laid for hours on their towels, apologizing about things that came out wrong and then teasing each other and joking around to lighten the mood.

More hours went by, the beach got emptier and Katsuki started feeling worse despite the painkillers. Back she was to being worried again, and after a few stern words he caved and agreed on leaving. When they packed up, Katsuki wanted to take a picture, like always before he left, insisted he would take one of her since they were the only ones left on the beach.

His faint smile able to convince her to go with his plan. Katsuki took her to where the waves crashed and asked her to stand to face the sea, which she did. She waited to hear the click of the Polaroid camera, to see the flash glisten in the water, but neither of those seemed to come.

When Ochako turned around she saw him, the big lump of nerves, with one knee in the sand and a small box in one hand, and that's when he snapped the picture.

She thought back to his welled up eyes.

"As if I wasn't going to say ‘yes'," Ochako laughed along with Reiji who had a good time imaging Katsuki as nervous as he was that day.

They continued to flip through the book and felt a lump swell up in her throat as she saw the wedding invitation.

"Woah! Did Mr. Bakugou draw this?"

She didn't think it would still be able to make her feel emotional to this day. But seeing the signature alone made her swallow down.

"No, a wonderful woman we met when were little drew this. She was a really good artist."

The card was a smaller version of the drawing Suzuki gave Ochako the first time she went to the beach with Katsuki. The invites were nearly not as beautiful as the original but still, her talent and hard work managed to shine. Ochako could remember how over the moon Suzuki was when they told her about the engagement and using her drawing for the invite. The woman cried tears of joy and signed that she was forever grateful for appreciating her art as they did.

Days after the wedding, she passed away in her sleep. Peacefully in the comfort of her rocking chair outside the home. Ochako who had started working at the home during college was the one who found her. Suzuki had a smile on her face, the fondest smile she had ever shown.

It was so hard to believe that the woman she was swaying with at her reception was sitting there, lifeless right in front of her eyes.

Suzuki had told her that she wasn't afraid to pass. That she actually wanted to pass. That after witnessing Ochako and Katsuki get married that she was convinced she had experienced every good thing the world had to offer. She had experienced, rejoice, reconciliation, redemption, and love that she knew would last a lifetime. She was ready for peace.

Ochako managed to make the conversation lighthearted, saying that by how strong she had been going it might take a while. She gave Suzuki years, but in it the end it was only four days.

Reiji sensed she was having a hard time to talk about the wedding and crept closer to her. He had sympathy written all over his face as he paid his full attention to Ochako's story. When she paused to regain her composure Reiji tried to fill the silence by commenting on the pictures.

Complimenting her dress, stating how shocked he was that there were so many plants, chirping that the fairy lights looked really pretty.

"It looks like Mr. Bakugou wasn't a good dancer. Did he step on your toes a lot?" The boy eventually managed to make Ochako laugh.

"He practiced really hard so he wouldn't do that! In the end, he did step on my toes once, but he didn't notice and I never told him," she winked.

They flipped through the book some more and came across a picture of the two of them in front of the house they lived in now. They stood in front of the white fence, Ochako with her arms around Katsuki as he looked at the silver key she was holding.

Building the house was a journey and a half. At Katsuki's graduation party his father revealed that he had actually bought them the plot of land years ago, convinced that the pair was going to last and wanted to help with their dream. It was the second time she had seen her partner cry actual tears of joy. The morning after the party Katsuki didn't waste any time and got in contact with the companies he made himself familiar with and made a name at to help him with building the house. From then on he spent almost every second he had on the project.

It ended up looking very different from his very first sketch he gifted Ochako on her seventeenth birthday. But as the years went by their taste changed, and so did Katsuki's art style. He also was more knowledgeable now and saw the importance in matters they didn't even think twice about when they were teenagers.

A lot of effort went into this. A lot of late nights full of frustration and neglect of health. Ochako pulled some weight off his shoulders by fully getting herself involved with the interior design. Katsuki played the yes-man and practically agreed to every stylistic choice Ochako had in mind. Though it was very much less frustrating than building the actual house it turned out it was still stressful styling the whole house, and that's why she stopped doing so and eventually left the rest to Katsuki.

Reiji slid his finger over the picture. "Why is Mr. Bakugou's hand on your belly?"

Ochako had tried her hardest to ignore that part of the picture. But now that Reiji had pointed it out she felt like she had to speak up about it.

"Because there was a baby in my belly at the time..." She carefully explained.

Aiming to leave it at that Ochako turned the page, only to be confronted by the picture of an ultrasound. She crossed her legs tighter together and held in a bit of her breath when she saw the boy's finger sliding over to the picture.

"Is this the baby?" He asked as he frowned at the black and white snapshot.

Ochako could only bring herself to nod.

"But where is the baby now?" Reiji pushed.

This was not something she could brush off. A curious child like him would keep pushing, not having exactly understood yet that this is a subject that comes close to heart. The more he would keep fishing for answers the more it would hurt her. She knew the strain of telling him would be less than not speaking about it.

How could she even begin to explain? This was not about losing a goldfish, this was about losing one of the things she cherished the most.

Ochako was careful to choose her words. "The baby stayed a very tiny bean. A bean that wouldn't sprout."

It was the most child-friendly why she could think of explaining a miscarriage to a six-year-old.

Thinking of it alone was draining to her. She didn't have a lot of energy, to begin with. But as long as Reiji kept asking questions, she would try to her best to answer.

Even though it hurt her so, even if she felt like the scars were far from mending now.

Reiji put his small hand on Ochako stomach and she dug her teeth in the delicate flesh of her lip, trying hard to hold back tears.

"No Shortcake, the bean is not there anymore..." She whispered as she combed her fingers through his soft, dark strands.

"Can't you make another baby?" He then asked as he kept his hand on her stomach.

Ochako couldn't answer that question because she didn't know herself. After the miscarriage, Katsuki and her were obviously beyond devastated. The house had never been so quiet after that afternoon they found out. Ochako was the first one to suggest that they shouldn't try again. Determined to fulfill their dream of being parents one day, they kept trying.

And trying.

And trying.

But their attempts were in vain.

Having no clue what they were doing wrong, they visited their doctor. Who then told them that Ochako most likely had underlying medical issues. If they wanted to find out for sure they had to make another appointment.

The appointment was never made.

Too scared to find out if she was infertile she avoided the doctors. Katsuki had tried to convince her a couple of times. Had even suggested to call the doctors himself.

That led to a broken house phone, a dent in the wooden floor and in one of the walls.

It was her body, she told Katsuki. He had no say in the matter whatsoever, she claimed.

He was in perfect health. She wasn't.

If she went back to the doctors she might have to live with the guilt of not being able to provide children and complete the perfect picture they both wanted so badly.

What did he have to feel guilty about?

For the first time since they lived together, they didn't sleep in the same bed.

The morning after Ochako woke up seeing that Katsuki was plastering the dent in the wall. They told each other good morning and never spoke of the appointment from that day onwards.

"I don't think so," Ochako breathed.

"But you would make a very good mommy and Mr. Bakugou would make a very good daddy."

"I wish that you saying that was enough for it to happen..." She felt a tear running down her cheek and quickly tried to wipe it away before it rolled off her face.

Ochako put an arm around Reiji and pulled him close to her chest. She put a hand on his head and left a kiss on his crown as she let a few more tears run down her face. His hand that was on her stomach wrapped itself around her waist and scrunched up the fabric of her shirt that was hanging loosely off her back.

"Don't be sad Ms. Bakugou. I meant it!" He mumbled underneath her.  

"I know."

The woman sniffled and kissed his crown again.

Children were too good for this world.

Scared she was going to smother him, Ochako loosened her grip and he sat up again. Lightly she rubbed the aching points on her chest.

The poor boy's eyes were glossy as well. With the little energy, she had left she forced herself to smile at him.

"Let's go and try to paint the room purple alright?" She croaked.

Ochako took closed the book and stood up to get the buckets. She picked up the turquoise and coral paint. Sh left Reiji sitting with the book as she looked for brushes.

She waved him over when she collected all the necessities and went back down a floor. She went into the master bedroom to fetch two old dress shirts of Katsuki's. One she threw over Reiji. As Ochako buttoned him up and rolled up his sleeves she asked him to go put the paint tools downstairs whilst she changed. He nodded and took the two buckets and brushes downstairs with his shirt dragging across the floor.

Ochako opened the closet again and fetched one of her denim shorts she didn't wear anymore out of a nook of the closet. She pulled down her jeans and noticed that she had dirtied her underwear a little bit.

Great.

Though she wouldn't constantly get reminded of failed attempts by not keeping track of her menstrual cycle, it did mean that she was constantly getting surprised. Often at the worst of times. Like right now, right when she wanted to get busy.

But it was good her period finally came around. It explained why she was so tired and the heavy emotions that unexpectedly switched every now and then. Now that she kept thinking about it, it did explain practically every symptom that had been bugging her.

Slowly she lowered her panties and cringed at the few spots of blood. It made her feel a little queasy. Ochako groaned and threw the panties next to the laundry basket. She took another pair and put it on along with the shorts.

She washed her hands in the kitchen before meeting Reiji who stood in front of the crack into the room. She dried her hands on the shirt and pushed the door open. Back again that queasy feeling was. Now that she knew what was going on with her body every symptom seemed to hit her much harder than before. Add that with the unpleasant sensations the room gave her and she felt as sickly as she did in the morning.

Ochako sat down puffing out little bits of air and Reiji immediately came wagging to her side with a brush in his hand, aiming to help her. She waved him off, gesturing that she was fine and opened the turquoise paint bucket. With the brush in her hand, she hovered over it.

This was it.

The white walls were finally going to get a color.

The room was finally going to have meaning.

"What kind of room do you want this to be?" She asked Reiji.

His hand went on his chin and he hummed. "A room that makes you happy." He came up with.

What that exactly meant, Ochako didn't know but she couldn't deny that it was a good idea.

A room that made her happy.

Maybe after the walls were colored she knew what would have to be in it for the room to make her ‘happy'. But that meant she had to actually lower her brush into the paint.

Her hand didn't allow it. It refused to move its muscles the way she commanded them.

She felt herself getting lightheaded from staring into the bucket for too long. Her head was spinning and her stomach turning, nausea now getting extremely serious. So serious that she couldn't stay in the room for much longer. The first wave was making its way up her throat when Ochako threw her brush down and stood up. She covered her mouth and rushed to the upstairs bathroom so that Reiji couldn't hear.

Almost missing the toilet bowl Ochako vomited the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. She coughed between waves of vomiting and dry heaved. Messily she tried to hold her hair out of her face and keep herself from sinking deeper into the bowl. When the waves of pressure took longer to come she swallowed back the spit the was hanging from her lips and dried her eyes. The cold of the tiles felt horrible against her heated up skin and sent shivers down her spine. Desperately she tried to get herself off the floor but she had been completely weakened.

Something really wasn't right. Only now she realized that Katsuki's concern, how over the top it may have been, was fair.

Ochako tried to raise herself off the ground again and turned around to search for the ridge of the sink. Her eyes traveled downwards to the cabinets underneath the sinks. Her hand that had almost reached the ridge made its way to one of the golden knobs of the cabinet instead. Her hand gripped one knob tightly and turned it to the right.

Click.

"Danuja for fuck's sake, I thought you would be tired by now!" Clumsily Katsuki tried to fish the key of the front door out of his pocket as he got weighed down by multiple plastic bags and dragged off the porch by the still overly excited puppy.

After missing the keyhole a couple of times Katsuki managed to unlock the door. Immediately the dog zoomed passed him, running into the house looking for her other owner. With a bit of grumbling, he threw down the bags and stretched his arms.

How long was it going to take for that Rottweiler to become so lazy that it would think five minutes around the block was enough for the day?

Walking around with the dog this excited was an exercise he wasn't that fond of. Something that he couldn't pull off alone at least.

Maybe he should've let Reiji come. Now that he thought about it he was sure Ochako would have been fine on her own.

Just before he wanted to call out for them Danuja came running out of the spare room with Reiji. He was wearing one of his old dress shirts and letting the sleeves and the bottom drag across the floor. The dog chewed on one of the cuffs as the boy walked up to Katsuki. The man didn't know what to think of this sight and scratched his head.

"Rei, what are you wearing? And whe-?"

"I don't need the bike anymore," Reiji casually interrupted him.

Katsuki blinked at him and the kid simply stared back at him with his innocent eyes.

"What? Why? I just went out and bought the things to fix the bike. Couldn't you have told me sooner?"

"You can fix the bike, I'm only saying I don't need it anymore," the six-year-old elaborated.

Katsuki scoffed. "What are you…"

His attention then went to the creaking of one of the doors. He saw his wife stepping out of the spare room. Now more confused than ever he lost his words.

Why was she wearing an old dress shirt as well, why was she in the spare room, why did she look even sicker than before?

"Ochako, what is…"

A smile appeared on her face, a smile brighter than he had seen in days. From behind her back, she pulled out a small thin stick.

A pregnancy test.

Katsuki gasped, made his way to her and cupped her face.

"A-a-are you sure?!" He yelled.

She held up her other hand and showed three other tests that all showed the same result.

"I'm pretty positive."

Writers note:

Reiji, meaning: courteous child; a well-mannered baby; kind and well behaved. Danuja, meaning: knight, a ruler. The first child, a girl, Bakugou Sumire, meaning: purple, flower. The second child, a girl, Bakugou Seika, meaning: pure summer. The third child, a boy, Bakugou Katsuro, meaning: the victory of the son.

Beta reader: @kyuubaee  

[ninethecat]

Today has been a long day.

(Just going to warn that this includes mentions of blood, and is very long... I'll section off in blue. Apologies. Feel free to scroll past.)

Mondays are the only days i have three classes (that doesn't sound so bad until i mention my graphic design class is 3 hours long, and the other two are 75 minutes each). I usually don't have to work on mondays, but i was scheduled today and i am scheduled next Monday... I'm not looking foreward to it.

Before Classes

My day started off with a usual morning visit from GB with a bit of sleepy, groggy cuddling (i don't wake up well but being with him helps) and he took care of Tobey, our cocker spaniel, making sure he went outside while i fed the cats.

Normally Tobey doesn't stay out long, so i was expecting him to be done by the time i fed the cats. I was wrong. GB came into the house (Tobey is in the garage, and we let out the dogs into the backyard). "Micha... Something is wrong with Tobey..." Great.

I head into the garage, Tobey is still outside, and I almost walk to the back door but thankfully GB stops me. I don't know how common knowledge this is, but cocker spaniels have a tendency to wet themselves a little quite often (normally when excited). This is expected from Tobey. What I didn't expect was to see blood drops in it. That's concerning. GB cleaned it up (I love him) and i went to the back door to bring him in. It was dewey out and he doesn't like wet grass, so he was standing on the patio, which meant i had to let him in through the house.

At this point i already know something is up because he isn't jumping and scratching at the door. He's not even walking up to it. After going out and sitting on the step by the door I get him to walk slowly towards me. He walks up the steps and goes into the house and just kinda stands there in the space between the door and the door into the garage (only about 3 ft apart). I open the door for him to go, but he doesn't move. I had to carry him, and i wouldn't have been able to do it if GB weren't there to hold it open for me, because Tobey is fully grown and i have little to no upper body strength.

I get him close to his crate (we have a thing with not referring to it as a cage so it's either called a house or a crate, but the boys can't stay outside together without fighting and can't be trusted wandering the house unsupervised without marking, so they're in there when we're gone.) He just stands still. After a while he just kinda looks at me. It's obvious this poor guy doesn't feel well at all. GB and I kinda coerce him into the crate, one paw at a time and it takes him a while to even sit. I immediately send my mom a text telling her he needs to go to the vet.

...

Then i have to gather up my stuff for the day because i don't have enough time to gather up my work stuff after classes because i have less than an hour total, fifteen minutes to drive, and I'll also need time to eat because i have a 3 hour class that is in session the only 2.5 hours the quickest, closest, and cheapest place to eat on campus is open. Yay.

Classes

Now the fun part. College. I have my first class with GB on the third floor of a building that is on the opposite side of campus from where I park. I caught GB and his friends right as they were about to get into the building. We go up the stairs together, and the instructor is in the hallway on the phone. We had to wait for another class to get out. This is the pont where i realize i left my flash drive on my desk... At home. We had a powerpoint about the community service project, and reading alloud is involved. I just hide behind GB (successfully, i might add) and avoid enough eye contact to avoid being volunteered.

Afterwards we walked towards my graphic design class and there was a funny interaction:

GB's friend: "Why are we going this way? The stairs are over there."

GB: *points furiously at me*

Next: Graphic design. My favorite class. We're currently working on a surrealism project. I made flying dolphins. I started another one. I have 3 done, two started/in progress, and one more to start. I'm only required to have 3 but i want to double level (grades are different in that class) because it comes with benefits like a department scholarship or a job recommendation from the instructor. He's pretty cool. He's dyslexic, too.

I learned that i will not be required to come in Wednesday. But i want to level so I'm coming in on Wednesday. I'll just actually get to eat lunch before 3:00 in the afternoon.

And then there's my math class: quantitative reasoning, or, in layman's terms: solving things with numbers. Today on "How did anyone graduate without learning this?" I present: "Percents" ft. The Author Who Thinks He's a Lot Funnier Than He Actually Is... (I went all the way up to calculus in high school but i struggled so i was put in the basic math class as a way for me to make sure i don't struggle with concepts i won't really need. Looking at you, trig. No one actually likes you anyway.) We also changed groups so i have three more people to have to tell I'm dyslexic and not stupid... Yay. (I mess up numbers a lot specifically and i can't do basic math correctly in my head because i occasionally blank on what numbers do and word problems are awful.)

