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Very Fawnedly Yours
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)
The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
turnbolt
__________________________________________________
Part 22.
Willow:
Apart from the painting and the letters, I thought that some of the more . . . artistic implements would make interesting gifts.
(WHAT!?)
Well, they’re obviously paw-made, and there’s glass, stone, ceramic – even one or two made of steel . . .
(They should be destroyed, right now!)
Come on, Grace, they are antiques after all. I’ll ship them to Rosie; I'm sure a few at the Double Lotus would both recognize and appreciate their worth.
(You will not!)
You’re no fun. It’s not as if I’m going to corrupt them, Grace . . . some of the girls at the Lotus might appreciate them, you know, especially the one with the –
(I DON'T WISH TO KNOW THAT!)
I could see Grace, her paws over her ears, pronking away with her tail flagging.
***
Lodge:
With a resolution to one problem, I spent a very satisfactory night at the club.
The Buckhorns did give me a weekend off.
The next day I set about resolving the second problem, i.e., what to do about maintaining domestic tranquility.
The solution to that, happily enough, was ready to paw in the person of Miss Muske, an older member of the club who at one time was employed by the Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary.
“I know just the person, Lodge. Her name is Sophia Lovassag.”
“Not a beaver, Miss Muske?”
“No. She is an equine, but eminently suited to your problem.”
“Is she available?”
“Indeed she is. She is at liberty due to economy measures on the part of the Imperial and Royal Household.” I nodded, and she went on, “I shall contact a person I know in the Society to make introductions.”
I smiled. “The Sublime Society of Stoats?”
Miss Muske laughed very pleasantly. “Oh, come now, Lodge! Everyone knows that the Sublime Society of Stoats is a myth!”
“Just the same as everyone knows the Beavers of Baden-Baden are a myth as well.”
“Precisely.”
***
Reggie:
“Lodge! What are you doing back so soon? It’s only lunchtime!”
My boon companion and onetime valet smiled and came in, his bowler hat in his paws. “Good afternoon then, Sir. I take it that all has been satisfactory?”
“Simply ripping, Lodge. Willow and I were looking over some of the things in the attic.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Yes. Quite the set of eye-openers, I can tell you.”
“I’m sure it must have been, Sir.”
“I don’t know about you, Lodge, but I never would have dreamed that our Victorian forebears were doing such things. Those letters should never be allowed to see the light of day, you know.”
“I had guessed that, Sir.”
“But were you able to figure out what to do about it?”
My flat-tailed chum nodded gravely. “I am certain that the various things found in the attic will be gone before the end of the week, Sir.”
“That fast? Splendid!” I had been afraid that maybe Willow and I had set Lodge an insoluble problem. I should have known better; after dealing with me and various alcohol-fueled escapades over the years, Lodge has shown himself to be the problem-solver par excellence.
“Have the Galor Sisters returned, Sir?”
“Hmm? Don’t tell me you’ve figured something out for them, too.”
Lodge gave his usual smile. “You are my employer, Sir. My service would think less of me if I withheld information.”
My wife came into the room just then, wiping her paws on a towel. Willow had made lunch, and wasn’t going to leave any dirty dishes for the staff to come home to. “Does that mean you have something in mind, Lodge?”
“Yes, Ma’am. A slight revision of the household staff is required.”
“Revision?”
“I beg your pardon, Sir. ‘Revision’ is the wrong word. ‘Addition’ may be a happier locution.”
“Well, I’m all ears, Lodge. Let’s hear it.”
“Indeed, Sir. It was my thought that the Galors needed a more feminine approach to supervision.”
“Feminine approach?”
“Yes, Sir. I had thought that engaging a housekeeper would suffice. She could manage the maids and Mr. Coney, leaving me to superintend the overall management of the house and Mr. Barker.”
“Division of labor, Lodge? Careful with that – that’s how they got the Czar, you know.”
“I assure you, Sir, that none of the staff are interested in raising the red flag.”
“I’m jolly glad to hear it. You know, Willow, I’ve always wondered something.”
“What’s that, Reggie?”
“There was a Czar, and a Czarina. Why weren’t their kids named Czardines?”
***
Willow:
I refrained from throwing my towel at Reggie for that.
I’d get him later.
By the time dinner rolled around we had dinner prepared and the radio was playing some very nice dance music. Mr. Coney and Nosey showed up first, thanking us for cooking dinner.
Zenobia and Paczki showed up a bit later, Zenobia sporting a shiner.
I guess they took advantage of the weekend off to continue their discussion about Lodge.
Several days later Reggie was at work when Lodge appeared in the doorway of the sitting room. “Yes, Lodge?”
“Ma’am, the housekeeper is here.”
I laid the newspaper aside and smoothed out my dress. “Send her in, please.”
“Of course. Ma’am, may I present Miss Sophia Lovassag.” He stepped aside.
Oh, my.
Miss Lovassag filled the doorway.
Not that she was fat; there didn’t seem to be an extra ounce on her.
