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The Park | Monday Afternoon

Irene had taken herself off for a little excursion out of town this weekend, as she often did when she started feeling lonely. She'd stayed in a very nice hotel, she'd gotten all kinds of beauty treatments done, and she'd gone shopping (and specifically had scouted out smaller boutiques where someone who was, perhaps, not a natural clothes horse might feel comfortable. Just for reference.)

But she also had also made an impulse purchase. A different sort of one than she normally did -- Irene had not come home with a gorgeous pair of shoes she didn't need or a watch that cost more than a car. She had initially gone into the shelter just to look -- again, moved mostly by loneliness she wouldn't acknowledge -- and had vaguely begun to consider perhaps coming back out with a tiny stylish friend whom she could put a bow on, and maybe keep in a little handbag.

But then she'd seen a wrinkled little face, and for maybe the second time in her life, Irene had fallen in love.

So she was here in the park now, perched on a bench with a very young bulldog playing at her feet and chasing...apparently nothing. No matter. Irene just wanted the little darling to tire herself out before it rained as it was threatening to.

"You'll get it," Irene encouraged, reaching a hand down to pet her new friend. She was immediately rewarded with the presentation of the puppy's tummy, thus confirming that this impulse purchase had been a fantastic choice.

[hark, a rare Monday when I am around. Open!]

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Even though Anna Pavlova had already gotten a walk that morning before Rosa squeezed in some work before Paintball, the pup was still extremely wound up when she got home, making her half-wonder if Tightpants had slipped her something. But rather than let herself try and work it out in the apartment, they headed put again, this time to the park, where Rosa was hoping Anna could just get it out of her system already.

The pull on the leash of Anna desperately trying to get to the pup at Irene's feet alerted her to it before she even saw it, but, once she did, she could only remark, "Is there actually a dog underneath all that?"

"There is. She's hard to spot," Irene answered agreeably (and clearly in the throes of brand-new puppy love.) "I half-hope she grows into her skin, and half-hope it only gets worse."

The puppy herself took immediate notice of Anna, getting right to her feet and pulling on her own (Tiffany, naturally) leash to investigate the other dog.

Rosa let up on the leash a little, just enough that Anna could get closer, but still not close enough.

"Or," Rosa offered, "she'll stay just like that. This one's been a puppy for as long as I've had her."

Rosa was definitely waiting for the other shoe to drop on that one, when she'd wake up with a full-grown golden retriever with one hell of a growth spurt at the foot of her bed.

Speaking of shoes...

Rosa's eyes flicked toward Irene's, wondering just how long it would be until Anna noticed those.

Oh, Irene was in for quite a rude awakening as far as puppy teeth and her Louboutins. Foresight hadn't had a chance in the face of the puppy's...well, face.

"Now there's an idea," Irene noted with consideration, eyeing the two puppies as the little bulldog stepped forward to sniff at Anna across the chasm (read: foot or two) separating them. "She's not magic or anything?"

Magic puppies did not seem out of the question around here.

Rosa shrugged, letting a little more slack on the leash as Anna leaned forward to sniff across the slightly lessening chasm a little more. She was still trying to teach the puppy restraint; with the way she was squirming for every inch, they clearly still had a long way to go.

"Might be," she said. "Probably, actually. How else do you explain it? She also only knows Russian."

Her attention went down toward the dog.

"Pravil nost, gluppy?" she asked, and Anna let out a resounding, proud bark, ceasing her straining to waggle her tail back and forth while looking back at Rosa.

"Oh, really?" Irene was (you know, understandably) intrigued, and turned her attention to Anna Pavlova. "Dobryy den, little friend."

She let up a tiny bit of slack on her own puppy's leash, letting her bounce forward and strain with playful interest. "This is Clementine. I'm fairly sure she speaks English."

But then, she was only just getting to know her.

At the greeting, all of Anna's attention swiveled toward Irene so fast, it was like her head would fly right off and she let out a cheerful double-bark of a greeting back, before just staring at her, panting, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth.