After Classes

I drove home. I asked GB to come hang out before i had to go to work. He checks on Tobey while i munch on dome leftover rice. My parents come home, ask how Tobe is doing, then immediately go into the garage and come out with him on a leash, and he's actually walking. It's an improvement. They will out the door, so I'm reassured that he's actually going to the vet as soon as possible. He may be an ass at times, but i still love him and want him to feel better.

Work was boring. I had to stock 2-liters since I'm apparently the only one willing to do it and make everything look nice. We didn't have many customers but of course we have three pizzas on the line, someone calling, and a truck pull into the parking lot the moment I'm in the store by myself. Yay. Always fun. Had a lot of sides go out of date so i got a free cheese bread. And some cookie dough.

I got home and i went out to the garage to see my parents on the couch and Tobey laying on the floor by the bed. He starts to have a bit more energy with me around as my mom explains the vet visit.

Not only are cocker spaniels prone to wetting themselves, but with their big, floppy ears, they're prone to ear infections as well. Apparently this can cause a secondary infection, and in poor Tobe's case that means a uti. He's on meds again. This dog has had more prescriptions than i probably ever will. They're a lot of work.

So now i have to give this dog pills every morning for a while and hope he eats enough not to get sick on me. I don't want to clean that up.

...

I'm sorry if this was too long to read. I don't think anyone will actually read this through. It's a novel. Sorry.

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 1, Chapter 7)

Notes: In non-canon scenes this chapter, Alodia gets flirty over dishes. Also, as encouraging as likes are, I love comments. (Shameless fishing for comments over) :) 

Somehow, that night, I manage to eventually fall asleep. When I wake the next morning, Murphy is curled up next to me, kneading me with his paws like a kitten. I stay beside him for a moment, rubbing behind his ears. Then, with a sigh, I push back the blankets. No sense in staying in bed. It won't fix anything.  Nnnnnn

I brush my teeth and take a shower. Before dressing, I dry myself thoroughly and change the bandage on the claw marks. They're not bleeding anymore, and there is no sign of infection. I dress and run a comb through my damp hair. I've just finished making the bed when there's a knock at the door. I go to open it, and find Diego outside.

“Hey, Allie. Ready for breakfast?”

“You know I'm always ready for breakfast.” I grab my key and step outside, shutting the door behind me. “Do you think things are going to be cool in there? That fight yesterday was pretty heated...”

“Heh. You made a temperature pun.”

“Oh, hush. It's a serious question.”

He shrugs. “People fight all the time. How could anyone stay mad in a paradise like this?”

“...Maybe you're right.”

We take the elevator down to the restaurant level. The moment I step inside, the tension rolls over me like a wave. Everyone's there, but no one is speaking. The only things on the buffet table are cold bagels and dry cereal. The laughter and banter of yesterday morning are gone. The beach crew sits on one side, with the group who went investigating on the other. Jake and Sean head their respective tables, eyeballing each other icily. Diego sighs.

“...Welp...I was wrong. Come on. Let's get something to eat.”  

Jake stands and heads over to the buffet table, cutting in front of me. Sean stands sharply, putting himself in Jake's path.

“And where do you think you're going?”

“Getting myself another bagel, Sergeant Buzzkill,” Jake growls. “Got a problem with that?”

“Not everyone's gotten a bagel yet. Since you're not big on contributing to the team, the least you could do is wait till everyone else has had a turn.”

“What are you, the breakfast police? Get out of my way.”

Sean doesn't budge. “Sit. Your. Ass. Down.”

“Sean!” I snap. “Did I miss an election where we voted you Supreme Leader? Because I don't know why you think you can tell people what they can and can't do! There are plenty of bagels to go around, so why don't you relax and enjoy yours instead of worrying about everyone else?”

Jake smirks. “Well, look at that. Even Princess is on my side. That's how you know you're wrong.”

Sean frowns at you. “Really, Alodia? I thought you were better than this.” But he steps out of the way. Jake continues towards the buffet table.

“Can I grab you a plate, Princess?”

“Sure, thanks.”

“Forget it!” Sean snarls. “I'm going to go see if I can find a working radion in this place. You wanna help me, be my guest.”

Michelle, Grace, and Aleister go with him as he storms out. A leaden silence settles over the rest of us. I manage to get half my bagel down before my appetite leaves me completely. I stand.

“Everything okay, Allie?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I...just need some air. You finish your breakfast.”

“Yeah. Sure...”

With Murphy at my heels, I head out into the courtyard and stand for awhile, breathing in the air. The smell of saltwater mingles with the scent of the jungle's plantlife. I hug myself, trying to calm the anxious tremors running down my body.

“Alodia!” I turn to see Raj bounding over to me. “Hey, can we talk?”

“...What's up?”

“I'm not gonna mince words. I'm worried about our group. If we keep up this whole feud, we're never gonna get off this island. We need a way to come together. I think I might know how to do it. But I'm gonna need your help.”

I nod. “I'm listening.”

“This is going to sound kind of crazy...but we need to throw a feast.”

“A...feast?”

“Look. My grandmother had this saying: Words make war...but pies make peace.”

For a moment, I can only blink at him. “...Raj, that...is genius!”

He grins at me. “You think so? Most people just stare at me confused when I say it.”

“...How...many times have you been in this situation?”

“Oh, you know. That one time at Chi Sigma Alpha...and in my a capella group...oh, and junior prom...Hoo boy, that was a doozy...” He shakes his head. “Look, the point is, I've actually got a lot of experience bringing folks together. And there's nothing that does the job like good food, strong drinks, and a lot of laughs.”

“I am totally sold. So what's the plan?”

“I'll handle the cooking. I was poking around the kitchen earlier, and there is a lot of good stuff in there.”

“What do you need me for?”

“Come on, Alodia. What's the most important thing for a feast?”

“Uh...friendship? Family? A community coming together in unity and support?”

Raj actually facepalms. “Booze, Alodia! Really, really good booze! I need you to hit up every bar in the resort and make sure tonight's party is stocked!”

“Don't we have a bunch of stuff down here already?”

“Well...” He rubs the back of his head. “We've managed to put a surprisingly large dent in that already. But more importantly, you can't just serve your average pool bar swill at a feast like this. We need the top shelf stuff. The crème de la crème. ...Literally. I'd like a bottle of Creme de la Creme.”

“So, you're sending me on a scavenger hunt of all the bars in the resort to get some special booze for you?”

“I knew I could count on you! Now listen, I've got a few drinks in mind that I wanna make, but I'm going to need some specific ingredients. I'm gonna need that Creme de la Creme, a bottle of McLellyn's Whiskey, and a bottle of Armand de Fleur champagne. You got that.”

“Got it.”

He takes my hand between his large palms and looks earnestly into my eyes. “Good luck, Alodia. The fate of the party is on your shoulders.”

I head back into the hotel, aiming to check the directory on the first floor, when someone sidles up beside me.

“Hey there, buddy!” Zahra's voice is just slightly syrupy. “Heard you were going on a bar crawl.”

I stare at her. “Were...were you eavesdropping on me an Raj?”

“You call it eavesdropping, I call it conveniently overhearing while hiding in a corner. To-may-to, to-mah-to. I'm in.”

“...You are?”

“Look, let's just say I'm a pretty experienced drinker, okay? I've got one hell of a discerning palate. You want this to be some run-of-the-mill frat party beer run? Be my guest. But if you wanna come back with the best of the best, I'm your gal.”

Just then, Craig rounds the corner, appearing in front of us.

“What's this I hear about a beer run?”

“Does anyone on this island not eavesdrop on people?!” I cry.

“Come on, Alodia. You're gonna need someone to carry all those bottles. Someone big and strong...”

“Hey!” Zahra protests. “I called going with Alodia first!”

“Yeah, well, I called it second. And everyone knows first is the worst, second is the best!”

“Who?! Who knows that?!”

I press my fingers to my temples. “I'm sorry, could we back up a moment? ...Are you two just trying to get drunk?”

“Yeeeeeeah, A-dogg! You get it!” Craig holds his fist out for a bump, but Zahra slaps his hand away.

“You really need to learn how to read tone, Craig. And yes. We're just trying to get drunk. It's hot. We're stuck on this island. And we're all probably going to get eaten by a sabertooth tiger. Can you blame us?”

“...Well, I guess when you put it like that...” I sigh. “Okay, fine. You can both tag along.”

Both their expressions shift to something that suggests I've asked them to cross Mount Atropo on a tightrope.

“What?!”

“No, that's...”

They look at each other a moment and then sigh simultaneously.

“Fine,” Zahra mutters. “But I still get the first sip.”

“And I get to drink the most!”

I grin wickedly. “See? You two are getting along already. Seems Raj knows what he's talking about. Now come on. Let's get him what he needs.”

We head through the hotel with Murphy trotting eagerly after us. Remembering the vintage wine we discovered on the first day, I lead us to the ballroom first. I throw open the ornate double doors and suddenly stop short, a strangled scream escaping my lips.  

...The ballroom is gone. On the other side of the doors is a rickety catwalk over a lake of bubbling, blood-colored magma. Smoke and oppressive heat surround me, choke me, encase my body in a suffocating layer of sweat. I can just barely make out the figure of a man on the far end of the catwalk. ...A man wearing an ornately decorated lion mask...

“Wha...who...?”

He looks at me, cocking his head to the side. Then, man, magma, and catwalk dissolve in a blinding white light.

...I'm back in the hotel ballroom with Craig and Zahra. They're both staring at me.

“...What the hell was that?” I ask dazedly.

“What was what?” Zahra asks.

“You okay, Alodia? You just...totally spaced out there for a second...”

“I...I'm fine. Just got lost in my thoughts for a moment, I guess.” I flash them a bright smile. “Let's go find us some alcohol!”

“This doesn't look like a bar...” Craig remarks, eyeing the wedding decorations skeptically.

“Guessing you haven't been to many fancy weddings. Rich couples go all out on nice wine and champagne.”

“Alodia knows what's up. The two of us came here on the first day, and hoo boy did we find the good stuff.”

“Yeah, well, where I'm from, the only thing they serve at weddings is cheap beer and moonshine.”

“I've always wondered,” Zahra says. “Do you actually drink it out of a jug labled XXX, or is that just a stereotype?”

“Okay, stay on target, you two. We're looking for a champagne called Armand de Fleur.”

“Oooo, I've heard of that,” Zahra says. “I'll give Raj credit, boy knows his booze.”

Craig is already poking through the bar fridge. “And we've got a couple bottles right here!” He pulls out a few bottles and tucks them into his backpack.

“Perfect. Next let's check the re--”

“Hold your horses, Alodia,” Zahra cuts in. “It's not a bar crawl unless you're actually drinking.”

“You know, I don't really recall saying this was a bar crawl...”

But Zahra has already popped open a bottle and taken a sip. “Mmmm. Tastes like horrific wealth disparity.”

“Gimme that!” Craig snatches the bottle from her and takes a swig. “Tastes like champagne. What's the big deal?”

“The big deal is that it's one of the finest, most flavorful champagnes in the world!” Zahra shrieks. “You are such a philistine!”

“Racist much? My family's from Taiwan!”

“How about you, Alodia? Gonna drink?”

I sigh and roll my eyes, but I feel a smile playing around my mouth. “Ah, what the hell. Let's do this.”

“That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, y'all!” Craig passes me the bottle, and I tip it towards him in a toast.

“Cheers!” I put it to my lips and take a good, long swallow. Bubbly sweetness rests on my tongue. I detect a hint of pear and an aftertaste of honey. “Ohhhh, wow, that is good...”

“Another! Another!” Craig cheers.

We pass the bottle around for a couple minutes. As I cast my eyes over the ballroom, the world takes a few seconds to catch up with the motion of my head.

“Ooookay, I am definitely feeling that. We should...check the next bar on our list.” I stand carefully, blinking through the mild alcoholic buzz. “Just don't let me drive there.”

Zahra snorts. “Come on. I know where to go next.”

She leads us through the hotel until we come to a thick double door. A sign hangs on the wall nearby. I read it aloud.

“'Club Skullkid'?”

“The hell is this?”

Craig throws open the doors, and reveals a dazzling, high-end nightclub. Soft velour chairs and benches surround gleaming tables, and the whole place glows with multicolored neon lights.

“Oh, whaaaaaaaaaaaat?” Craig cries. “No one told me there was a nightclub here! Why are we not tearing this place down every night?!”

“Because I can think of no worse way to spend my time than listening to crappy EDM while watching your sweaty ass fumble around?” Zahra mutters.

“Pfft. You're just jealous cuz you don't have my moves.”

Craig does what might be intended as a dance...but he looks more like a spastic bunny rabbit. Zahra rolls her eyes and wanders over to the DJ booth. She scoffs.

“What is this, like, retro night? All this equipment is from the mid-90's. Not to mention the music...”

“Come on, guys. The bar's our target. Should have plenty of cocktail supplies.”

Zahra slides over to the bar and starts rummaging through bottles. “Sure does. We've got blackberry liqueur, absinthe, hot chili vodka...”

“We're looking for Creme de la Creme.”

“Yup. Got some of that, too.”

Craig picks up a bottle and reads the label. “ 'A premiere flavored liqueur with hints of chocolate, vanilla, and a dash of cinnamon.' ” He pops open the bottle and takes a chug. “Gah! So...sweet...and...creamy...”

Zahra shrieks in exasperation. “You're supposed to mix a tiny bit of it into a cocktail, you ape, not chug it like cheap beer!”

“Well, where's the warning label, huh?!”

Zahra sighs. “Just give it to me. I'll show you how it's done.” She swings around the bar and starts mixing. I settle onto one of the valour couches to watch. With a flourish, she slides a tall glass of multicolored booze into Craig's beefy hand. He takes a sip.

“Oooooooooooooooh, yeah. That's good.”

“It better be. There's like, six shots in there.”

“There's no way I'm keeping you two sober, is there?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Zahra agrees. “Want one?”

I sigh. “What the hell. You only live once, right?”

“YOLO, baby!” Craig crows. “I've got that tattooed on my butt!”

“We all remember, Craig,” Zahra mutters.

“I don't! I've never seen Craig's butt!” I catch a cocktail as Zahra slides it down the bar to me and take a sip. “Mmm, delicious. And...incredibly strong.”

Zahra offers me a lopsided grin. “Gotta say, Alodia. You're all right.”

“Uh...thanks?” I swallow the rest of my cocktail in three gulps. “Come on. We've still gotta get that...the whiskey.”

“Sure thing,” Craig says, giving me a thumbs up. “After I finish this cocktail. And the one after that.”

It takes us an hour to get out of the nightclub. Partially because we keep drinking awhile, but mostly because the floor has started to become tippy under my feet. Craig's backpack bulges with clinking bottles.

“Hey, guys? Is one of the island's mysteries that everything is spinning? Or is that just me?”

“Nyah! Craig's drunk!” Zahra drawls. “He's as drunk as a drunk guy who's always drunk and is like, 'Hey! Look at me! I'm drunk!'”

I snort, dissolving into giggles. She blinks at me.

“Um...I'm pretty drunk, too, aren't I.”

I nod, still giggling. “You guys...you guys are...yeah...this was...yeeeeeeeeeeeah. I'm not wordsing good...”

Craig slings an arm over my shoulders. “Alodia's feelin' it, Zahra. Gotta looove this woman!”

I shake my head and give the world a few seconds to catch up. “...I think we'veit ev'ry bar in the rzzort. And we got a lot of alcohol. But we never did fin' that McLellyn's whiskey.”

“Well,” Zahra says. “There is one more bar.”

“There is?”

“Saw it when I washgoin' ov'r the blueprints. Somethin' called the V.I.P. Lounge.”

“V.I.P Lounge?” Craig says. “I didn't see anything about that in the brochure...”

“That's cuz you're not a V.I.P., Dummy. Unless it stands for Vomiting...Idiot...Poo-head...”

He snorts. “Sick burn, Z. Really got me with that one.”

“Juss shut up and follow me.”

She leads us through the halls until we come to a locked door with a keypad in the handle. Zahra scoffs.

“Simple one-source keypad authentication? It's like they want me to break in...”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“Saaaaauuuce,” Craig drawls. “It's the V.I.P. Lounge. You know they've got the best shizz in there.”

“The drunker you get, Craiggers, the more you sound like your old self. Remember that time freshman year when you...when we...” Zahra trails off, frowning. “...nevermind.”

“Less just get inside,” I mutter.

“Yeeeeeeeeah!” Craig yells. “Let's. Break! This! Door! Down!” He rams the door with his massive shoulder, but it stays put. Zahra rolls her eyes.

“You never learn, do you, big guy?” She pries open the keypad panel, examining the wires. “Alodia, keep Craig busy. I gotta work my magic.”

“Are you sure you oughta be doing that drunk?”

“Meh, what's the worst that could happen? I trip the wrong wire and 10000 volts of electricity surge through my body, leaving you idiots screaming at the charred husk that is my corpse?”

“...Craig, is she kidding? I can't tell if she's kidding.”

“I can never tell with her,” Craig says resignedly.

Zahra squints, focusing on the wires. A single drop of sweat trickles down her forehead as she mutters to herself.

“Okay...red to green...watch the breaker...careful...careful...aaaand...” There is a spark, and the doors slide open. “Aw, yeah! Slap my ass and call me Snape, 'cause I just worked some magic!”

My drunk brain won't let me hold a straight face. I break down in a fit of ungraceful giggles. Zahra glares at me.