She was a big woman, a mare with a spotless and sleek iron-gray hide. She was dressed in black, with her paws demurely folded together before her. Her mane was black, done up very severely.
I thought that the temperature dropped when she walked in.
She gave a slight curtsy. “Mrs. Buckhorn.” Her accent was Hungarian, but much more cultured than the Galors.
I almost felt intimidated. She may have spoken softly, but there was nothing soft about her tone.
I’ve seen steel that wasn’t that hard.
“Miss Lovassag. Please, come in and have a seat.”
“Thank you, Madam, but I shall remain standing.”
“As you wish. Lodge tells me and Mr. Buckhorn that you come highly recommended.”
“Yes, Madam. I served twenty-five years in the household of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary.”
“Twenty-five years?”
“Yes, Madam.”
“How old are you, if I may ask?”
“I am forty-three, Madam.”
I was impressed. I was sure she wasn’t a day over thirty, and said so.
This granted me a tiny smile as a reward for the compliment. “I obey a strict diet and exercise regimen, Ma’am, as well as bathing in cold water throughout the year.”
That didn’t surprise me.
We talked a bit about her other qualifications, and what she expected to get paid. The amount was perfectly reasonable, as well as being within the budget – of course, Lodge would have done his homework in that regard.
“I just want to warn you, Miss Lovassag, our two maids – Paczki and Zenobia Galor – have been a bit of a pawful.” I explained, and gave a capsule description of each.
Again with the smile, accompanied by a tiny snort.
I almost expected to see smoke coming from her nostrils.
“I have dealt with drunken honvedi in my time, Madam Buckhorn. Do you think two little menyeti shall frighten me?”
I smiled and stood up.
“You’re hired, Miss Lovassag. Can you start tonight?”
She curtsied, ramrod-straight.
“Yes, Madam.”
***
Reggie:
Around suppertime I heard a bit of a racket coming from the direction of the kitchen.
There were a few voices raised, along with what sounded like mustelid squealing and indignant voices. A few sobs and tearful stuttering, as well.
Far as I know, there’s no cats hiding in the branches of the old family tree, but I have to say I was curious about this. I opened the door and looked inside.
What I saw was our new housekeeper, a rather hefty example of the equine femme, with a sobbing marten under each arm. Willow had told me about Sophia, but I was immediately put in mind of La Assendonk, Toby Trotter’s inamorata.
Mr. Coney watched as Sophia carried Paczki and Zenobia into the butler’s pantry, then gave me a smile and a shrug.
I withdrew to await dinner, feeling that domestic tranquility had been restored.
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
turnbolt__________________________________________________
Part 22.
Willow:
Apart from the painting and the letters, I thought that some of the more . . . artistic implements would make interesting gifts.
(WHAT!?)
Well, they’re obviously paw-made, and there’s glass, stone, ceramic – even one or two made of steel . . .
(They should be destroyed, right now!)
Come on, Grace, they are antiques after all. I’ll ship them to Rosie; I'm sure a few at the Double Lotus would both recognize and appreciate their worth.
(You will not!)
You’re no fun. It’s not as if I’m going to corrupt them, Grace . . . some of the girls at the Lotus might appreciate them, you know, especially the one with the –
(I DON'T WISH TO KNOW THAT!)
I could see Grace, her paws over her ears, pronking away with her tail flagging.
***
Lodge:
With a resolution to one problem, I spent a very satisfactory night at the club.
The Buckhorns did give me a weekend off.
The next day I set about resolving the second problem, i.e., what to do about maintaining domestic tranquility.
The solution to that, happily enough, was ready to paw in the person of Miss Muske, an older member of the club who at one time was employed by the Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary.
“I know just the person, Lodge. Her name is Sophia Lovassag.”
“Not a beaver, Miss Muske?”
“No. She is an equine, but eminently suited to your problem.”
“Is she available?”
“Indeed she is. She is at liberty due to economy measures on the part of the Imperial and Royal Household.” I nodded, and she went on, “I shall contact a person I know in the Society to make introductions.”
I smiled. “The Sublime Society of Stoats?”
Miss Muske laughed very pleasantly. “Oh, come now, Lodge! Everyone knows that the Sublime Society of Stoats is a myth!”
“Just the same as everyone knows the Beavers of Baden-Baden are a myth as well.”
“Precisely.”
***
Reggie:
“Lodge! What are you doing back so soon? It’s only lunchtime!”
My boon companion and onetime valet smiled and came in, his bowler hat in his paws. “Good afternoon then, Sir. I take it that all has been satisfactory?”
“Simply ripping, Lodge. Willow and I were looking over some of the things in the attic.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Yes. Quite the set of eye-openers, I can tell you.”
“I’m sure it must have been, Sir.”
“I don’t know about you, Lodge, but I never would have dreamed that our Victorian forebears were doing such things. Those letters should never be allowed to see the light of day, you know.”
“I had guessed that, Sir.”
“But were you able to figure out what to do about it?”
My flat-tailed chum nodded gravely. “I am certain that the various things found in the attic will be gone before the end of the week, Sir.”