And that's when Anna noticed Irene's shoes, her attention snapped that way like a hunting dog honing in on prey, and Rosa had to make a very tough decision.

"Watch your feet," she said, keeping the length of Anna's leash firmly where it was. "She likes shoes, too."

Take the warning as a compliment, Irene.

Irene took heed of the warning with the gravity it deserved, actually going ahead and tucking her feet up on the bench beside her. Not that that would necessarily be enough to deter a determined puppy, but it would at least provide one obstacle.

Though now she was considering whether Clementine might also like shoes. Her closet would perhaps need a gate of some sort.

"That," Irene decided as Clementine decided standing was too much effort and lolled onto her back with a little bark-turned-yawn, "at least seems to be fairly standard among dogs, though admittedly I'm new to this."

Rosa noted the shift with the tiniest nod of approval as Anna, now confused terribly by the sudden disappearance of such lovely shoes, blinked in bewilderment before she started sniffing around the grass for where they might be hiding.

"Anna tends to elevate it to an artform," Rosa noted, then quirked her chin at Clementine. "So why the change? Someone leave her at your doorstep, or something?"

Come on, now, Rosa, she wasn't a koala.

Irene would not have been half so charmed by a doorstep koala, for the record -- but she would have immediately tried to put a little outfit on him.

"I've always wanted a dog," Irene admitted, somewhere near honest there. "We had a cat when I was a child, but dogs are different. Fancied a change."

Read: cats didn't need you the way dogs did, and Irene recognized, however secretly or subconsciously, that it might be quite good for her to have something that was dependent on her.

Also, "And look at her little face." Truly, she'd gone in thinking she might come out with a poodle or a posh little shih tzu. Instead, wrinkles forever and ever, for the woman who paid extra to have everything ironed.

Edited 2022-07-25 19:11 (UTC)

Rosa tried, Irene. She tried.

"She has a face?"

It was evidently puppy day at the park because Dwight was out somewhere in the park are too, with a rather energetic beagle pup running around on the end of the leash with his favorite tennis ball in tow.

They'd eventually make it over toward Irene and Dwight gave a wave as they approached.

"Irene! Good to see you" he called out in greeting and also as a heads up that another friendly furball was in coming.

Edited 2022-07-25 16:25 (UTC)

Irene's little bulldog friend was already up and giving an excited yip as she pulled on her lead at the sight of Snoopy -- but if there was anything Irene had practice at, it was how to control someone on the end of a leash. The rest of dog ownership would probably come less naturally.

"All right, Dwight?" she called, tugging the puppy close just in case Snoopy did not want to make a new friend at this time.

"Doing good" Dwight said as they got closer and he let Snoopy get close enough for those excited initial sniffs.

"Seems you got yourself a new friend," he said looking down at the little pile of wrinkles. "And an absolutely adorable one at that," he said with a grin as Snoopy actually dropped his tennis ball to give a happy little yip.

"I have," Irene agreed, beaming at her little friend (and at Snoopy, as collateral beaming damage.) "Meet Clementine."

She had been thinking about it nearly the whole way back. The name ought to suit her incredibly ladylike little girl, she thought, and Clementine was just the right amount of ridiculous frill.

Clementine toddled forward to eye Snoopy, giving an excited little growly bark as she considered her new friend. (So many new friends today. Big day to be Clementine.)

"Clementine is a perfect name!" Dwight agreed with a grin. "Lovely name for a lovely little lady" he added as he knelt down, both to make sure Snoopy didn't get too excited with his obviously new play mate, and to try n not seem as imposing or intimidating. He slowly held out his hand to let her sniff and looked up at Irene.

"How have you two been getting on?"

Clementine, for her part, was very new to pretty much everything and didn't have a lot of restraint as she bounded forward to sniff at Dwight and bat one paw with interest at Snoopy.