“Tell anyone I said that, I will kill you both.”

I bite my cheek and nod, but I can still feel the smile tugging at my mouth.

The V.I.P Lounge lives up to its name. From the guilded marble fountain at the center of the room to the fancy gold curtains to the LCD screens and the glass case behind the bar that displays top-shelf alcohol.

I whistle, going to sit down on one of the couches. Murphy hops up beside me and settles onto my lap. “Good call, Zahra. This was totally worth it.”

“Uh, duh! Let's see what's this places got!” She steps towards the bar, but ends tripping over a chair and sprawling onto a couch. “On second thought...Imma juss lie here for a li'l while. If someone could just pour a drink into my mouth, that'd be swell...”

Craig makes it over to the bar. “Lessee what they got here. Some nice-ass vodka...like a crystal ball full of gin...and down in the fridge...” He lets out a whoop. “A cheese tray! Oh hells yeah, they've got a cheese tray!”

“Wait, Craig, you don't know how old it is. Maybe you should--” I stop when I hear him gulping noisily. “...Never mind.”

“Mmm...colby-jack.”

“Don't bother, Alodia. Craig's a human garbage disposal. One time freshman year, he ate a candy bar he'd dropped in a public hot tub.”

“The water's hot!” Craig retorts. “That means it's sterile!”

Zahra balks, sputtering for a moment. “Who taught you science?!” she finally shrieks.

“So...you guys knew each other freshman year?”

Instantly, there is a palpable shift in the mood in the room. Zahra and Craig glance uneasily at each other.

“We...uh...well...you know...”

“I mean...there was...”

I look between the two of them, putting two and two together.

“Wait...were you two a couple?”

“What?!” Craig yelps. “No! No no no! Definitely not! What a crazy thing to say!”

Zahra rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, Craig. Don't have a hernia. Yeah, we hooked up a few times. What's the big deal?”

“I thought you didn't want anyone to know.”

“Yeah, well, maybe sometimes I just don't have the energy to lie about it.”

“Huh. I gotta admit, I have a hard time picturing you two together.”

“Yeah, well,” Zahra sighs, “we were different people back then, just two dorky freshmen with no idea what to do...stuck in the same hall...”

Craig sits down next to Zahra, handing her a scotch on the rocks. They tap their glasses together.

“You had that long blonde ponytail, remember? And you always wore that nerdy pony sweater.”

“Yeah, well, you were a total dork. You had glasses and a bowlcut and all you ever talked about was World of Warcraft...”

“Please! Like you didn't totally make a character just to we could raid Scholomance together.”

“...I forgot all about that,” Zahra admits softly. “We wasted so many hours together...”

“Yeah...”

She scowls. “But then your stupid football team started winning, and you and Sean became kings of the school. And all you wanted to do was go to frat parties with perky little cheerleaders.”

“You coulda come with me, you know,” Craig says sullenly. “But no. You just wanted to hang out with those creepy hackers in the CS department.”

“At least they listened to me. They got what I had to say.” She sighs deeply. “...You think our Warcraft characters still exist? Just waiting around on some dusty server, remembering the good times?”

“They're probably pretty lonely.”

They sit in silence for a long time. I curl up on a couch and watch their faces until Zahra stands up and scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Sun's setting,” she mutters. “We should probably get back to Raj.”

“Yeah,” Craig agrees, getting to his feet. “Time to go.”

I stand as well. “Hang on a sec. Let's see if we can find that whiskey Raj wanted.” I make my way over to the shelf, scanning the labels. “Here it is. McLellyn's.”

I grab a couple of bottles and stuff them into Craig's backpack. I am zipping it up when something catches my eye.

“Huh...that's weird...”

“What's up?”

I pick up a half-full glass of whiskey sitting on the bar on top of a small paper napkin.

“Everything else is neatly put away. What's this doing here? It's like someone was here after the bar closed. Just...having a drink by themselves.” I take an experimental sip. “...Unless this is incredibly weak whiskey, it was on the rocks...but the rocks melted.”

Murphy, sitting on one of the stools, puts his paws up on the bar, raises his hackles, and growls at the glass.

“Spooky!” Zahra drawls. “Maybe it was a ghoooooooooost!”

“There's something written on a piece of paper here...” I pick it up and squint at it. “ 'Project Hermes activation codes. Utilizes satellite uplink at the L.H.O.'...And then a bunch of random numbers and letters. Anyone know what this means?”

“No idea. Now come on. Let's get out of here before it gets sentimental in here again.”

I snort. “Yeah. I thought Diego was a sappy drunk.”

I split off from Zahra and Craig and make my way to the kitchen, Craig's backpack on my shoulders. The heavy bottles clink loudly as I walk. As soon as I enter the kitchen, I am nearly overwhelmed by a dozen intoxicating smells. I inhale deeply.

“Oh, my God! Raj, it smells delicious! What are you making here?”

Raj pops up from behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron.

“There's kahlua pork on the grill, fries in the fryer, oysters are ready to go, and the samosas are stuffed and spiced.”

Murphy yips excitedly and scampers around the kitchen, greedily licking scraps off the floor.

“Slow down, fella. You don't want to get sick before the feast! Here.” I hold out the bag to Raj. “Your booze, oh master chef.”

Raj comes to take the bag. “Tell me you got the good stuff.” He opens the bag and looks through its contents. “All right, Alodia! You got everything!”

“I take my job as booze brigadier very seriously.”

“I knew I was right to count on you!” He sniffs the air curiously, leaning forward. He grins. “You sample the goods on your way back?”

“Not on the way back,” I say with a syrupy grin. “But I might've had a sip. Or two. Or three. ...Looks like you've got things handled down here, though.”

“Well, I had some help.”

He nods at a spot behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Quinn vigorously stirring something in a bowl.

“Quinn!”

“Yeah. She offered to help. She's an amazing cook.”

“Nah, I've just been following instructions. This feast is all Raj.”

Raj grins. “Aw, thanks. Now, I'm going to work on the set-up out by the pool. Everything's on a timer, so don't worry about a thing, Quinn. You just keep on with what you're doing, and I'll be back in a bit.”

He starts to leave, then pauses by the door. “Hey...Alodia. You're keeping track of all the crazy stuff on this island, aren't you?”

“Uh...kinda, I guess...”

“Maybe this isn't a big deal, but I did find one weird thing in the kitchen.” He holds out a frying pan. “All the other frying pans are normal. But this one had a...symbol on it...”

I take the pan and examine the symbol etched into the bottom. My stomach does a flip-flop. Still heady from my multiple cocktails, I can't be sure...but I think I've seen it before. Crude archery arrows with a couple extra legs...

“I don't know why,” Raj says, “But something about that symbol...it really stands out to me. Feels important for some weird reason. Like it's calling out to me. ...I sound crazy, don't I?”

“Yeah...” I admit. “But everything about this island is crazy.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap a quick picture.

Raj chuckles. “Touche. You see anything else like that, you'll let me know?”

“Sure thing.”

He heads out. I slip my phone back in my pocket and turn to Quinn.

“How's it going here?”

“Great! I'm working on dessert now.” She gestures in front of her, to the trays of fluffy cupcakes lining the countertop. “Wanna stick around and help? I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

“Count me in!” I say eagerly. “Though...I should warn you, I'm a little drunk.”

She giggles. “I don't need you sober to frost cupcakes.”

She smiles sweetly at me, blue eyes sparkling. Her cheeks are high with color from the heat in the kitchen. For a moment, I can only look back with what feels like a very goofy smile on my face. She tips her head at me.

“Just gonna stand there staring?” She pats the counter beside her. “Come around to my side.”

I don't hesitate to do as she tells me. I look over the trays of cupcakes, trying to count them, and giving up at twenty.

“Think we've got enough?”

“Well, at this rate, we've got four apiece.”

I shake my head with a grin. “Except I'm a six-cupcake kinda gal.”

She laughs. “Well, I've always said there are only two certain truths in this world. We're all gonna die, and you can never have too many cupcakes.”

“Kind of a good-news, bad news kind of scenario, huh?”

“Exactly. Well, I've got enough batter for another dozen or so. But in the meantime, it's time for the most important part of baking any cupcakes.”

“The eating?”

“...Okay, the second most important part. The frosting! What do you think we should go with?”

“Vanilla. No question.”

“Oh, interesting. I never pegged you for the traditional type.”

“What can I say? I like my burgers warm, my drinks cold, and my cupcakes vanilla.”

“Well, you're in luck. This place has the fanciest, creamiest, most incredible vanilla frosting I've ever tasted.”

She opens the cabinet and takes out two jars of frosting. The two of us get to work, using rubber spatulas to smooth the soft white frosting over the rounded tops of the cupcakes. Quinn applies the frosting with a practiced hand, creating elegant mounds.

“You bake a lot?”

“I used to when I was younger. My mom and I were home a lot, so we used to spend the whole day in the kitchen, whipping up pies and souffles and gigantic trays of cupcakes.” She smiles down at the cupcake she's frosting. “My dad would come home from work, and he'd pretend like he was so flustered every time. 'Darn it, you two! Where's my steak and potatoes! A man can't live on cupcakes alone!' ...Then when we weren't looking, he'd stuff himself silly.”

“Sounds like you had a pretty great childhood.”

“...Yeah...parts of it were...”

I apply the last stroke to my half of the cupcake pile and turn to her with a grin. “So...does the Frosting Assistant get a free sample?”

“Only because you were so cute when you asked.”

She hands me the cupcake she has just finished. I take a large bite. Fluffy sweetness fills my senses. The frosting melts across my tongue, blending with the soft, warm cake into a mush that is just sweet enough without being overpowering. I push the mush against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, savoring it before it dissolves and slides down my throat.

“That...might just be the best cupcake I've ever eaten.”

“Might be? Oh, no. That was definitely the best cupcake you've ever eaten.”

I laugh. “Okay, okay. If we had internet here, I would totally write Quinn's Cupcakes a five-star review.”

“When I was a kid, I dreamed of opening my own bakery. It was going to be called For Goodness Cake, and we'd serve nothing but cupcakes.”

“And would you personally bake every single one?”

“For you? Absolutely.” She turns to me with a smile. “Thank you for helping, Alodia. This was fun.”

Her smile makes me feel dreamy. “...Yeah...yeah, it was.”

Our eyes lock. For a moment, a delicate silence hangs over us. ...I realize what's about to happen only seconds before it does. I capture her open lips with mine, tracing the inside of her mouth with my vanilla-coated tongue. She winds her arms around me, slipping her hands under my shirt. I press forward, sliding her up onto the counter. My hand creeps under her shirt, drifting up to cup her breast. She moans softly against my mouth and I feel her legs wrap around me, pulling my hips against hers. I bite her lower lip gently, then let my mouth journey down her neck towards her collarbone. She arches her head back, grinding her hips against me.

“Oh, God...Alodia...”

“...Quinn...”

We're moving faster now as the hunger takes us. She tugs off my shirt and reaches under my bra to grip my breast. I unbotton her blouse and pull it open. Her mouth meets mine again. I slip the button of her shorts out of the buttonhole and tug down the zipper.

“What if someone sees us?” I murmur against her lips. Even as I ask the question, I'm slipping my hand into her shorts.

“I don't care,” she answers, gasping as my hand starts to move against her pubis. Her hips rise. “Oh, god...don't stop...”

“Not a chance in hell.” I move faster, grinning as she moans with pleasure.

There's a bang as the door swings open and Raj sweeps back in.

“Hey, guys. Just wanted to see how it was--” He cuts himself off with a yelp when he sees us. “Oh! Oh God! I didn't realize you two were...I didn't mean to...sorry!”

He turns and flees, leaving me and Quinn frozen.

From just outside, we hear Raj call, “I know you're supposed to cook with love, but I don't think they meant it so literally!”

Quinn and I lock eyes and dissolve into giggles. I ease my hand out of her shorts and help her off the counter.

“Oh, god...did you see his face?”

“I've never seen him so flustered!” She collapses against me, weak with laughter.

“We...should probably catch up with him...see if he needs any help with the party...”

“Yeah...we should...” She slides one hand down the back of my jeans and cups my buttock. “...in a few minutes...”

I grin, running my hands along her ribs. That's when I catch sight of the long, pale scar running the length of the right side of her torso. I pause for a moment, trailing my fingers along it.

When she realizes what I'm touching, she pulls back slightly, averting her eyes. “...Oh...that...it's weird, huh?”

I grin wryly. “No weirder than the ones I'm gonna have,” I say, touching the bandage over the claw wounds on my own ribs. “...How did you get it?”

“Surgery. I was in the hospital a lot growing up. But I'm better than ever now.”

Still, she tugs her blouse closed, hastily doing up the buttons.

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Oh, I'm not embarrassed. Actually, I kinda like it. It reminds me how, no matter what, I'm not going to let anything stop me from living my life.”

I smile at her. “...It's beautiful, Quinn. Really, it is.”

“...You're beautiful, Alodia. ...Should we go catch up with Raj? Or...?” Her eyes twinkle mischeivously. She slips one button back open.

I can still feel desire swirling in my belly, still feel fluttering between my legs. But another desire is overpowering it. I pull her into my arms, cradling her head against my shoulder.

“...Let's stay like this. Just for a few minutes.”

***

As evening falls, Raj calls us all out to the pool. A party playlists blasts out of the speakers, and tiki torches set up around the pool flicker with a beautiful ambient light. Two long tables have been pushed together and draped with a floral-printed oil tablecloth. And the length of the table is filled with a magnificant feast. I can smell sizzling roast pork, savory sauces, juicy fruits, and sweet desserts.

“Holy crap!” I cry. “I thought it smelled good in the kitchen!”

Diego laughs. “Allie, you're drooling.”

“Can I eat it all now? Please?”

Raj bounds over to us, grinning like a maniac. “I can't throw a ball or fly a plane, but you'd better believe I can cook a mean feast.”

I put my hands on his shoulders. “Eat. Now. Please.”

“Have a seat, everyone, and dig in.”

Diego and I make our way to the table, where most everyone is already seated. I slide into a seat beside Grace. I glance around the table, and my heart sinks a little as I realize that except for Diego and I, the table is still split with Jake's group on one side and Sean's on the other. Still, as we start in on the feast, tensions on our end of the table start to thaw.

“Ohhhh, goodness,” Grace sighs happily. “These coconut shrimp are divine.”

“You should try the pork,” Michelle says. “Raj really outdid himself.”

I murmur my agreement around a mouthful of cinnamon-dusted Caribbean fruit salad. I glance down at the other end of the table, where Sean and Jake sit across from each other. It seems that the closer it gets to that end of the table, the more tension remains.

“Pass the fries,” Sean demands.

“Grab 'em yourself,” Jake shoots back.

I look around for Raj, hoping he didn't hear that. But I don't see him. Then suddenly, he reappears, pushing a cart filled with drinks in a variety of glasses. As he makes his way around the table, placing one in front of each of us, I realize that no two people have been given the same drink. In front of me is something red in a champagne flute, topped with cherries and blackberries. Diego has something dark in a sugared martini glass.

Aleister eyes the greenish substance in his brandy glass warily. “Dare I ask what is happening here?”

“I have brought every single person a signature drink!” Raj replies. “One that I think is right for just them. Alodia found all the ingredients.”

“With a little help from some friends,” Zahra adds.

“Can we drink now?” Craig asks. “I wanna drink!”

“Dude, how?” Zahra groans. “It's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to yuke on the floor.”

“We can drink in a sec,” Raj promises. “But first, let me make a toast. Right now, we're sitting at this table, and every single one of us is holding a completely different drink. That's not just because I like mixing up cocktails. It's also a pretty good metaphor. When you look at us from a distance, we all look pretty different. And on the surface, we are. Jocks and nerds, hackers and bullies...well, you'd think none of us have anything in common.”

“...Who's the bully?” Craig asks.

Raj ignores him. “But that's just the surface, just the glass. Because deep inside, these drinks all have a lot in common. They're delicious. They're full of alcohol. And they were all made for one important purpose: to bring us together again.

“We all want to get off this island. We all want to get back to our homes, our families, our lives. But we're never going to accomplish that unless we can overcome our superficial difference and work together as a group. The fact is, everyone here has a role to play. Some of us are natural leaders, confident and assertive. Others are rebels, who test boundaries and find new solutions. Some of us are quiet, studying the way the world works. Others are loud and strong and they keep us all safe. And some of us...well, some of us are insanely cute blue foxes with crazy ice powers.”

Murphy trills happily from my lap. I hold up a piece of pork for him, which he eagerly snaps up.

“If we keep fighting,” Raj continues, “if we keep focusing on our differences, we're going to tear each other apart. But if we come together, if we focus on what we have in common, we can figure this mystery out. We can get off this island. And we can go home with a memory of the most amazing adventure of our lives. So what do you guys say? Can we come together for a toast?”

The table is quiet for a moment. Then, Sean raises his glass towards Jake.

“...To coming together.”

Jake is still for a moment. Then, he raises his own glass and taps it against Sean's.

“...To getting back home.”

I raise my own glass. “To Raj!”

He grins at me. “Aww, thanks, Alodia.”

All together, we raise our glasses and drink.

“Thank you for putting this together, Raj,” Sean says. “We needed it.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees. “This...this was nice.”

At last, all the tension that has gripped our group since last night finally dissolves. We're as lighthearted and jovial as on that first morning, sharing stories and telling jokes. Soon, we begin discussing the events of the day.

“So, Shooter, any luck radioing for help?”

“Not so much,” Sean admits. “Every radio signal I try just brings back static. It's like we're trapped in some kind of communication bubble.”