“That fast? Splendid!” I had been afraid that maybe Willow and I had set Lodge an insoluble problem. I should have known better; after dealing with me and various alcohol-fueled escapades over the years, Lodge has shown himself to be the problem-solver par excellence.
“Have the Galor Sisters returned, Sir?”
“Hmm? Don’t tell me you’ve figured something out for them, too.”
Lodge gave his usual smile. “You are my employer, Sir. My service would think less of me if I withheld information.”
My wife came into the room just then, wiping her paws on a towel. Willow had made lunch, and wasn’t going to leave any dirty dishes for the staff to come home to. “Does that mean you have something in mind, Lodge?”
“Yes, Ma’am. A slight revision of the household staff is required.”
“Revision?”
“I beg your pardon, Sir. ‘Revision’ is the wrong word. ‘Addition’ may be a happier locution.”
“Well, I’m all ears, Lodge. Let’s hear it.”
“Indeed, Sir. It was my thought that the Galors needed a more feminine approach to supervision.”
“Feminine approach?”
“Yes, Sir. I had thought that engaging a housekeeper would suffice. She could manage the maids and Mr. Coney, leaving me to superintend the overall management of the house and Mr. Barker.”
“Division of labor, Lodge? Careful with that – that’s how they got the Czar, you know.”
“I assure you, Sir, that none of the staff are interested in raising the red flag.”
“I’m jolly glad to hear it. You know, Willow, I’ve always wondered something.”
“What’s that, Reggie?”
“There was a Czar, and a Czarina. Why weren’t their kids named Czardines?”
***
Willow:
I refrained from throwing my towel at Reggie for that.
I’d get him later.
By the time dinner rolled around we had dinner prepared and the radio was playing some very nice dance music. Mr. Coney and Nosey showed up first, thanking us for cooking dinner.
Zenobia and Paczki showed up a bit later, Zenobia sporting a shiner.
I guess they took advantage of the weekend off to continue their discussion about Lodge.
Several days later Reggie was at work when Lodge appeared in the doorway of the sitting room. “Yes, Lodge?”
“Ma’am, the housekeeper is here.”
I laid the newspaper aside and smoothed out my dress. “Send her in, please.”
“Of course. Ma’am, may I present Miss Sophia Lovassag.” He stepped aside.
Oh, my.
Miss Lovassag filled the doorway.
Not that she was fat; there didn’t seem to be an extra ounce on her.
She was a big woman, a mare with a spotless and sleek iron-gray hide. She was dressed in black, with her paws demurely folded together before her. Her mane was black, done up very severely.
I thought that the temperature dropped when she walked in.
She gave a slight curtsy. “Mrs. Buckhorn.” Her accent was Hungarian, but much more cultured than the Galors.
I almost felt intimidated. She may have spoken softly, but there was nothing soft about her tone.
I’ve seen steel that wasn’t that hard.
“Miss Lovassag. Please, come in and have a seat.”
“Thank you, Madam, but I shall remain standing.”
“As you wish. Lodge tells me and Mr. Buckhorn that you come highly recommended.”
“Yes, Madam. I served twenty-five years in the household of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary.”
“Twenty-five years?”
“Yes, Madam.”
“How old are you, if I may ask?”
“I am forty-three, Madam.”
I was impressed. I was sure she wasn’t a day over thirty, and said so.
This granted me a tiny smile as a reward for the compliment. “I obey a strict diet and exercise regimen, Ma’am, as well as bathing in cold water throughout the year.”
That didn’t surprise me.
We talked a bit about her other qualifications, and what she expected to get paid. The amount was perfectly reasonable, as well as being within the budget – of course, Lodge would have done his homework in that regard.
“I just want to warn you, Miss Lovassag, our two maids – Paczki and Zenobia Galor – have been a bit of a pawful.” I explained, and gave a capsule description of each.
Again with the smile, accompanied by a tiny snort.
I almost expected to see smoke coming from her nostrils.
“I have dealt with drunken honvedi in my time, Madam Buckhorn. Do you think two little menyeti shall frighten me?”
I smiled and stood up.
“You’re hired, Miss Lovassag. Can you start tonight?”
She curtsied, ramrod-straight.
“Yes, Madam.”
***
Reggie:
Around suppertime I heard a bit of a racket coming from the direction of the kitchen.
There were a few voices raised, along with what sounded like mustelid squealing and indignant voices. A few sobs and tearful stuttering, as well.
Far as I know, there’s no cats hiding in the branches of the old family tree, but I have to say I was curious about this. I opened the door and looked inside.
What I saw was our new housekeeper, a rather hefty example of the equine femme, with a sobbing marten under each arm. Willow had told me about Sophia, but I was immediately put in mind of La Assendonk, Toby Trotter’s inamorata.
Mr. Coney watched as Sophia carried Paczki and Zenobia into the butler’s pantry, then gave me a smile and a shrug.
I withdrew to await dinner, feeling that domestic tranquility had been restored.
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
Listed in Folders
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