Sparky, wot about stoppin’n’noshin’?
No time, mate
Henry shakes his large head, splashing away the rainlick.
No time for noshing?
Wot I means is, one: I grab Poppet, two: yu slap muttwit, three: we goes noshing, afters
Load of numbers, init?
Henry mate, just give that big brown muttwit a right hammering and I’ll crunch thems numbers
Crunching? Lyk the sound o’ that
C’mon, let’s finish this
The little and large fourlegs spin left and crash down into the undergrowth following the snifz of Poppet and that worrisome brown muttwit. Sniffy colours intensify the closer they trot.
Need some noshing Henry is panting not really built for speed, only submitting
Hold fast Henry. Gotta get Poppet back to the fayre before our hindlegs start missing us
Who? Franks? Nah, he’s banging the piss in the beer tent. Thinks I’m under the table
Erh, excellent. Let’s end this – nows!
Poppet is conflicted. Running away into the sunset ain’t supposed to snifz lyk this. Izit?
Cold, damp, dark, versus comfort, warmth, and safety. Maybe nows the time to go home to Stonks and enjoy that coffee!
Are we nearly there – erh, anywhere yet?
We are my lover Drizzle stops and turns to Poppet.
A right solid male lyk Drizzle is all her dreams come true, right? Trouble is, all her dreams also include loads of dry weather, a cozy houseden, and Stonks with food bowl in handpaw.
Drizzle’s touch changes that in an instant.
Without further ado Drizzle trots ‘round back of Poppet for some well-deserved eightleggers. Sudden weight and Drizzle’s damp front toes are hanging down either side of her flanks. Large teeth are nuzzling her earflap before firmly clamping down onto her scruff. Not painfully, but in a right solid and intimately submitting grip.
Poppet is conflicted no more.
Spy ’ems and snifz ’ems!
Hold on, need my second wind Henry lumbers along behind.
The snow drives back the foot that’s slow
Sparky is tingling. He is Fenrir. And the time for action is nows. He streaks forward.
They ask no quarter Henry, and we show no quarter
They – we – wot?
This Drizzle is well fit, thinks Poppet, and wot he’s doing is simply–
Get off ‘o her! Sparky streaks out of nowhere, crashing into Drizzle’s flank.
And bounces off, upside down in the rainlick leaves, paws sticking up in the air.
Yu wot, mate? Drizzle slides off Poppet to stand over the Whippet.
Great legs tower up into the darkness, merging into sky-blotting head.
I am Fenrir Sparky croaks, chops dry companion of Tyr, Norse god of war
And? Drizzle cocks his head, ready to lunge.
Sparky looks away and, erh – and this is my mate, Henry!
Royt then! Henry lumbers into view any yuz muttwits wanna submit before nosh?
Drizzle leaps away from Sparky. Henry stands foursquare. Poppet feels ignored.
Aww, mount up again, Drizzle, yu big tonk
The two big fourlegs knock heads, stubs and tails raised respectively.
Bodies slide past one another, searching and seeking. Butt sniffing all that hunger, desire, disappointment and despair. Both pull away, berserker ready.
Submit! roars Drizzle
Yeah royt huffs Henry.
They knock heads together once again, and – well, just stand there, shaking earflaps and wagging butts, the daft muttwits.
How yu doing Fudge?
Not so bad, Henry. Yu?
Wot? Sparky jumps upside the right way.
Fudge? Poppet squeaks, backend still quivering.
Hold up, thought yor name’s Drizzle?
Henry looks at Poppet for a moment nah, this’s Fudge
Unbelievable Poppet steams.
Missing his pleasurable weight is bad enough. Worse, this Fudge is more than happy to stand there shooting the poop with Henry.
As for Sparky, he drops earflaps and braces for the wrath of a Poppet-denied his coming his way.
Sparky! Yu stupid, little mu–
Meanwhile, Fudge and Henry are catching up on all the latest.
No sign of yor lost hindlegs then, Fudge?
Nah mate, sniffed ’ems in Herdwick pooping park beforenows, but – nah!
The two great minds happily peer ‘round abouts the woods.
Nice gaff says Henry, wishing he can live in the woods and not in a small backyard.
Not so bad Fudge replies, content to simply stand with his buddy and snifz in the surroundings. He wanders over to the nearest squirting post and cocks a leg. Henry follows, sniffing Fudge’s squirtz for all the latest intel, before adding a little intel of his own.
Oi, yuz two! Poppet shatters the bromance moment. A flaplegs sqwarks in surprise from the branches above.
And yu she hisses at Sparky stay right there, I ain’t done with yuz yet before marching over to the two great minds.
Right then, Drizzle or Fudge or wotever she barks, before adding softly we still an item, init?
Item? Drizzle or Fudge looks confused.
Yes. Us she snarls yu know, a link?
Fudge looks at Henry for answers. Henry slobbers a bit before looking at Sparky. All three fourlegs look back at Poppet.
It was really, really good. But now… I’ve got to go away! Oh, oh, oh.
Sparky dares to go and stand beside Henry and Fudge – the three fourlegs gawking at Poppet.
Silence hangs heavy in the dark woods.
The flaplegs sqwarks again.
Buncha kretins she spits, and flops down to start licking her butt.
Fancy marking some posts? Fudge breaks the moment.
Totally replies Henry.
And just lyk that the two great minds trot off into the woods, abandoning Sparky.
Uh-oh Sparky starts getting tingly as Poppet directs all her fluffed-up blond earflaps frustrations straight at him.
Upon us all, upon us all a little rain must fall. It’s just a little rain oh yeah…
“theGibson?” KevLegs is beaming idiotically at Stonks “whenyousaidEDS1275” he pinches out his tee-shirt from his belly “youmeant,thetwin-necked,GibsonEDS1275!”
“corss” Stonks replies “obvs”
“notalottapeopleknowthat” KevLegs admits in wonder, beer glass drooping in one handpaw, tee-shirt pinched out in the other.
“saw’emlive,O2-“ she pokes a handpaw at Jimmy Page.
“noway!” he is stunned into silence. And then, tentatively “aStarWarsfan,also?”
“doesakickinthenutshurt?” she replies, lifting her tiny snout to the sky and scritching happily.
KevLegs fumes every possible shade of orange. A colour of pure happiness wot spreads across Herdwick pooping park, making fourlegs forget wot they’re doing, eating, squirting, eating, sniffing, eating. Black snout holes everywhere, twitching the air.
Don’t tell me… Poppet starts in amazement.
Yeah, both into Zep answers Sparky with intense satisfaction.
“nonsesense,nonsense,nonsense” scritches KevLegs
“nonsesense,nonsense,andmorenonsense” scritches Stonks.
They wobble off together, the two hungry fourlegs well and truly forgotten.
This fayre’s the dog’s plum bobs Sparky snifz at all the nosh.
Sure Poppet shakes earflaps been disqualified, dogged and dumped, wot’s not to lyk?
They trot towards the nosh stalls.
Kicking off with tandoori kebabs this end he suggests.
And noshing ‘it right up to Cornish pasties that end she finishes.
Wanted a woman, never bargained for yuz
Sparky is feeling tingly all over.
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