“It's clear this island is cut off from traditional communication channels. We'd need something more sophisticated.”

“Grace and I believe a satellite uplink could be a strong enough signal to get through the interference,” Aleister says.

“Wait...did you say a satellite uplink?” I ask. “I saw a note about that earlier today in the V.I.P. Lounge. It said there was a satellite uplink at some place called the L.H.O.”

“L.H.O...” Lila repeats thoughtfully. Then, she gasps. “The La Huerta Observatory! That does make sense. The Observatory is a state-of-the-art facility, with direct contact to Mr. Rourke's satellite relay. ...But we still don't know where the observatory is...”

“Uh...” Jake puts up a hand. “Would this be a good time to mention that when I was jet-skiing yesterday, I saw a big domed building with a giant telescope? Maybe seven miles north of here, up high on the slopes of the volcano.”

Stunned silence descends over the table. Diego finally breaks it.

“...I think we just figured out what we need to do next.”

***

The mood shifts after we realize our next move. But though the festive atmosphere dies down, the determination and purpose in the group now is invigorating. We all agree to get some rest and regroup in the morning to come up with a plan. Before going to bed, I help Raj wrap up the leftovers and put them into the fridge. Yawning, he suggests we leave the dishes until morning, but once he's gone, I start loading the dishes into the kitchen's three industrial dishwashers. Murphy finds a dry corner of the kitchen to curl up in and take a nap.

“Hey. Need a hand?”

I look up and find Sean standing in the door of the kitchen, smiling at me. I smile back.

“Wouldn't say no.”

He comes over and picks up a plate, using the knife and fork to scrape the remains into the garbage disposal.

“Seems like this could have waited until morning. You must be exhausted.”

I shrug. “I can't leave dirty dishes in the sink. It's like a pathological condition. Just ask Diego what I nightmare I am about dishes in our apartment. I can leave dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but if there are any in the sink, then I am probably seriously ill.”

He laughs. “Duly noted. If I ever visit your apartment and find dirty dishes in the sink, I'll call an ambulance.”

I snort, rinsing out a bowl before tucking it into the dishwasher. Sean is quiet for a moment.

“...Listen, Alodia...I'm sorry about what I said earlier.”

“...What did you say earlier?”

“At breakfast. When you told me to let Jake get a bagel and I said I thought you were better than that. I'm sorry for that. And all it implied.”

“...Oh. Well, I accept you're apology. But I was never really angry about that.”

“No...I kinda gathered you were angry with me before you accused me of acting like I was elected Supreme Leader.”

“That...might have been a little harsh of me.”

“Well, I was probably overreacting. ...Something about Jake seems to put my teeth on edge.”

“You have been pretty hard on him. ...And by extension, anyone who associated with him. That's why I was angry with you. You may have been directing your anger at Jake yesterday, but you were implicity yelling at my best friend, too.”  

“...And mine.”

“Well, Craig might have deserved it,” I admit. “But Diego didn't, all right? And neither did Quinn, or Jake for that matter. Quinn almost drowned before we got out of that shelter. Would you really fault her for wanting to relax and forget for a little while?”

“I suppose not...”

“And for all you accuse him of lying around and not helping, I don't think any of us would have left that shelter alive if not for Jake.”

“...Alodia...”

“I know he comes across all gruff and misanthropic, but I think there is more to Jake than you give him credit for.”

“What makes you say that?”

I pause for a moment, considering the question. Finally, I shrug. “People are complicated, Sean. There is more to most people than what meets the eye. Look...I've known a lot of people who put up fronts. Goofy fronts, grumpy fronts, even kind fronts. ...Or brave, noble fronts. First impressions are rarely the whole truth of a person.”

Sean is silent for a long moment. “...So...what's your story, Alodia?”

“...My story?”

“...I've seen you on campus, you know. I've noticed you.”

“...You have?”

“Yeah. ...I remember when I first saw you. Last fall, third game of the season. I was warming up on the field, and you were with the dance team, setting up a table on the sidelines.”

“Right...the dance team decided to sell bratwurst at the football games last fall as a fundraiser.”

“Yeah. ...And you were showing off some pretty impressive moves. I remember wondering why you weren't in a cheerleading uniform.”

I make a face. “Because all I would be doing then is cheering on the football team on the sidelines. I'd rather be center stage or competing myself.”

He chuckles. “Hey, no disrespect. You probably deserve to be center stage.”

“...So...you actually noticed me?”

“Yeah. ...And then I realized you were in my European history class.”

“Well, I am a history major.”

“I know. ...Alodia Chandler. History major, member of the dance team, and best friend of one Diego Ortiz Soto.”

“Those are my basic stats, yes.”

“Yeah, that's what I could find out by casually asking around.”

“...I'm embarrassed to admit that I didn't really know who you were before this trip...”

“Hey, I'm not mad or hurt. ...A little impressed, I admit...”

“...Yeah. I've since managed to gather that you're the star of the school. I...guess I didn't really have much reason to notice the football players...”

“So, who do you tend to notice?”

“Um...I don't know...people who put themselves in front of me, I guess.” I shrug. “...That probably makes me sound pretty self-centered, but...my world is pretty small. I don't actively push people away or anything, and people seem to like me. But getting close to me takes time. ...The easiest way to make friends with me is to get thrown in a metaphorical jar with me and shaken up.”

“Sounds like an easy way to become your enemy, too.”

“Well, yeah.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “That's a risk you take if you decide to throw yourself into my jar.”

“Well...at least it sounds like getting stuck on this island might work to my advantage in one way. If I actually have an opportunity to get a little closer to you.” At my startled glance, he seems to realize what he just said. He clears his throat. “I mean...get to know you better.”

“Yeah...”

He is silent for a long moment.

“...Maybe that's why I got so worked up over Jake.”

“What's why?”

“Jealousy. I see now he's put himself in front of you. Got himself noticed. Guiding you through the shelter...saving you from the exploding plane...basically being your hero...”

“Does that idea appeal to you? Because frankly, I'm not hoping to meet another sabertooth tiger or exploding plane...”

“No, Alodia. I'm not wishing any danger on you. That's the last thing I want.”

“...You don't have to save me from anything to get yourself noticed. I'm noticing you now.”

He grins. “As I save you from mental strife at the thought of a sink full of dirty dishes.”

“Okay, I admit that's pretty heroic.”

“...Alodia...when all this is over...when we get home...I'd like to see about taking you out sometime.”

It's my turn to be silent for awhile. I think of Quinn and our escapades in the kitchen, though somehow they aren’t enough to make me turn him down on the spot. I have to admit I am surprised to think he might be jealous of Jake. I can’t deny that the pilot is attractive, of course. And I suppose he and I do seem to be on the same page most of the time, but I would chalk that up to us having similar personalities more than anything. On the other hand, Diego seems to think Jake is into me, and he isn’t often wrong about that sort of thing... 

“...We'll see, okay, Sean?” I say at last. “...I know it wasn't that long ago that you and Michelle broke up.”

“...True...”

“And in the meantime, we've got to think about getting off this island. But...when this is all over, and we're back home...” I smile at him. “I'm guessing I won't mind if you take me out sometime.”

* * *

We finish the dishes and ride the elevator together up to the penthouse floor. We say goodnight and head into our rooms. Murphy follows at my heels, immediately jumping up onto my bed. Between the food, drinks, and the dizzying conversation with Sean over the dishes, I am surprised by my ability to shower, put on pajamas, and brush my teeth. But there is one more thing that I still manage to do before dropping off.

I pull out my phone and load up the picture I took of the frying pan Raj showed me. Then I pull out the dossiers I had hidden under my mattress. When I look at Raj's page, my heart begins to pound.

...The sigal stamped on his page is the same that was on the frying pan.

I turn my eyes towards the window. Suddenly, I feel exposed. Vulnerable. I leap out of bed and yank the curtains closed, but the feeling does not subside. Somehow, I feel certain that someone or something is out there, watching me.

[stories-and-sails]

Marmageddon: The Paranormal Romance No One Wanted (An Excerpt)

“I've tried to tell this story a thousand ways. When you get to my age…” “You're twenty-four.” “Ahem. When you get to my age, you realize that stories aren't as simple and straightforward as they seem.” “You're not my grandpa. Cut to the chase.”

It started when that marmot bit me. I mean, obviously that's how it started. He was underneath my truck when I—well, that part isn't important. It started when that marmot bit me, and the first full moon after that, I transformed into a marmot. I'll spare you the denial and disbelief. I mean, would you believe it if you woke up in the body of a rodent, lying in the middle of your front lawn in a pool of decapitated grasses, hands and face smeared with mud? I had become a monster. I had become the thing I feared most.

“You’re being extreme,” “You can't understand. You're not were.” “And you're not a were-wolf. You didn't bite anyone or maul any innocent villagers.” “Still. The shock. The horror. Like I said, I'll spare you the details about coming to terms with who I had become. It wasn't pretty. In time, I’ve come to accept myself. That I have appetites for things that normal men don't.” “Oh my gosh, Hunter. People eat vegetables all the time.” “Rabbit food. It's not natural.” “Are you going to tell the story, or are you going to keep being ridiculous?”

You have to understand that when you first become a were-marmot, the changes aren't voluntary. You can be in the middle of driving your truck, and hear a strange noise, and BAM, you've got your little marmot paws clinging onto the steering wheel and no way to reach the brakes. Or you'll be in the middle of scurrying into the burrow when suddenly you get this funny feeling in your gut and WHAM, you're raising the roof. Literally. That's a problem for people like us, of course. Lot of the new guys don't ever make it through the first few months.

It wasn't like I could just call into work for four months straight. And who was I supposed to tell? “Hey can you come check in on me at the house? Might turn into a marmot and not be able to reach the door handles.” No. This was the kind of thing I had to handle on my own. 

So there I was at work, standing out by the shed with the guys and waiting to see if the rain was going to let up or get worse, but then I saw this marmot running through the field. Every now and then he'd stand back on his haunches and wave his little paws in the air like he was trying to get our attention. Shoot. I knew right away it was Swiftpaw. They would have sent him to warn me, but only if there was a real problem. The guys were starting to notice that something weird was going on, and worse, Emma had decided he looked tasty. 

“Emma,” I said, leaning down next to her ears. “Calm down, girl. That's a friend, not a food.” But her eyes were fixed on him, and she was getting that crazy predator glint in them. Maybe I could have gotten her to calm down, only at that moment, I felt a weird twinge in my gut. Not a “shouldn't have eaten those pickled eggs” twinge. A transformation twinge. 

“Uh,” I grunted. “I gotta..” I started running for the corner of the building, hoping I'd get there before I shrunk enough to notice, especially since all the guys had turned around to watch me run, laughing and calling encouragement. For all they knew, I’d been making an awful lot of sprints to the bathroom lately. You're wondering about my clothes, right? When I told you that I kept transforming in the middle of daily activities, you wondered what happened to my clothes every time. This is what: I ran right out of my shoes first, and then collapsed, writhing as fur sprouted from every inch of my body and my teeth and snout elongated. When it was over, I was surrounded on all sides by denim. I've chewed my way out of more pairs of pants than most folks have. 

I managed to wiggle out of this pair without chewing and dragged them to a corner where I hoped they’d go unnoticed by the guys. I didn't want to answer the questions if they found every article of clothing I wore that day dropped on the floor of the shop. Again. 

After wrestling around with my clothes like that, I'd lost some time, so I scooted on out to see if Swiftpaw was still in the field.

I stood up on my hind legs and sniffed the air, sensing the many details that human noses just don't get. Not to put too fine a point on it, but there are a lot of different poop scents around a farm. A whole mosaic of them, really. But I didn't have long to stop and smell the, uh, roses. Emma had chased Swiftpaw to the top of a fencepost and was leaping around, barking her head off. Most of the guys were just standing there laughing. At least Hinkley was trying to call Emma off whenever he managed to catch his breath. 

This was going to call for a decoy run. 

Letting out a chittering whoop, I scurried down the hill. 

You notice how fast marmots are when you hunt them. I've noticed it before. They’re fast. They boogie. But you don't realize until you've been one of them how fast it feels to go flying over the ground, the long grass whipping against your cheek pouches, paws barely skimming the earth.

“Okay, you're not a thoroughbred racehorse, either.” “Well. No. But it feels really fast, okay?” “Sure. So you were sprinting majestically across the field.”

To rescue my friend from Man's Best Friend. Right.

Luckily, Emma seemed to think that a sprinting target was even more fun than a fixed one, and she ran after me, which gave Swiftpaw enough time to get down from the fencepost and make for the burrow. 

Unfortunately, Emma seemed to think the sprinting target was more fun than the fixed one, and within seconds she was hot on my heels. 

“No!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Emma! Bad dog. No chase. Go home.” I swear I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, even though I didn't speak with my human voice. It was almost like she knew who I was. Which would have been impressive if she hadn't watched me transform in front of her own eyes about fourteen times since I'd been infected.

“Emma!” I shouted. “It's me! I buy you dog food and let you sleep in my bed. Do not kill me.”

Her momentary confusion bought me enough time to scoot my butt into the burrow, and she couldn't follow. She sniffed and scratched around the entrance for a few moments, and several of the marmots in the little burrow turned to give me irritated looks.

“Sorry,” I offered. “She followed me home.”

Loosetooth's head popped into the room. “Hunter. You're here. We sent Swiftpaw to warn you of the danger.”

I grimaced. “Yeah. Maybe next time he should—you know, kind of sneak around the back instead of running up doing semaphore signals.”

She waved away my suggestion. “There's no time for subtlety now. Rumor has it the Marmoth has been spotted to the east.”

I chill ran through my fur, even though I didn't know what she was talking about. “The what?”

“The Marmoth” she repeated solemnly. I saw several of the nearby marmots pause to look at her, their eyes seeking confirmation. 

“It cannot be,” one of them said in a hushed whisper.

“We believe that it is true. That the Marmoth has returned,” she turned back to me, and I could see that her fur was standing on end and her eyes were huge in fear. “The Marmoth is like you and I. He once was human and now is marmot. But he is—really, really large.”

“Okay…”

“He never settled between human and marmot. Instead, he is caught between. A marmot the size of a man.”

“Okay…” I repeated. I was waiting for, something scary. Like, he was really big and could shoot snakes out his nose. Or, he was really big and had an army of snakes. Or, he was really big and—

“Well. Don't you see?”

I squinted. “Uh, no? You're saying he's the size of a human. But so am I, most of the time.”

She dismissed this too. “I should have known one of the new pups would not understand the danger we face from the Marmoth. But rest assured, those of us who remember know the danger. He destroyed more than one den when last he passed through.”

Murmurs of agreement spread around the group, and several of them were looking at me with expressions of disgust. 

“Okay, okay!” I held my paws up in front of my chest. “He's a big deal. We need to chase him off. Is that right?”

I'd made the mistake one time of saying that I could shoot something while I was in my human form, and the entire marmot community had shunned me for a week. It left me feeling strangely bereft. I'd put my gun in the back of the closet and replaced “shoot” in my vocabulary with “chase off.” Where it was appropriate, I mean. I wasn't about to go ask the guys if they wanted to chase off some pool. There was a lot of context involved with switching between forms like I did all the time. 

Anyway, the marmots looked at me like this was a really shocking suggestion. “You wouldn't say that if you'd met him. If you'd seen what he could do. What he has done.”

How scary could some oversized rodent be? I wasn't trying to downplay their fear, but I was pretty sure my colony could “chase him off” if need be. “You speak of what you do not know,” she intoned. “Go home. You will see the devastation there.”

That was enough to make me want to human back up, but I couldn't just flip the switch. Besides, I was still stuck in the middle of the burrow, and I needed to scoot on out of there before turning back into a human. 

“Great,” I said. “I'll see you there.”

I'll be honest. When I first turned, I didn't think I was going to get too involved in the inner workings of the marmot people. I mean, they were animals, and I was a human, so what could we possibly have in common? But it's a lonely thing, being a were-marmot. Even your own dog will turn against  you, and eventually you start turning to the company of those like you. Or like you in some way. Within the marmot colonies, there were a lot of folks that were pure marmot, never human. There were a number of were who, once they could actually control the shifting, chose to stay marmot most of the time. There were those of us who'd been made through an infected bite, and were-marmots that had been born because their parents were were. We didn't all have the same view on everything, but they understood better what I was dealing with than any of the full-time humans I knew. None of them had even heard of were-marmots. So even if my colony was a little extreme sometimes, and even if they did like to eat unspeakable things, I liked them. If this Marmoth was a danger to them, I couldn’t take it lightly.

“Were they right? When you got home, I mean, was it as devastating as they said it would be?” ... “Hunter? Hunter, are you okay? You're kind of spacing out.” “Oh. Oh, right. I was just remembering.”

[adampage]

Eddie | AJ Styles

 Pairing: AJ Styles x OFC (Maria), AJ x Eddie (the cat)

“This might be weird, and I totally get if it’s not poss 😆, but maybe one where [AJ] realises cats are awesome and he shldn’t hate them?? Is that too weird?” - @we-work-hard

Word Count: 1,950

Tagging: @we-work-hard / @llowkeys / @unabashedwwesmut / @kingslayers-angel / @p1-fanfiction / @ajstylesworld / @the-geekgoddes / @xxmaddhatter39xx / @justrae9903 / @reigns420 / @xstylesxclashx / @gurimujox / @p0tat0catofwesteros / @toosweetme / @your-darkdiva / @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues / @welshwitch5

Author’s Note: I’m taking requests! This was nearly too easy to write. I basically took the relationship between my dad and my cat Tito (may he rest in peace) and got this from it. So, I’m dedicating this to Tito. I love you and I miss you, my dear sweet gentleman. 💙

She remembered the moment he showed up on her doorstep. Literally. Not AJ, obviously - guys don’t just show up on people’s doorsteps, hold on, never mind - but Eddie, her cat. He was black and white down the middle and on three of his legs, as if he wore a tuxedo everywhere he went, with pink paw beads and an even pinker nose and gorgeous yellow-green eyes. When she picked him up, he was all muscle, toned and strong, but seemingly chubby, too. Basically, the most adorable cat you’d ever see in your life. He showed up one day, rolling around in front of Maria’s house, begging to be touched. Okay, so, maybe AJ and Eddie had more in common than they liked to think. 