"We've only just met," Irene explained, which was also a rather cute way to say that Irene had purchased her and bought her a collar and brought her home and was arranging to have food delivered on a schedule (but only the best food, so this took research.) "But so far it seems to be going well."

'Going well' = Irene would probably take a bullet for this dog.

Funny how an adorable face would do that to a person.

"Getting to know each other is a delightful challenge at times" Dwight said with a nod and then a glance over at Snoopy. "But oh so worth it in the end. And with a face like this one" he said giving his attention back to Clementine with a grin "how can anyone not be totally smitten?"

"You know, she's not what I'd pictured." Maybe a Pomeranian. Ooh, or couldn't you just picture her with a greyhound? Some gorgeous, sleek Italian thing retired from days of racing and content to allow herself to be accessorized and spoiled forever?

Instead, there was Clementine, who gave a growly little bark that Irene supposed was meant to be both playful and ferocious as she lolled onto her back to paw at Snoopy, wrinkles everywhere. "But she's my first dog, and I went with my gut."

"Sometimes it just happens, like it was fate or destiny. I know that's how it was for me when I saw Snoopy at the shelter. It helps to have someone who is there and wont judge or mock you for your little quicks, guilty pleasures, or insecurities."

Dwight watched the two pups for a moment then turned back to Irene.

"So how are things going as far as getting the place puppy-proofed and all that?" he asked, unable to stop himself from imagining how much damage any of the pups in the park that day could do running lose in Irene's shop.

"Well, I got her a crate." A rather fashionable one, actually, that just looked like a table. "And I'm signing her up for puppy school on the mainland soon as I can to help stave off a bit of behavior, too, but...."

Irene shrugged, having to admit defeat here. "I'm not entirely sure what else I need to do for puppy-proofing, besides closing the doors to my closet."

That would not be enough.

"Sounds like Clementine is living the good life. Not that there would be any doubt on the pampering and attention of course," Dwight said with a smirk. "If she ends up being a chewer (as most puppies were really) I could give you some recommendations for the best, and a few of the not so good, toys that Snoopy has worked his way through so far.

Between collar and leash, Clementine was already sporting nearly a thousand dollars of swag, so...no, no reason to ever doubt the pampering.

But Irene looked mildly concerned about chewer. "Recommendations would be very welcome," Irene decided, already thinking she needed to make sure Clementine's time spent down in the shop was limited to say the least.

Dildos probably seemed like very appealing chew toys.

Dwight nodded and thought for a moment, considering Clementine.... AND her now puppy obsessed owner.... and grinned.

"First thing I would suggest is start with the basics. Snoopy's favorite thing to chew by far, other than sticks, is tennis balls. (there were probably $50 tennis balls that could be added to Clementine's collection now and then)."

And as if to prove that point Snoopy dropped the tennis ball in front of Clementine and gave a happy "play with me" bark.

Rosa would have been perfectly fine to have completely ignore Dwight when she spotted him at the park, but Anna had very different ideas, especially once she spotted Snoopy and went bounding excitedly toward him. And since one of Rosa's very rare soft spots actually was for this dumb dog, she sighed and reluctantly allowed it.

"Dwight." Look at that, she even remembered your name, Hendrickson! "How's that gun rack coming?"

Dwight looked up and smiled at the energetic ball of fur bounding towards them, Rosa in tow. He tightened the reign on Snoopy a bit just in case as he gave a nod to Rosa.

"Oh it's coming .... if you like puzzles with no rhyme or reason to the pieces and shapes' he said with a laugh. "Had actually planned on stopping by sometime soon to see if you would be at all opposed to having a new one built instead?"

Rosa, meanwhile, knew that Anna Pavlova was going to be aiming to stop right before reaching Snoopy and would fail entirely and likely go colliding into him instead, and decided to just let that happen.

"Like I said," she looked at Dwight through the entire pending potential collision, "it has sentimental value."

It absolutely did not.

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The Park | Monday Afternoon

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