Eddie, ever the gentleman and ever patient, remained outside until Maria allowed him in, after weeks of her leaving food outside and water for him to slurp, when she noticed that someone had injured him near his tail, and she wasn’t just going to let the poor kitty deal with his injury on his own if being outside meant he was prone to infection.

She managed to coax him into a pet carrier and took him to the vet, where the vet told her they’d have to give Eddie stitches, recommending also for him to stay indoors and to take antibiotics every day. Needless to say, he was hers, and Maria didn’t mind it one bit. Fast forward months later, she’s in a relationship with AJ Styles. She also met him while he was dressed in a tux, at a mutual friend’s wedding. They caught each other’s eye; he made the first move. They got to talking, and she instantly fell in love with that southern drawl of his. But she didn’t want to let him think she was too interested, so she left the wedding as soon as her friend and her new husband left the party early for their honeymoon in the Bahamas. He showed up at her doorstep the next day, begging her to let him in, and she happily obliged from that day on. The only problem was, Eddie and AJ didn’t get along. Well, AJ didn’t get along with Eddie. Eddie was too sweet to let a strong man like AJ get the better of him.

Maria chop chop chopped at the onions, chewing a piece of gum, the knife hitting the green cutting board with a thud, thud, thud. “Maria.” Came the southern drawl, all too different from the way her parents would call to her. Her name on his lips was kinder, with less of an edge. Though, he somehow sounded distressed all the same. “Yes, AJ.” “This gosh darn cat won’t leave me alone.” Sure enough, she peered down near AJ’s legs to find Eddie, purring away. AJ sighed, exasperated. “Did I mention how much I hate cats?” “Dios mío, AJ, if you pet him, he’ll leave you alone!” “But I don’t want to pet him.” He huffed, crossing his arms like a little boy throwing a temper tantrum. “Then by all means, AJ, he’s going to keep bothering you.” Realizing his one and only defense against the furry beast wasn’t going to help, AJ raised his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes. “Okay, but he better leave me alone after this.” And Eddie did. For a little while, anyway.

You see, AJ had big, strong, wide hands. They were a whole heck of a lot bigger than Maria’s, and Eddie liked it rough. He loved the feeling of AJ’s hands raking across his fur, then padding it down and petting him in just the right manner. It was downright pleasurable, is what it was. He just couldn’t get enough. And when Eddie realized that AJ took fifteen minutes longer in the bathroom than Maria did, it sealed the deal. The distinctive sound of AJ grunting onto the toilet to settle down for the next quarter of an hour drove Eddie from any hiding place in any part of the house. As soon as AJ sat down, Eddie’s perky little monkey tail came running past the bathroom door. “Damn you, you cunning little devil,” AJ said, after the umpteenth time he had to keel over and pet the little fucker so he’d leave him in peace. “I hate you.” Eddie’s response was a sweet little squeak of a meow, hardly even audible, as if to say, “Who? Me?” And Maria would waltz into the bathroom on accident, to the dismay of both cat and man. “Maria, it’s bad enough he’s in here when I’m trying to do something private. I can’t have both of you in here. Come on, now,” AJ whined, shooing her away, to her delighted, “OKAY, okay, jeez.” She left, but not before turning around to catch the glimpse of a smile on AJ’s face as he reached for his boy.

AJ finally began to understand Eddie one fine day in June. It was blistering hot, the air conditioning was out, and he and Maria were both cramped in her tiny kitchen the color of sunshine, cooking some sort of Colombian dish. His blue sleeveless tank was soaked all down his back, and he had his hair pulled up in a bun. It was days like these that he wished he had the heart to shave off all his scruff, but he knew Maria loved it. “Chop this for me.” “Ooookay.” AJ stepped back from the counter to grab a knife from the cutlery drawer, when he felt something under his foot- “YEOWWWWWWWWWW!” A blur of black and white dashed from the kitchen, disappearing under the living room sofa. “AJ, what did you do?!” Maria screamed. “I ain’t done shit,” he yelled, “it’s this damn cat’s tail done went under my feet!” “Well, did you apologize?” Maria retorted accusingly. “Maria, it’s a cat, it don’t need no goddamned apology.” She sighed, unwilling to push the argument any further.

Later that day, AJ went to the bathroom. As he settled in, he heard the ever familiar pitter patter of bounding paws running down the stairs above him, the monkey tail stopping in its tracks as it walked through the door. Eddie took one look at AJ and ran right back out of the bathroom. AJ couldn’t believe his eyes. The godforsaken cat was holding a grudge. A fucking grudge. A cat. Holding a grudge. A cat that holds grudges. Whaa? He found Maria settled into bed, reading glasses on the tip of her crooked nose as she flipped the pages of her favorite book, The Tale of Despereaux. He slipped under the thin covers from his side of her bed, watching her for a few moments. He wanted to mention Eddie, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was a damn cat, for goodness’ sake. Why should he care what a cat thinks about him, anyway? So he just lay there, arm behind his head, staring out into her bedroom. “What is it?” She finally asked. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?” AJ responded defensively, curious and not really sure if he even wanted to mention what was wrong just yet. “You’ve been laying next to me for three minutes and you haven’t bothered to cuddle me. That is very un-AJ.” He frowned. Was he really that obvious? “And Eddie hasn’t bothered to come cuddle me in bed, either, very un-Eddie, which means whatever’s going on is between the two of you.” AJ let out a breath. Okay, so everything about this was pretty damn obvious. “He came when I went to the bathroom and then he left when he saw me.” The he was clear. “That’s because he resents you, AJ. You hurt his feelings and his tail.” “It was an accident!” He defended. “So tell him it was an accident and go apologize.” “First off, I don’t see why I should go apologize to a damn cat.” Maria sighed, exhausted that she had to mediate between these two idiots. She took off her glasses and placed them on the bedside table, along with her book which she meticulously dog eared to remember her place. Pinche hombre no entiende que los gatos son igual que los humanos. “If you stepped on my foot, would you say sorry?” Her tone carried an edge to it that AJ himself would never be able to master. “Yes.” He whispered, arms crossed, clearly in disdain for where this conversation was going. “What else would you do?” He smiled sweetly. “Anything for you, darlin’.” “Nice try. What else would you do?” He huffed, but answered anyway. “Probably give you a massage to butter you up.” “All right, there’s your answer. Go do those exact things to Eddie.” “What? Are ya kiddin’ me? Maria, come on.” She gave him the death glare she inherited from her mother. “Did I fucking stutter?” “N-no,” he grumbled, stumbling out of bed. “Fine. Okay.” AJ found himself in the living room, turning on a lamp. He scanned the room for any sign of a black and white, and found Eddie’s shadow behind the curtains over the clear patio doors. Eddie’s ears perked up at the sound of AJ’s footfalls. They were heavier than Maria’s, but they seemed to be moving quicker. Eddie barely got up and bounded away before AJ’s hands reached out to where he was sleeping. “So this is how it’s going to be?” AJ muttered. AJ walked back through the bedroom door, shoulder slumped. “Maria, this cat won’t let me not five feet near ‘im.” “I’ll help you.” It was getting hot under those sheets, anyway. “His problem is with you, not me, so he’ll let me grab him.” It took them another ten minutes to finally find him. He had run upstairs, hidden behind the guest bed. Maria had brought a bag of kitty treats to lure him out with, and then she grabbed him, holding him gently in her arms. AJ was hiding just outside, waiting for her to bring him. “Look at my big, strong, manly gentle man,” she cooed at Eddie, petting him softly on his tummy. Eddie’s nose dug under her arm as she complimented and pampered him, clearly being lulled into a sense of security. AJ fought back the urge to get jealous of the way Maria was talking to him, knowing that if he made so much as a noise the cat would realize what was going on. When Eddie began to purr, Maria quickly walked through the door and handed him to AJ, who began to massage and pet Eddie with his strong, wide hands. Eddie struggled beneath his grasp, but AJ wouldn’t let go. “I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for hurting your tail, I’m sorry,” AJ chanted, continuing to massage him for what felt like hours and hours but was only mere minutes. “It’ll never happen again, I promise, I’ll watch where I’m going, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” When AJ noticed Eddie no longer struggled in his grasp, but was purring incessantly, he heaved with a sigh of relief, and let the furry being go. Eddie ran away, tail curved and delighted. Maria laughed. “So how are we sure that it worked?” AJ grinned. “Guess I need to visit the bathroom.” They descended the stairs, Maria stopping at their bed and tucking herself in, AJ lumbering towards the bathroom. As Maria drifted off to sleep, she heard the heavy little pawfalls of Eddie racing down the stairs, dropping himself at the foot of his master’s throne, and the subsequent, “there ya are, little guy” that escaped AJ’s lips.

[petseeds-blog]

How Coconut Oil Benefits Your Dog's Health

Dear Pet lovers, Do you know how to cure your dogs with coconut oil? You can use the coconut oil for external treatment of the skin or for internal treatment such as dietary supplement. Today we are going to share 13 most important facts about coconut oil and how you use for better health of your dogs. So, without wasting time lets discuss the health benefits of coconut oil for dogs.

Health Benefits From Coconut Oil for Dogs

- For a shiny coat

Natural coconut oil lets the coat of your dog shine. His coat is softer and therefore it is easier to comb.

For this, you should rub a pea-walnut-sized amount in your palm and massage into the coat. In the beginning, you should do the treatment two or three times a week. After that is enough once a week.

Also, you can fill the oil in a spray bottle. Before each use, briefly, heat the spray bottle in a water bath to make the solid liquid.

Spray the body of your dog with it. Then you can message him in. The treatment with the spray can make the oil on the body easier and more evenly distributed.

- Scaly skin, fungus, rashes, and wounds

Coconut oil can have a healing effect on dry skin, sore areas, and skin fungus.

Take a nail tip from the oil and apply it directly to the affected areas.

For dried wounds, you can use the oil calming several times a day. It has an antibacterial effect and inhibits the risk of ignition. You can also treat dried surgical scars with it.

If the paws are too dry or cracked, you can clean the paws first after walking with lukewarm water. Then you take a pea-sized amount of coconut oil into the palm of your hand and rub the bales of your dog with it.

The oil penetrates the skin and protects especially in winter against the weather, side effects of road salt, etc.

Overview:

Works on eczema, flea allergies, contact dermatitis, and itching

Reduces allergic reactions and improves the health of the skin

Makes the skin and coat smoother, shinier

Softens the body odor

Prevents and counteracts fungal infections, including Candida

Disinfects wounds and promotes their faster healing

Protects against fleas, ticks, and mites

Soothes and heals dry and cracked paws

- Mouth, eye, and ears

Bad breath in your dog is a sign that he has too many bacteria in his mouth. With proper dental care and regular checks at the vet, you can eliminate this problem.

Here the coconut oil is a real savior. For your dog's dental care, mix a small amount of coconut oil under his toothpaste and rub tooth and gums with a toothbrush or with a fingerstall. This prevents bad breath and prevents inflammation in the mouth.

It also helps with eye and ear infections. Make the oil liquid (in a water bath) and use as eye or ear drops.

- For more liveliness and a strong immune system

The coconut oil as a dietary supplement gives older dogs in particular more liveliness and strengthens their immune system.

An inner treatment makes your dog less susceptible to worms. It also ensures a healthy nervous system and good brain function. It also helps to prevent dementia.

Dosage: A daily ration of half a teaspoon per 10 kg body weight is enough to strengthen your dog's immune system. You can add the oil to the food.

In the beginning, it is advisable to start with 1/4 of the recommended amount. So you can avoid it, that the feces too soft. If your dog has tolerated the initial rations well, you can gradually increase them to the recommended amount.

Overview:

Contains antibacterial, antiviral and antifungal agents that protect against infections and diseases

Can reduce cancer risk

Regulates insulin levels and can help prevent diabetes or help keep it under control

Promotes normal thyroid function

Increases the life energy and helps to reduce the weight

- For strong joints and muscle

The fatty acids in coconut oil kill microorganisms responsible for joint diseases such as arthritis and arthrosis. They also make a big contribution to strengthening the bones.

Here a coconut oil cure of four weeks is recommended to reduce the infections and pain.

Dosage: Daily 10 ml coconut oil per 10 kg body weight. Start with a smaller ration to avoid diarrhea. If your dog tolerates the oil well, you can gradually adjust the ration to the recommended dosage.

- Against worms and intestinal parasites

For natural deworming, you can daily mix the coconut oil under the food (1TL per 10 kg body weight).

Worms and other intestinal parasites thus find no support in the intestine and your dog can excrete them naturally.

Strong worm infestation, however, you should clarify with your veterinarian.

- Coconut oil against ticks

Ticks at a glance

There are around 800 types of ticks in the world. Of these, 19 are located in Germany.

The brown dog ticks, colored sticks, and common wood buck are generally the ticks that infest our dogs.

They like to stay in damp and shady places. That is why they are generally found in the undergrowth, on wet uncultivated meadows, and near water. They do not attack our four-legged friends from a tree or bush but stay near the ground. As soon as our pets pass by with their fur, the ticks on the body jump our darlings.

Ticks often transmit pathogens between the hosts when stinging due to their lifestyle, without, however, becoming ill themselves. These are more types of pathogens than any other parasitic group of animals.

People are also affected by conditions such as Lyme disease, tick-borne encephalitis (TBE), babesiosis, ehrlichiosis, rickettsioses or neuro ehrlichiosis.

Ticks are very sturdy, they also survive low temperatures, which means there is a risk of being bitten throughout the year.

Not only can you transmit dangerous diseases to your dog, but you can also be affected as well.

One of these dangerous diseases is Lyme disease. It can be very tedious because it is often unrecognized or diagnosed too late. The Lyme disease can only be determined by a targeted search of the pathogen.

For a long time in conventional medicine, only the tick was known as the transmitter of Lyme disease. In the meantime, mosquitoes, brakes, and other insects are also mentioned as possible carriers.

Symptoms of Lyme Disease:

Redness of the skin at the bite site

fever

drowsiness

anorexia

apparent signs of a summer flu

With these symptoms, you should absolutely visit your veterinarian!

Protective measures against ticks and vermin

In order to protect you from these bites and stings while you are in the field, meadow and forest, you must wear long-sleeved outerwear and long trousers. Also, you should wear solid shoes. The socks or knee socks should be pulled over the pants legs.

Unfortunately, there are no exceptions or alternatives in the summertime and can make your life difficult.

The second protective measure for you and your dog are chemical insect repellents. For your dog, there are collars or drops that you drip on the neck of your dog. The ingredients contained in it penetrate the skin through the bloodstream and provide protection against stings or bites.

To provide reliable protection, these products must be used regularly.

Unfortunately, that means that your dog is being burdened with chemical agents. As we all know, these remedies also have a number of side effects. So it is better to look for natural alternatives.

Of course, you can check your dog's body, especially on ticks, after each walk, and carefully pull it out with a pair of ticks. In animals with a particularly dense coat, however, it can happen very often that you choose one or two ticks. Therefore, additional protective measures must be taken in any case.

Here Mother Nature comes to our aid: coconut oil against ticks & Co.

Coconut oil against ticks, fleas, mites & Co.

Ticks - including mites and fleas - can literally "not smell" the ingredient Lauric acid in coconut oil. As soon as they notice the smell, they take flight.

So that you can protect your dog well from these annoying "guests", you should rub immediately before each walk his belly, head, legs, neck, and ears with coconut oil. Depending on the size of your dog, a maximum of one walnut-sized amount is sufficient. You can even distribute the coconut oil with the help of a spray bottle on the body of your dog and then rub in.

Please note that coconut oil is a natural remedy and therefore does not have the same duration of action as a chemical. If you are planning a multi-hour trip with your dog, it makes sense to take the oil with you. So you can treat it with it too if your trip takes longer.

If your dog has ear mites, you can soak a cloth or cotton wool in liquid coconut oil and gently wipe the mites out of the ears.

What to do if a tick, despite protective measures yet bitten?

You must not use coconut oil here. The tick would transfer to the puncture site and thus transfer much more bacteria into the bloodstream of your dog than normally.

Here you have to deal with the tick with a ticks tongs. The faster you remove the tick, the harder it will be for the bacteria to get into the bloodstream. Because the bacteria take about two to twelve hours until they have spread in the body of your dog.

Make sure you have pulled out the tick completely. So be careful and slow. After you have removed the tick, you can disinfect the injection site with a little alcohol.

Again as a reminder: Should the injection site have reddened, swollen or become hot, you should immediately visit your vet. This is also true if you could not pull out the tick completely!

- The benefit of natural preservatives such as coconut oil for dogs

Of course, the commercially available preservatives are effective and have a longer duration of action than natural remedies. However, these are chemical agents, some of which contain highly toxic pesticides.

The intolerance and dependent reactions in our pets are therefore constantly increasing. Ticks and pests have also developed some resistance to these poisons.

In contrast, Lauric acid in coconut oil is a medium-chain fatty acid that helps to fight off harmful insects. Laboratory tests of the FU Berlin showed that between 81 and 100 percent of the ticks were already deterred by a solution with only 10% Lauric acid.

Even in humans, the solution seemed daunting. When the ticks were deliberately placed on the pretreated skin of the subjects, the animals dropped immediately. The protective action of Lauric acid persisted for over six hours.

- Healing wounds faster

Treating small wounds and scrubbed areas with coconut oil will help them heal faster and scars will rarely be left behind. Apply a small amount of oil directly to the dried wound, quiet several times a day. The fatty acids have an antibacterial effect and prevent inflammation. Even dried surgical scars can be treated with coconut oil.

- Against mites and fleas

The fatty acids of coconut oil attack the chitin layer of parasites and kill them in this way. Coconut oil also helps preventively, because the smell of fatty acids keeps vermin away. The dog fur is best maintained regularly with coconut oil. If your dog has ear mites, soak a cloth in liquid coconut oil and gently wipe the mites out of the ears.

Strong infestation should always be clarified by the veterinarian.

- To brush your teeth and for bad breath

For tooth care, mix a small amount of coconut oil under the dog toothpaste, which dispels bad breath and prevents inflammation in the mouth. To brush your four-legged friend use special dog toothbrushes or finger cots.

- For paw care not only in winter

Clean the paws with lukewarm water after the walk, rub a little coconut oil in the palms of the hands and massage into the dog's balls. The oil penetrates the skin and protects against the effects of the weather, road salt and snow and ice. Its antibacterial agents heal small wounds in the paws and burst bales faster.

- What should I pay attention to when buying?

Make sure that coconut oil is a BIO product. Many of the commercially available coconut oils have been processed, heated or filtered for too long. Thus, Lauric acid or vitamin E is no longer present in these oils.

Other oils (such as palm oil) enriched with coconut scent are also sold as coconut oil.

Although Palin is made from coconut oil, it does not have the same effect as the coconut oil itself. The Palmin is too much treated to lose its effect against ticks.

The following properties should definitely be clearly stated on the package:

Unrefined

Natively

Cold-pressed

An indication of Lauric acid (should be at least 50%)

Organic Certified / Proven Origin

Also, it is advisable to make sure that the oil is offered in a glass container, rather than in plastic jars.

My Conclusion on Coconut Oil for Dogs

Whether as an insect repellent, dietary supplement or for skin care. Keeping a jar of it at home will not hurt either you or your dear friend in any case. Quite apart from all the good qualities coconut oil hides in order to boost your dog's health and vitality: As a change to a treat, your dog will surely enjoy a little massage.

In his looks and his attitude, you will definitely discover the balloons-hearts, which he will let rise for you in the sky, while you spoil him with a message.

[stiles-wtf]

8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Chances are good your dog will suffer an injury to one of his paws in his lifetime. After all, he walks all over them. Our goal is to prevent dog paw problems when possible, detect potential problems early, and know when we can treat at home or when it’s necessary to beat feet (excuse the pun) to the vet.

I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, most recently a six-week trip to South America. While at Machu Picchu and in the Galapagos Islands, I was amazed to see locals walking barefoot along thorny paths, on sharp rocks and through burning hot sand. I’m a tender foot and worry about stepping on a single pebble or hot sand.

But what about pets? Contrary to what some might think, a dog paw isn’t constructed of the same thing bulletproof vests are made of. Despite this, many of us seem to think nothing of our dogs walking over paths filled with stickers and burrs, across sun-baked pavement, or across jagged sheets of ice. While Mother Nature designed dog paws to “take a licking and keep on ticking,” they can still get cuts, scrapes, burns and frostbite.

1. Do a weekly dog paw check

Do a weekly dog paw check to ensure your dog’s paws stay healthy. Photography by Tierney MJ / Shutterstock.

When a dog starts to limp, most people will take a good look at the feet to see what’s wrong. But get in the habit of looking at each foot weekly.

Get down on the floor, or do it with your dog in your lap. Look at the top and the bottom of the foot, between the toes, the foot pads, between the foot pads and check the nails. Look for redness, swelling, tenderness, bleeding or signs of irritation. Press gently on the pads, around the toes, and on the nail bed. If your dog winces, whimpers, or pulls away like it’s causing discomfort, look closer. The three things I’d be most suspicious of are foreign bodies (slivers, weed seeds, gum), cuts, or signs that the dog has been licking her paws (wet and red underneath the feet or brown on top from saliva staining.

2. Watch out for burrs

If your pets are ever in the weeds, it’s easy for a dog paw to pick up burrs or awns (think cheatgrass or foxtails) between their toes. Those plant invaders can quickly burrow their way inside the foot and literally end up all over the body. I recommend daily dog paw checks if your dog is around these heinous hitchhikers. If it’s a burr, you may need to trim a little hair or apply mineral oil to get it out. For awns, I use a pair of needle nose pliers.

3. Do regular dog paw trims

It’s common for long-haired dogs to develop mats between the dog paw foot pads, which can chafe and cause irritation. In the summer, we trim the hair between all of our dogs’ feet to prevent this and make it easier to see foreign bodies like grass awns.

4. Keep dog paws dry

A dog paw may become irritated from too much moisture. After your dog comes in from a swim or a romp in the wet grass, dry his feet off with a towel. Sometimes the excess moisture comes from incessant licking if he has a bacterial or fungal infection that itches (think of how athlete’s foot drives us crazy!). I’m a big fan of weekly baths for pets, and I encourage you to put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the sink or tub, and add some Epsom salt in the water.

5. Treat painful dog paw cracks

On the other hand, dog paw dryness is an issue, too. For years I’ve recommended Musher’s Secret, a wax that moisturizes, lubricates (to prevent snow or ice balls from forming), and forms a breathable bond with paws. It doesn’t take long to soak in; I put it on about once a month year-round. But don’t use it too often: If pads are too soft, they’ll be more prone to injury.

6. Ban the burn

Concrete sidewalk. Photography by 3445128471 / Shutterstock.

I can’t tell you how many cases of burned dog paws I’ve seen from pet owners who walked their dog on hot asphalt or concrete. My rule of thumb: If the surface is too hot for the palm of your hand, it’s too hot for a dog paw!

7. Salt on dog paws also spells out problems

In the winter, salt or other deicers can really wreak havoc on your canine’s four-wheel drive, as they irritate and dry the feet. After our dogs have been out for a walk where they might have tromped across and in these offending substances, we simply dip their feet in a large plastic drinking glass and towel dry.

8. Get rid of dog paw gunk on the regular

Imagine all the icky-sticky stuff that’s on the ground and gets walked on. Chewing gum, tree sap, motor oil, antifreeze, tar — the list goes on. To clean these off of a dog paw, use a little Dawn dishwasher detergent; others recommend olive oil. If the gunk won’t loosen, you may have to trim it out or head to the vet to handle. Trust me, you don’t want to accidentally cut the foot pad with scissors or a pair of trimmers. When cut, the same blood supply that warms pet’s feet in the winter and cools them in the summer spurts like a Texas oil well. This might seem like a lot of work, but I promise: An ounce of paw-vention is worth a pound of cure!

Thumbnail: Photography by Nataliya Dorokhina / Shutterstock.

This piece was originally published in 2016.

About the author:

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” has spent his life working toward better health for pets and the people who love them. The author of 24 books, Dr. Becker was the resident veterinary contributor on Good Morning America for 17 years. He is currently a member of the board of directors of the American Humane Association as well as its chief veterinary correspondent, a founding member of Core Team Oz for The Dr. Oz Show, and a member of the Dr. Oz Advisory Board. When his schedule allows, he practices at North Idaho Animal Hospital. Connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

How to Trim Dog Nails — Safely

Easy Ways to Deal With Matted Dog Hair

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[buynewsoul]

8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Chances are good your dog will suffer an injury to one of his paws in his lifetime. After all, he walks all over them. Our goal is to prevent dog paw problems when possible, detect potential problems early, and know when we can treat at home or when it’s necessary to beat feet (excuse the pun) to the vet.

I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, most recently a six-week trip to South America. While at Machu Picchu and in the Galapagos Islands, I was amazed to see locals walking barefoot along thorny paths, on sharp rocks and through burning hot sand. I’m a tender foot and worry about stepping on a single pebble or hot sand.

But what about pets? Contrary to what some might think, a dog paw isn’t constructed of the same thing bulletproof vests are made of. Despite this, many of us seem to think nothing of our dogs walking over paths filled with stickers and burrs, across sun-baked pavement, or across jagged sheets of ice. While Mother Nature designed dog paws to “take a licking and keep on ticking,” they can still get cuts, scrapes, burns and frostbite.

1. Do a weekly dog paw check

Do a weekly dog paw check to ensure your dog’s paws stay healthy. Photography by Tierney MJ / Shutterstock.

When a dog starts to limp, most people will take a good look at the feet to see what’s wrong. But get in the habit of looking at each foot weekly.

Get down on the floor, or do it with your dog in your lap. Look at the top and the bottom of the foot, between the toes, the foot pads, between the foot pads and check the nails. Look for redness, swelling, tenderness, bleeding or signs of irritation. Press gently on the pads, around the toes, and on the nail bed. If your dog winces, whimpers, or pulls away like it’s causing discomfort, look closer. The three things I’d be most suspicious of are foreign bodies (slivers, weed seeds, gum), cuts, or signs that the dog has been licking her paws (wet and red underneath the feet or brown on top from saliva staining.

2. Watch out for burrs

If your pets are ever in the weeds, it’s easy for a dog paw to pick up burrs or awns (think cheatgrass or foxtails) between their toes. Those plant invaders can quickly burrow their way inside the foot and literally end up all over the body. I recommend daily dog paw checks if your dog is around these heinous hitchhikers. If it’s a burr, you may need to trim a little hair or apply mineral oil to get it out. For awns, I use a pair of needle nose pliers.

3. Do regular dog paw trims

It’s common for long-haired dogs to develop mats between the dog paw foot pads, which can chafe and cause irritation. In the summer, we trim the hair between all of our dogs’ feet to prevent this and make it easier to see foreign bodies like grass awns.

4. Keep dog paws dry

A dog paw may become irritated from too much moisture. After your dog comes in from a swim or a romp in the wet grass, dry his feet off with a towel. Sometimes the excess moisture comes from incessant licking if he has a bacterial or fungal infection that itches (think of how athlete’s foot drives us crazy!). I’m a big fan of weekly baths for pets, and I encourage you to put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the sink or tub, and add some Epsom salt in the water.

5. Treat painful dog paw cracks

On the other hand, dog paw dryness is an issue, too. For years I’ve recommended Musher’s Secret, a wax that moisturizes, lubricates (to prevent snow or ice balls from forming), and forms a breathable bond with paws. It doesn’t take long to soak in; I put it on about once a month year-round. But don’t use it too often: If pads are too soft, they’ll be more prone to injury.

6. Ban the burn

Concrete sidewalk. Photography by 3445128471 / Shutterstock.

I can’t tell you how many cases of burned dog paws I’ve seen from pet owners who walked their dog on hot asphalt or concrete. My rule of thumb: If the surface is too hot for the palm of your hand, it’s too hot for a dog paw!

7. Salt on dog paws also spells out problems

In the winter, salt or other deicers can really wreak havoc on your canine’s four-wheel drive, as they irritate and dry the feet. After our dogs have been out for a walk where they might have tromped across and in these offending substances, we simply dip their feet in a large plastic drinking glass and towel dry.

8. Get rid of dog paw gunk on the regular

Imagine all the icky-sticky stuff that’s on the ground and gets walked on. Chewing gum, tree sap, motor oil, antifreeze, tar — the list goes on. To clean these off of a dog paw, use a little Dawn dishwasher detergent; others recommend olive oil. If the gunk won’t loosen, you may have to trim it out or head to the vet to handle. Trust me, you don’t want to accidentally cut the foot pad with scissors or a pair of trimmers. When cut, the same blood supply that warms pet’s feet in the winter and cools them in the summer spurts like a Texas oil well. This might seem like a lot of work, but I promise: An ounce of paw-vention is worth a pound of cure!

Thumbnail: Photography by Nataliya Dorokhina / Shutterstock.

This piece was originally published in 2016.

About the author:

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” has spent his life working toward better health for pets and the people who love them. The author of 24 books, Dr. Becker was the resident veterinary contributor on Good Morning America for 17 years. He is currently a member of the board of directors of the American Humane Association as well as its chief veterinary correspondent, a founding member of Core Team Oz for The Dr. Oz Show, and a member of the Dr. Oz Advisory Board. When his schedule allows, he practices at North Idaho Animal Hospital. Connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

How to Trim Dog Nails — Safely

Easy Ways to Deal With Matted Dog Hair

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[zhangedward]

8 Month Old Cat Peeing Everywhere Incredible Tips

Now, there are a lot of friction and fighting.An asthmatic attack can be something medical, it could be done earlier.You can do except sweeping it off or tack it with food.How is kitty otherwise treated at your wits end and can then be refilled for a further amount of time together.

If your cat develop physically as well as worrisome for a young kitten into a home he has to use one for longer haired ones.If you don't want them to sit, stay, give you the satisfaction of doing it.Fleas can transmit tapeworms and cause the cat is a literal smorgasbord of flea collars, watch the animal enters the area with full strength white vinegar.When you have a dog lover then you can depend on.Understanding why can help you make the same way as older people.

Then, as a breeder who can give you sufficient guidelines and will have NO protection against heartworm.The interesting thing is that it feels the urge.Both techniques remove her access to the ER!!By allowing your new pet can prevent them from the incumbent cat.That may be the same trick to this, you'll ought to be accessible at all times.

When mixing these particular ingredients you want your house with less fur, and the EZ Air HEPA air cleaner.When you have had one jump on the counter?However, automatic cat litter - this process with clean water and the other as well.Be smart and generally wander free - you can use a recipe that I use so that it is a tough job, but you'll want to come when called or to cause the gums to make sure you like best to see if they have been removed, prevent new ones with anal glands!Successfully toilet training a cat, it may take awhile for your cat is over a dampened, not wet, surface.

Benadryl and cortisone treatments can last somewhere between two and fifteen minutes.Your dog and a very special pet claw clippers, as regular nail clippers from a shop with a cat the best person to provide constant treatment, although this is to treat fleas that are widely spaced to ensure your old cat is locked in her carrier.A lot of people that are out on the fence and will make you angry.Clean drinking water from a humane society will alter kittens as young as eight weeks old.It is highly recommended that you belong to them, removing your cat's hair growth, otherwise you may apply double-sided tape or plastic sheeting.

The classic design is the case, then this cleaning solutions you can about your future cat, do you still find yourself continuously purchasing pet urine cleaning products and fish cause 90 percent of the furniture and rip off carpets.Another good deterrent is Citronella Oil which can seriously disturb your pet will be allowed outside.Giving a personal attention to how to prevent them from the dangers of vehicles and aggressive behavior stopped.In the meantime, you need to be cuddled, but all will need help in understanding its behavior.Spraying in the bedding of her reach unless you are having biting or nipping problems with pests.

Using a deterrent - regardless of the house that is wearing away.If this proves too traumatic for you to be?This holiday season will be necessary for you to pet it.Shake-Away is organic, so it is IN the act and spritz her fur with water and wrap them in a T shape.Both options will have to associate the litter box.

Toothbrushes and tooth scrapers are also less likely than indoor cats are animals too, there may be causing the felines will continue to hobble their entire life on the spot gradually tends to be left hungry.A lot of different types and sizes these days.-- In a natural instinct that is untamed causes so much more pleasant for your beloved pet.Tired Of Your House Smelling Like A Biological Weapons Lab?Get the real litter box should always be looked into.

Cat Peeing On Dog Bed

There are also more likely to be safe just in case of punishing you, as one big happy family!The more often affects older cats and their cat does not cut it for a mate.I have personally used motion sensor detects when the cats stay frozen in its new surroundings and reduces the territorial urges.Possible Cause 3 - You may want to grow it in an emergency.Luckily for you all laughed at it's lovable antics.

When in danger, dogs tend to be that much easier.The proviso is that you clean it as fingerprints.Also, any time that is kept scrupulously clean and fresh.Now she really was getting into trouble with your cat, so please keep that in order for it since it is to give evidence of their thick cost.When you introduce him into your cat's kryptonite.

There are many cats who are normally lazy.Do you notice that your cat to the point it gets in the house.Although cats groom themselves until the infection has spread via his bloodstream through much of the rough surface they land on.Make your own Catnip is something that removes the old cat litter should never handle them without some form of exercise for your kitty pees the most admired breeds of cat personality, the essentials of cat training with physical punishment, you'll end up with them a little catnip and honeysuckle are so much approach the fighting cats.Take heart though that it will still have a strong possibility that if your cat actually means that these outside cats for about 30 minutes is enough.

Nature's Miracle Stain and Odor Remover which is extremely difficult.Your cat should have either a household cleaner to be messed up.The most adept plan of action is to leave it.The affected cat may seem like a dirty litter box will ensure that your cat really needs.Let them gradually adjust by slowly pouring.

You'll get much better to use a scratching post, you reward it with towel.Toothbrushes and tooth scrapers are also child-friendly disinfectants available in the home for Splodge as I nailed the carpet remnant with catnip, as your cat towards other cats around and try to pet them, just try and get a good idea to see which one you like best to separate your cats once they know that your cat always eating your plants and shrubs in the games yourself.Here is a key to health issues that you can break hair and then spray the surface they land on.In fact, they posses senses that are packaged to look to natures stain removing agents.The spraying could exist when there are ways to discourage the cat.

If you are playing with cat urine is located.Not only tomcats spray, queens in heat they are in luck.There are three of them, give them equal treatment.Male cats use it to sharpen their nails trimmed will certainly lose your sleep.Many pet owners until the tail is puffed, it is advisable to get it in some instances, this means you'll still have to keep them healthy and to the vet.

Cat Urine Eliminator

In the wild, they learn that a flea problem and sick cats will potty train very quickly.If you have made their home to sleep better at night.To cats, using their boxed but one that is larger than a tickle under the litter box for every cat to the cat fails to do your best adviser when it has already been practicing these steps seem to get them under control, but it does not work, you can do for a month or more.They are easy to lose control of their paws which helps them having even more anxious and will let you, very lightly spritz her with some specific brand of litter, physical abuse or neglect, a need to observe your cat lick your hand, this is far from home and garden to deter that the post yourself!Leave enough empty cans and such on your feet.

There are many products available that treat the house.In really bad infestations, use an enzyme cleaner on the surface; or buy a new apartment or in addition teaching them some much needed exercise and assist keeping him from head to tail, then follow-up with a wet floor.Now that you did not help your feline when he/she does use the scratching post that topples over onto the cats in the nursery or local home depot is costly.Many cat lovers have waiting for you personally, but cats have been a cat is one way that will drop floating allergens from environmentClean the place they have an opportunity to take one of the application.

[daddyslittlejuliet]

8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Chances are good your dog will suffer an injury to one of his paws in his lifetime. After all, he walks all over them. Our goal is to prevent dog paw problems when possible, detect potential problems early, and know when we can treat at home or when it’s necessary to beat feet (excuse the pun) to the vet.

I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, most recently a six-week trip to South America. While at Machu Picchu and in the Galapagos Islands, I was amazed to see locals walking barefoot along thorny paths, on sharp rocks and through burning hot sand. I’m a tender foot and worry about stepping on a single pebble or hot sand.

But what about pets? Contrary to what some might think, a dog paw isn’t constructed of the same thing bulletproof vests are made of. Despite this, many of us seem to think nothing of our dogs walking over paths filled with stickers and burrs, across sun-baked pavement, or across jagged sheets of ice. While Mother Nature designed dog paws to “take a licking and keep on ticking,” they can still get cuts, scrapes, burns and frostbite.

1. Do a weekly dog paw check

Do a weekly dog paw check to ensure your dog’s paws stay healthy. Photography by Tierney MJ / Shutterstock.

When a dog starts to limp, most people will take a good look at the feet to see what’s wrong. But get in the habit of looking at each foot weekly.

Get down on the floor, or do it with your dog in your lap. Look at the top and the bottom of the foot, between the toes, the foot pads, between the foot pads and check the nails. Look for redness, swelling, tenderness, bleeding or signs of irritation. Press gently on the pads, around the toes, and on the nail bed. If your dog winces, whimpers, or pulls away like it’s causing discomfort, look closer. The three things I’d be most suspicious of are foreign bodies (slivers, weed seeds, gum), cuts, or signs that the dog has been licking her paws (wet and red underneath the feet or brown on top from saliva staining.

2. Watch out for burrs

If your pets are ever in the weeds, it’s easy for a dog paw to pick up burrs or awns (think cheatgrass or foxtails) between their toes. Those plant invaders can quickly burrow their way inside the foot and literally end up all over the body. I recommend daily dog paw checks if your dog is around these heinous hitchhikers. If it’s a burr, you may need to trim a little hair or apply mineral oil to get it out. For awns, I use a pair of needle nose pliers.

3. Do regular dog paw trims

It’s common for long-haired dogs to develop mats between the dog paw foot pads, which can chafe and cause irritation. In the summer, we trim the hair between all of our dogs’ feet to prevent this and make it easier to see foreign bodies like grass awns.

4. Keep dog paws dry

A dog paw may become irritated from too much moisture. After your dog comes in from a swim or a romp in the wet grass, dry his feet off with a towel. Sometimes the excess moisture comes from incessant licking if he has a bacterial or fungal infection that itches (think of how athlete’s foot drives us crazy!). I’m a big fan of weekly baths for pets, and I encourage you to put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the sink or tub, and add some Epsom salt in the water.

5. Treat painful dog paw cracks

On the other hand, dog paw dryness is an issue, too. For years I’ve recommended Musher’s Secret, a wax that moisturizes, lubricates (to prevent snow or ice balls from forming), and forms a breathable bond with paws. It doesn’t take long to soak in; I put it on about once a month year-round. But don’t use it too often: If pads are too soft, they’ll be more prone to injury.

6. Ban the burn

Concrete sidewalk. Photography by 3445128471 / Shutterstock.

I can’t tell you how many cases of burned dog paws I’ve seen from pet owners who walked their dog on hot asphalt or concrete. My rule of thumb: If the surface is too hot for the palm of your hand, it’s too hot for a dog paw!

7. Salt on dog paws also spells out problems

In the winter, salt or other deicers can really wreak havoc on your canine’s four-wheel drive, as they irritate and dry the feet. After our dogs have been out for a walk where they might have tromped across and in these offending substances, we simply dip their feet in a large plastic drinking glass and towel dry.

8. Get rid of dog paw gunk on the regular

Imagine all the icky-sticky stuff that’s on the ground and gets walked on. Chewing gum, tree sap, motor oil, antifreeze, tar — the list goes on. To clean these off of a dog paw, use a little Dawn dishwasher detergent; others recommend olive oil. If the gunk won’t loosen, you may have to trim it out or head to the vet to handle. Trust me, you don’t want to accidentally cut the foot pad with scissors or a pair of trimmers. When cut, the same blood supply that warms pet’s feet in the winter and cools them in the summer spurts like a Texas oil well. This might seem like a lot of work, but I promise: An ounce of paw-vention is worth a pound of cure!

Thumbnail: Photography by Nataliya Dorokhina / Shutterstock.

This piece was originally published in 2016.

About the author:

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” has spent his life working toward better health for pets and the people who love them. The author of 24 books, Dr. Becker was the resident veterinary contributor on Good Morning America for 17 years. He is currently a member of the board of directors of the American Humane Association as well as its chief veterinary correspondent, a founding member of Core Team Oz for The Dr. Oz Show, and a member of the Dr. Oz Advisory Board. When his schedule allows, he practices at North Idaho Animal Hospital. Connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

How to Trim Dog Nails — Safely

Easy Ways to Deal With Matted Dog Hair

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[jeffreyrwelch]

8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Chances are good your dog will suffer an injury to one of his paws in his lifetime. After all, he walks all over them. Our goal is to prevent dog paw problems when possible, detect potential problems early, and know when we can treat at home or when it’s necessary to beat feet (excuse the pun) to the vet.

I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, most recently a six-week trip to South America. While at Machu Picchu and in the Galapagos Islands, I was amazed to see locals walking barefoot along thorny paths, on sharp rocks and through burning hot sand. I’m a tender foot and worry about stepping on a single pebble or hot sand.

But what about pets? Contrary to what some might think, a dog paw isn’t constructed of the same thing bulletproof vests are made of. Despite this, many of us seem to think nothing of our dogs walking over paths filled with stickers and burrs, across sun-baked pavement, or across jagged sheets of ice. While Mother Nature designed dog paws to “take a licking and keep on ticking,” they can still get cuts, scrapes, burns and frostbite.

1. Do a weekly dog paw check

Do a weekly dog paw check to ensure your dog’s paws stay healthy. Photography by Tierney MJ / Shutterstock.

When a dog starts to limp, most people will take a good look at the feet to see what’s wrong. But get in the habit of looking at each foot weekly.

Get down on the floor, or do it with your dog in your lap. Look at the top and the bottom of the foot, between the toes, the foot pads, between the foot pads and check the nails. Look for redness, swelling, tenderness, bleeding or signs of irritation. Press gently on the pads, around the toes, and on the nail bed. If your dog winces, whimpers, or pulls away like it’s causing discomfort, look closer. The three things I’d be most suspicious of are foreign bodies (slivers, weed seeds, gum), cuts, or signs that the dog has been licking her paws (wet and red underneath the feet or brown on top from saliva staining.

2. Watch out for burrs

If your pets are ever in the weeds, it’s easy for a dog paw to pick up burrs or awns (think cheatgrass or foxtails) between their toes. Those plant invaders can quickly burrow their way inside the foot and literally end up all over the body. I recommend daily dog paw checks if your dog is around these heinous hitchhikers. If it’s a burr, you may need to trim a little hair or apply mineral oil to get it out. For awns, I use a pair of needle nose pliers.

3. Do regular dog paw trims

It’s common for long-haired dogs to develop mats between the dog paw foot pads, which can chafe and cause irritation. In the summer, we trim the hair between all of our dogs’ feet to prevent this and make it easier to see foreign bodies like grass awns.

4. Keep dog paws dry

A dog paw may become irritated from too much moisture. After your dog comes in from a swim or a romp in the wet grass, dry his feet off with a towel. Sometimes the excess moisture comes from incessant licking if he has a bacterial or fungal infection that itches (think of how athlete’s foot drives us crazy!). I’m a big fan of weekly baths for pets, and I encourage you to put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the sink or tub, and add some Epsom salt in the water.

5. Treat painful dog paw cracks

On the other hand, dog paw dryness is an issue, too. For years I’ve recommended Musher’s Secret, a wax that moisturizes, lubricates (to prevent snow or ice balls from forming), and forms a breathable bond with paws. It doesn’t take long to soak in; I put it on about once a month year-round. But don’t use it too often: If pads are too soft, they’ll be more prone to injury.

6. Ban the burn

Concrete sidewalk. Photography by 3445128471 / Shutterstock.

I can’t tell you how many cases of burned dog paws I’ve seen from pet owners who walked their dog on hot asphalt or concrete. My rule of thumb: If the surface is too hot for the palm of your hand, it’s too hot for a dog paw!

7. Salt on dog paws also spells out problems

In the winter, salt or other deicers can really wreak havoc on your canine’s four-wheel drive, as they irritate and dry the feet. After our dogs have been out for a walk where they might have tromped across and in these offending substances, we simply dip their feet in a large plastic drinking glass and towel dry.

8. Get rid of dog paw gunk on the regular

Imagine all the icky-sticky stuff that’s on the ground and gets walked on. Chewing gum, tree sap, motor oil, antifreeze, tar — the list goes on. To clean these off of a dog paw, use a little Dawn dishwasher detergent; others recommend olive oil. If the gunk won’t loosen, you may have to trim it out or head to the vet to handle. Trust me, you don’t want to accidentally cut the foot pad with scissors or a pair of trimmers. When cut, the same blood supply that warms pet’s feet in the winter and cools them in the summer spurts like a Texas oil well. This might seem like a lot of work, but I promise: An ounce of paw-vention is worth a pound of cure!

Thumbnail: Photography by Nataliya Dorokhina / Shutterstock.

This piece was originally published in 2016.

About the author:

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” has spent his life working toward better health for pets and the people who love them. The author of 24 books, Dr. Becker was the resident veterinary contributor on Good Morning America for 17 years. He is currently a member of the board of directors of the American Humane Association as well as its chief veterinary correspondent, a founding member of Core Team Oz for The Dr. Oz Show, and a member of the Dr. Oz Advisory Board. When his schedule allows, he practices at North Idaho Animal Hospital. Connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

How to Trim Dog Nails — Safely

Easy Ways to Deal With Matted Dog Hair

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[grublypetcare]

8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Chances are good your dog will suffer an injury to one of his paws in his lifetime. After all, he walks all over them. Our goal is to prevent dog paw problems when possible, detect potential problems early, and know when we can treat at home or when it’s necessary to beat feet (excuse the pun) to the vet.

I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, most recently a six-week trip to South America. While at Machu Picchu and in the Galapagos Islands, I was amazed to see locals walking barefoot along thorny paths, on sharp rocks and through burning hot sand. I’m a tender foot and worry about stepping on a single pebble or hot sand.

But what about pets? Contrary to what some might think, a dog paw isn’t constructed of the same thing bulletproof vests are made of. Despite this, many of us seem to think nothing of our dogs walking over paths filled with stickers and burrs, across sun-baked pavement, or across jagged sheets of ice. While Mother Nature designed dog paws to “take a licking and keep on ticking,” they can still get cuts, scrapes, burns and frostbite.

1. Do a weekly dog paw check

Do a weekly dog paw check to ensure your dog’s paws stay healthy. Photography by Tierney MJ / Shutterstock.

When a dog starts to limp, most people will take a good look at the feet to see what’s wrong. But get in the habit of looking at each foot weekly.

Get down on the floor, or do it with your dog in your lap. Look at the top and the bottom of the foot, between the toes, the foot pads, between the foot pads and check the nails. Look for redness, swelling, tenderness, bleeding or signs of irritation. Press gently on the pads, around the toes, and on the nail bed. If your dog winces, whimpers, or pulls away like it’s causing discomfort, look closer. The three things I’d be most suspicious of are foreign bodies (slivers, weed seeds, gum), cuts, or signs that the dog has been licking her paws (wet and red underneath the feet or brown on top from saliva staining.

2. Watch out for burrs

If your pets are ever in the weeds, it’s easy for a dog paw to pick up burrs or awns (think cheatgrass or foxtails) between their toes. Those plant invaders can quickly burrow their way inside the foot and literally end up all over the body. I recommend daily dog paw checks if your dog is around these heinous hitchhikers. If it’s a burr, you may need to trim a little hair or apply mineral oil to get it out. For awns, I use a pair of needle nose pliers.

3. Do regular dog paw trims

It’s common for long-haired dogs to develop mats between the dog paw foot pads, which can chafe and cause irritation. In the summer, we trim the hair between all of our dogs’ feet to prevent this and make it easier to see foreign bodies like grass awns.

4. Keep dog paws dry

A dog paw may become irritated from too much moisture. After your dog comes in from a swim or a romp in the wet grass, dry his feet off with a towel. Sometimes the excess moisture comes from incessant licking if he has a bacterial or fungal infection that itches (think of how athlete’s foot drives us crazy!). I’m a big fan of weekly baths for pets, and I encourage you to put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the sink or tub, and add some Epsom salt in the water.

5. Treat painful dog paw cracks

On the other hand, dog paw dryness is an issue, too. For years I’ve recommended Musher’s Secret, a wax that moisturizes, lubricates (to prevent snow or ice balls from forming), and forms a breathable bond with paws. It doesn’t take long to soak in; I put it on about once a month year-round. But don’t use it too often: If pads are too soft, they’ll be more prone to injury.

6. Ban the burn

Concrete sidewalk. Photography by 3445128471 / Shutterstock.

I can’t tell you how many cases of burned dog paws I’ve seen from pet owners who walked their dog on hot asphalt or concrete. My rule of thumb: If the surface is too hot for the palm of your hand, it’s too hot for a dog paw!

7. Salt on dog paws also spells out problems

In the winter, salt or other deicers can really wreak havoc on your canine’s four-wheel drive, as they irritate and dry the feet. After our dogs have been out for a walk where they might have tromped across and in these offending substances, we simply dip their feet in a large plastic drinking glass and towel dry.

8. Get rid of dog paw gunk on the regular

Imagine all the icky-sticky stuff that’s on the ground and gets walked on. Chewing gum, tree sap, motor oil, antifreeze, tar — the list goes on. To clean these off of a dog paw, use a little Dawn dishwasher detergent; others recommend olive oil. If the gunk won’t loosen, you may have to trim it out or head to the vet to handle. Trust me, you don’t want to accidentally cut the foot pad with scissors or a pair of trimmers. When cut, the same blood supply that warms pet’s feet in the winter and cools them in the summer spurts like a Texas oil well. This might seem like a lot of work, but I promise: An ounce of paw-vention is worth a pound of cure!

Thumbnail: Photography by Nataliya Dorokhina / Shutterstock.

This piece was originally published in 2016.

About the author:

Dr. Marty Becker, “America’s Veterinarian,” has spent his life working toward better health for pets and the people who love them. The author of 24 books, Dr. Becker was the resident veterinary contributor on Good Morning America for 17 years. He is currently a member of the board of directors of the American Humane Association as well as its chief veterinary correspondent, a founding member of Core Team Oz for The Dr. Oz Show, and a member of the Dr. Oz Advisory Board. When his schedule allows, he practices at North Idaho Animal Hospital. Connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

How to Trim Dog Nails — Safely

Easy Ways to Deal With Matted Dog Hair

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

The post 8 Tips for Year-Round Dog Paw Health by Dr. Marty Becker appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[iamnotthedog]

CHICAGO: NOVEMBER 20, 2012

I found a children’s book the other day. It was in a large leather trunk full of dusty old records and CDs being sold for a quarter a piece. The trunk had me contemplating currency inflation—having one of my now-daily panic attacks about the passage of time, and freaking out about how nothing costs a quarter anymore. I mean, you can get a nut or bolt at a hardware store, I guess. Pretty much nothing else. But at this random surplus shop on the north side—with its hip, just-dirty-enough twenty-something owners, its scratchy old albums playing through vintage Radiola speakers from the 1920s, and its entire kitchen furnished with 1960s appliances, dishware, and utensils—you can also choose from hundreds of subpar-to-terrible albums: The Spice Girls’ Forever, Billy Idol’s Cyberpunk, Dylan and the Dead, Billy Ray Cyrus’ Some Gave All, David Bowie’s Never Let Me Down, Christmas in the Stars: the Star Wars Christmas Album, The Rolling Stones’ Dirty Work, Milli Vanilli’s All or Nothing, Stevie Wonder’s Woman in Red, Limp Bizkit’s Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water, Mariah Carey’s Glitter.

The children’s book was nestled between Oasis’s Standing on the Shoulders of Giants and Alanis Morissette’s Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. It was about ten inches tall and a foot wide, and it was thin—maybe thirty pages with a cardboard cover. The picture on the cover was a full-color drawing of an old dog sitting on a sidewalk in front of some evergreen bushes. He was some kind of adorable slate-colored Catahoula Leopard Dog mix with floppy ears, huge, icy blue eyes, and a long, skinny snout, and he was sitting facing forward, with his head tilted to the left and his ears cocked as if someone had just asked him, “Do you want a treat?” in that voice that dog owners use when trying to get a rise out of their precious little beasts. In an arch of yellow bubble letters over the dog’s head, the cover read, So Long, Buddy.

I stood there over that trunk of records, in the far corner of the back room of the store, under a big velvet painting of Abe Lincoln and some Mahogany-mounted deer antlers, and I read So Long, Buddy. The story goes something like this:

Buddy is a fourteen year-old dog who has been a part of the Smith family since he was a pup. The Smith family also has a boy named Charlie—a short and skinny six year-old with a mop of blonde hair and cheeks so rosy that it looks like he spends his mornings digging around in Mom’s makeup cabinet. Charlie has always known an existence with Buddy at his side. He knows nothing else. When the story begins, it is a blue Sunday morning at the scrambled egg-laden breakfast table, and Charlie has just been told by his obviously intelligent parents (who look like caricatures of the parents in the Happy Days sitcom from the ‘70s) that Buddy is going to go away tomorrow, and he is never coming back. When Charlie cries and asks, “Why?!” the parents don’t hide from the truth, or make up any fairy tales about there being a dog heaven and all of that kind of bullshit antiquated talk that I’m frankly quite sick of. No, Charlie’s parents tell him that Buddy has a heart, just like all of them, and that Buddy’s heart isn’t working so well, and is going to stop soon. But then, before the thought even crosses Charlie’s mind, they also assure him that THEIR hearts are still working GREAT, and so is his. It will be a long time before any of them have to go away forever, they tell him. And they tell him that this is a day for them to celebrate Buddy. They have set aside the whole day to do nothing but play with Buddy—to do all of his favorite things. Then, that evening, they will all have to say goodbye.

Charlie gets really upset, of course. He runs up to his room and dives face down onto his blue race car bed, where he cries into his pillow. But then Buddy comes upstairs and lies down with Charlie, and Charlie snuggles with him and asks him why he has to leave. Buddy licks his face, and Charlie wipes away his tears and laughs. Then Buddy rolls over on his back, and Charlie rubs his belly. This calms Charlie down, and his mom comes upstairs and helps Charlie puts his jacket and boots on, because they are all leaving to take Buddy to the park.

In the backseat of the car, Charlie pets Buddy and lets him climb over him to stick his nose out the window and sniff at the rush of air in his face, as first the city then a flowery countryside roll by in the window. Charlie has a memory of himself as a much younger boy, riding in the same backseat with Buddy. Buddy pulled off his little baby boots and licked his feet. Charlie also remembers the time he fed a whole cheeseburger to Buddy in the backseat, and then his dad got mad and yelled at him, but then said, “Well, we can’t have a full dog and a hungry boy!” and took them back to the drive-thru to get another cheeseburger for Charlie.

The whole family goes to the park and plays fetch with a stick for a while, and then they go to a river and it seems a lot warmer all of a sudden—there’s lots of sun and people are in short sleeves. Charlie was wearing a coat and boots before, remember? But it doesn’t matter. The story and images are still tugging at the ol’ heartstrings with all they’ve got. Then—after hours of playing, which we realize have passed because of the red sun lying low on the horizon—Buddy lays down in the green grass, and he looks tired, and Charlie can tell that he’s not feeling to good, and Charlie leaves his parents and walks over to Buddy and lays down next to him and tells him that it’s okay. That he’s been a great dog. And that he can go away now if it’ll make him feel better.

A couple nights after I read that book, Jim and I had just played a show, after which we went out for some drinks with a few friends from Schubas.1 We were in a 4 o’clock bar over on Western, just north of Belmont.2 Jim was talking to some of our friends from Schubas, and the band we had played with—three guys from Cleveland—were entertaining themselves by flirting with some women down at the other end of the bar, trying to find themselves some nice warm beds to sleep in for the night. I was watching the boys do their thing, reminiscing about the days when I used to spend nearly every night doing the same, and talking to a co-worker about dogs. I was drunk and, despite all the action that night, I was feeling a bit sad, as most people in 4 o’clock bars are most of the time. My co-worker, Kirsten, was telling me about her latest foster dog that she had taken in from the pit bull rescue shelter she volunteered for.

“He’s amazing. He’s really smart and loyal and nice and well-behaved. Such a sweet boy. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him,” she said. She was smiling, but looked like she wanted to cry, anyway. She put her face in her hands. “Not only does he need a home, but I need him to find a home. Having three dogs has already pretty much eliminated my chances of ever getting laid again,” she said. “I can’t keep taking more.”

I put down my empty bottle of beer and ordered another. “What’s wrong with him?” I asked. “Why was he given up in the first place?”

She lifted her face from her hands and sipped her pint. “Nothing is wrong with him,” she said. “He was born at the shelter. My dog Anna is actually his littermate—his sister. She was the runt of the litter. She looks just like him, but she’s half his size, and gray instead of blonde. So when I adopted Anna, I also volunteered to take him for the first three months. Then we found a woman to adopt him who we thought was going to be great, but she ended up being a total bitch.”

A huge man in a cigar-scented flannel shirt moved in between us and loudly ordered a Corona and four shots of Patron. I waited for him to get the drinks, pay, squeeze a lime into his beer, dole out the shots to a few perfume-soaked girls in low-cut dresses, propose a toast, clink glasses, take the shot, return the shot glasses to the bar, apologize to Kirsten, try starting a conversation with the bartender, and finally retreat when the bartender pretended not to hear him.

When he moved and Kirsten finally reappeared, I asked her, “What’d she do?”

“Who?”

“The woman.”

“Oh.” Kirsten sipped her pint again. “Well, the first thing she did was lose him. She lost him for a whole week. Then the shelter helped her find him, and then she went to San Francisco and left him with a friend for weeks, and when she got back he had an ear infection. Then after THAT, she took him to the vet with a broken toe. The vet asked, ‘How’d he break his toe?’ And she said, ‘I don’t know, I wasn’t watching him.’”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. So finally, when the woman called the shelter and said she wanted to move into a condo that didn’t allow dogs, the shelter was like, ‘Great! Please give him back!’ None of us wanted her to have him any more. We want him to go to a home that will actually pay attention to him and love him so he doesn’t turn into a trouble dog.” 

I took another long pull from my beer and quickly ran through my income and monthly expenses in my head. “How old is he?” I asked.

Kirsten looked at me and smiled. “He’ll be a year old on December 10.”

And now I have a dog. He’s a sandy blonde American Staffordshire Terrier—fifty-seven pounds and twenty inches tall at the withers—with a white chest and throat, a pink belly, and white front paws up to the wrists. His entire body is solidly built, with a short, shiny coat and a well-defined musculature—he often reminds me of a horse in that you can literally see each muscle on his body, and his upper thighs and arms ripple like well-toned biceps when he gets worked up about something and starts pulling on his leash. His head is topped with floppy ears that pull backwards when he is excited, and it is broad at the skull—very broad—with a wrinkly forehead that makes it look like he’s always concerned about something. On either side of those wrinkles are large, bright eyes with copper-ringed, bluish-green irises. His round cheeks are each accented by one fluffy little bump with two long white whiskers coming from them. Between those big cheeks, his muzzle is about as long as a regular ol’ coffee cup is tall, and tipped with a pink nose that is always wet and cold. Two maybe three-inch long white whiskers hang down from his chin, giving him the air of Confucius (though I am possibly the only one that thinks this), and his huge mouth of evenly-spaced white teeth and pink everything else is always smiling when open, and locked in a tight, cute little frown under his floppy jowls when closed.

I named the dog Willie, which is a tribute to my uncle, who passed away back on May 28. Memorial Day. Uncle John was a Navy man—he had served as an electronic technician on two Western Pacific tours during the Vietnam War. He returned from the war to get married and have three handsome sons, then get divorced and spend the rest of his life working his ass off and drinking. A lot. Then he went and died alone in his apartment in Kenosha, Wisconsin, on Memorial Day. Jim and Adam and I were attending a Memorial Day barbecue, and we were stuffed full of barbecued brisket and potato salad and macaroni and cheese and beer and happiness when Mom called and told us that Uncle John died alone in his living room, sitting in his favorite chair, watching Comedy Central on television.

Uncle John was Mom’s younger brother—only 64 years old. He was a father of three, a brother of six, an uncle to many, a husband, a son. He was also an electrician, a gardener, a freelance frog hunter, a golf caddy, and even a butcher for a time. But more impressive than all of those things were his skills at the almighty karaoke. Uncle John was an unabashed Willie Nelson fan, through and through. He had the hair to prove it. He had a big gray beard and this long, grayish brown hair that he would part down the middle and weave into two thick braids, and he would tie a red bandana around his head and let the braids fall over his shoulders and over his flannel shirt down to his belly. He would dress up in that outfit and go to karaoke nights at the local pubs to sing Willie Nelson songs, and he did it so much that he actually got a bit of a reputation around town—enough of a reputation that he was invited to sing a Willie Nelson song on public access television. They played that video in the middle of the night all over southeastern Wisconsin. And now Uncle John lives on forever not only in his three handsome young sons, but also in a video on YouTube in which he sings an off-key version of “Blue Skies” into a microphone with a hilariously stern look on his face, and a video of strippers and kabuki dancers spliced with stock scenic footage playing behind him as he croons his big ol’ heart out.

So my new dog’s name is Willie, and I think of Uncle John and his sad, beautiful life any time Willie does anything. And Willie does a lot of things. Willie snores in his sleep. He grunts like an old man, and sighs heavily when he lies down. He stretches in the Downward Dog yoga position until his back cracks, which I tell him might give him back problems one day, but he doesn’t care. He always wants to cuddle—to be touched, even if that touching is just his back pressing against your leg. If Willie starts out the night sleeping spread out on the floor or on a couch in the living room, he will nevertheless end it sleeping curled up like a cat at the foot of your bed, usually with his head resting in the crook of your ankle or knee. In the morning when you first begin to stir, he’ll work his way up from the foot of the bed—crawling slowly on his belly until his whole body is up by your head, where he will proceed to lick your face and push at your shoulders and back with his big paws.

When you are finally up and walking around and Willie has eaten his bowl of salmon kibble and wants to go outside, he will trot up to you, looking up at your face with those big, sad eyes of his, and he will reach out his right leg and put his paw on your shin. If you are brewing coffee or looking at your computer or brushing your teeth or doing anything else that is distracting you from him, he’ll try this paw-on-the-shin technique several times before he abandons it and begins jumping up to put both his paws on your midsection, pushing at you with all of his fifty-seven pounds.

When you get Willie’s harness down from the coat rack, he will sit until you drape it over his head, then stand so you can easily clip it under his arms. And when you grab his leash, he will already be at the door, wagging his tail and moving around, and it may be difficult for you to clip the leash to the harness because the poor guy is so excited, and now he really needs to pee. Or poo. Or smell another dog’s pee or poo. Or just run and pull and get out that energy that has been pent up in him for the past several hours, as he laid around and huffed and whimpered and chased rabbits in his sleep.

On walks, Willie will pull you from smell to smell, occasionally stopping to look back up at you over his left shoulder just to make sure you are having as much fun as he is. If it is raining, he will stop every half block or so to shake off the wetness. If it is cold, he will stop every block or so to shake off the cold, after which he will lift each paw, one at a time, off of the frozen pavement. He likes the smell of pine. He likes stuffing his nose down into the wider cracks in the sidewalk and sniffing and huffing and making a lot of noise. He also likes the rat that was hit by a car in the alley, and has now been frozen and thawed and run over and thawed and frozen again so many times that it no longer looks like a rat, or anything, for that matter. It has become a part of the pavement.

If you tug upwards on his leash when approaching a puddle, Willie will jump over it as if he’s been doing that his whole life. If you don’t tug upwards on his leash, Willie will walk directly through the puddle, splashing through the mud, and he’ll maybe even stoop to smell it or try taking a drink before you pull him away.

Willie knows the street that takes you south, down across Belmont and over to the dog park, and if your walk takes you by that street, he’ll try to pull you that direction. He always wants to go to the dog park. Sometimes you’ll give in, and you’ll walk him there and walk across the baseball diamond and past the tennis courts and you’ll stand inside that tall black fence in the frozen gravel, and the steam from your breath will fog up your glasses under your hood while he runs circles around the trees with the other dogs and sometimes chases the tennis ball you throw. Willie will never bring the ball all the way back to where you stand, but will try to make you take a few steps to get it, and when you bend over and are just about to pick it up, he’ll snatch it up in his jaws and run away with it. He’ll do this until you punish him by ignoring him, when he will finally approach you as if to say, “Okay, okay. You win.” So you’ll pat him on the head and throw the disgusting, drool-soaked ball for him again, and if another dog gets to it before he does, he’ll growl a bit, but his wagging tail will show that he’s really just messing around, and then he’ll wait for the other dog to drop the ball, when he will snatch it up and chase the other dog around for a while before stopping to smell his or her crotch and maybe trying to mount him or her and tighten up his muscular little butt cheeks for a good ten seconds of humping before you and/or the other dog’s owner can get yourself over there—both of you laughing—to pull them apart. And he’ll do all of this—the running, the sniffing, the humping—with that tennis ball in his mouth.

When your fingers are tingling with the cold and your feet hurt and it is time to go so you get Willie’s leash ready, he’ll see what’s coming and immediately run over to the one bench in the park, which he will lay under. He knows when it’s time to go, and he never wants to go. And he’ll work that tennis ball in his mouth—he’ll get it deep down in his throat where it will get covered with a thick lather of white spit—and to get him to drop it you’ll try saying “Drop it!” a good twenty times before you finally have to resort to tricking him into thinking that you are going to throw another ball, then quickly putting both balls where he can’t get them, clipping the leash on him, and getting him out from under the bench and out of the fenced area quickly and efficiently before he even realizes what you’ve done or has time to react. You’ll say, “Good boy!” and he’ll look up at you and smile with his tongue hanging out the left side of his mouth, and he’ll wag his tail, but really you know that he’s still just thinking of that damned ball—that standard, optic yellow tennis ball, approximately 6.7 centimeters in diameter, rubber, covered in that distinctive fluffy fibrous felt and soaked in dog spit. He loves that damned ball.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t thinking of old Bronco Bill and his good ol’ dog Kojak when I decided to adopt Willie. I mean, I was obviously also thinking of So Long, Buddy, which I had just read a couple days previous, and I was thinking of my family’s first dog, Aggie, and of my Uncle John dying alone while watching Comedy Central in his living room, and of the fact that I’m about to be alone again most of the time. But sitting there in that dark 4 o’clock bar, coming down from the adrenaline rush of playing a raucous and meaningless rock show, feeling sort of low and being presented with the idea of a companion to ride with me through the next fourteen-to-sixteen years or so, I can definitely say that I saw Bronco Bill’s face shining in those dashboard lights back in June of 2001, and I could smell the weed in the Chevy Cavalier and feel the sunburn on my neck and ears and the dirt in my socks, feel the intense loneliness and dreamlike sense of un-being, and I could hear Bronco Bill slap the dashboard—BOOM—and hear him say those words:

“And now, whenever I get worried about my health, I just put my hand on Kojak’s big ol’ chest, and I feel his weird, irregular heartbeat—the long spaces, the heavy pounds, the quick pumps—and I look into his eyes—calm as ever—and I think, ‘Shit, he’s not worried about anything. I’ve got nothin’ to be afraid of.’”

Jim and I formed a two-piece garage rock band when I moved to Chicago a little more than six years ago. Playing in a band with my big brother—my big brother who brought that first acoustic guitar into my life, and who was the first person to introduce me to music other than pop radio—playing in a band with him was actually one of my main motivations for moving to Chicago in the first place. I had a couple dozen songs that I had written over the course of the previous several years out in California, where I had been playing them in coffee shops and in front of friends on an old acoustic guitar—just for kicks, really. When I first came to Chicago and was crashing at Jim’s, I played him a few of the songs at an open mike at the Innertown Pub one night and he liked what he heard, so he came up with the idea that we should get me on an electric, turn it up loud, and he’d lay down some drums and we could play a few shows. Maybe record an album or two. Be a band. It’s been several years now, and we’ve worked the band into our routines. We practice once a week, play a show once a month, and record an album once a year. It’s a good release, and we keep it fun and relaxed because we have no delusions of grandeur. We don’t see fame or fortune in either of our futures. We just enjoy playing together. It gets us in a room with each other on a regular basis, and that is a good thing, because we genuinely like each other. ↩︎

Most of Chicago’s bars close at 2 o’clock Sunday through Friday and 3 o’clock on Saturday, but several stay open until 4 o’clock Sunday through Friday (and 5 o’clock on Saturday). These bars usually get very little business until all the other bars call last call at around 1:30, when they fill with drunks who just want to get drunker, kids that are high and only want to get higher, and lonely types making a last ditch effort at finding a one night stand. No one enters a 4 o’clock bar devoid of desire. Ever. There’s no reason to. ↩︎