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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 28.
Gwladys:
One of the things l’Oceanique prides itself on is its concierge service. A guest, particularly a very well-known one, can get literally anything delivered straight to one’s door.
I’ve heard some stories over the years about that, but let it pass.
After I went back upstairs I called the concierge’s desk, and perhaps an hour later I was reading a copy of the prospectus for Clementina Nombre Neuf, S.A.
It wasn’t a bad little company. Well-known in parts of Europe, it had a fairly rosy future until it had summoned all its strength, made a leap at the American market, and fallen flat on its muzzle. Now it was in some distress, with bankruptcy looming.
“What the devil is that you’re reading?”
“Nothing important, Joss. How was your nap?”
My mate grumbled, and frowned as I poured him a glass of juice. “What’s this?”
“It’s quite tasty. Try it.”
Joss looked at it dubiously, sniffed, and took a sip.
A moment passed.
He took another sip. “Hmm, Jaffa orange . . . Seville . . .”
“Your palate is as refined as ever.”
His gaze hardened as he continued to sample it. “Tangerine . . .” He sipped again and his ears twitched. “Carrot? Carrot, yes . . . this isn’t too bad, apart from the seltzer in it.” He finished the glass. “Not for breakfast; more for a snack or something for fawns.”
“I didn’t think it was too bad either.”
“Where did you find it?”
“They were offering it down on the patio. Shall we get ready to go out?”
Joss harrumphed. “Dinner first,” he declared. “I have no idea what those lunatic canines may have on offer, but I’m not facing them on empty stomachs.” With that, he snatched up the phone and started barking orders at the room service operator.
I sighed and decided to take a leisurely bath and then dress for the yacht party.
With Joss having a light snack, I’d have plenty of time.
A cab ride down to the marina and we were faced with the M/V Lovey II.
A very nice yacht, from the outside. It was about sixty feet long, painted dazzling white and sporting three flags: France, the United States, and the crimson banner of Harvard.
Joss was already steaming as we were ushered aboard by an attendant at the gangway, which bent a bit under Joss’ weight.
I couldn’t help but notice that the yacht listed just a bit when my mate stepped aboard.
There were several members of the upper crust gathered, including a cousin of Prince Louis II and the Conde de Conejo with his girlfriend. A number of the idle rich rounded out the party, and there were white-clad waiters offering drinks and canapés.
Joss took a small canapé, nibbling it tentatively before devouring the rest of it. “Vegetable pate,” he grumbled to me. “Not made by carnivores, I’ll tell you.”
“Excellent,” and I helped myself to a canapé while Joss harangued a waiter for a martini.
A string trio above us played a bit of fanfare as the host and hostess made an appearance. Paul was wearing white duck trousers, a dark blazer and his yachting cap, while Eunice was radiant in a very vivid blue evening gown. “HELLO, DARLINGS!” Eunice caroled, while Paul merely grinned around his cigarette holder like Moosevelt and waved graciously.
A few of the guests applauded their hosts as they started to circulate through the crowd, shaking paws.
My ears flicked as I heard a soft scrape of a hoof across the deck, accompanied by a softer snort.
Paul walked up to Joss with a smile. “Terribly sorry about all that in the casino the other night, old top.” He stuck out his paw. “Pax?”
My husband looked as if he wanted to take the offered paw, along with the arm it was attached to, and rip it off Paul’s body. He hesitated, though, and I know what was making him hesitate. You see, Josslyn is very rank-conscious, and has been rather rabid about it since becoming Viscount Buckhorn.
I think having a Spanish grandee and the Prince of Monaco’s cousin watching helped keep him on his best (well, all right, second-best) behavior.
Joss took the paw and grumbled something that might be transcribable as "Mrghrpghpaxgrgle.”
I could almost hear the “for now” hanging off the end of the word.
As the duCledses moved off Joss growled to me sotto voce, “Keep your flag to the rail at all times, woman.”
“I don’t think he’ll do anything like that, dear.”
“Why not?”
“His wife’s hanging on one of his arms.”
“Hmm.” The look on Joss’ face told me that he might get a certain grim pleasure out of watching Eunice hitting Paul.
I very much doubted that he’d see that.
The party started moving a bit better, with some dancing and waiters circulating. It was fairly easy to spot Eunice in the crowd. Her voice would have deafened any bats in the area.
Paul, on the other paw, had buttonholed the Conde and was holding forth about Spain. “Lovey and I stopped at Barcelona a couple of years ago. Very beautiful place – or was, at any rate.”
The rabbit regarded his flute of champagne somberly. “Yes, it is most unfortunate,” he said carefully in English.
Joss piped up. “That’s what you get for letting the Reds run your country. They’ll always ruin it if you give them half a chance.”
Paul grinned as the Conde nodded ruefully. “Yes, we’re having much the same trouble back home,” the canine said. “Still, we got out before things went too far south.”
“It won’t end well.”
“Oh, yes, quite agree, old top. I worry sometimes about Les and his wife. Still, Pete’s got the family business well in paw – despite our sisters.” He drained his glass, and accepted another that he raised in a toast. “Here’s to Huey Long – and I hope he goes away come nineteen-forty.”
Those nearby who heard him seconded the toast with a few scattered “Here, heres.”
Paul downed his drink. “How’s your business going these days, Josslyn?”
“Well enough.”
“I hear your boy’s part of the firm now.”
Joss merely glowered, but his expression didn’t seem to have the deterrent effect he desired.
“Family-owned companies like yours and mine – “
“You went public decades ago,” Joss growled.
Paul nodded. “Not the best idea my great-grandfather ever had, but what can you do? If we try to buy back all those shares, that confounded Red will pounce on it. Honestly, Joss, I’ll tell you that man sometimes makes me sad that I’m canine.” He gave a grin and set his empty glass on a passing tray, then got out his cigarette case. “Still, I don’t hear of any socialist cervines, so you’ve got a leg up on the rest of us, eh? Haw-haw!”
Joss waved at a waiter. “Martini, dry, two olives,” he declared. “See any pirates near Spain?”
I detected a note of hopefulness in his voice.
Paul grinned around his cigarette holder. “Not a one, old top,” and he breezed off to say his goodbyes to the Prince’s cousin.
Joss got his martini and a small plate of canapés, while I joined some of the other femmes for a bit of chat.
I walked over just as Eunice was saying, “And you should have SEEN her! The WORST dress you ever SAW in your LIFE!” Amid laughter she spied me and said, “Gwladys, DARLING! I was just saying that you should have SEEN what they’re offering in PARIS for the FALL! It’s simply HIDEOUS!”
“Oh, come now, it can’t be as bad as that – “
“As bad as THAT? Why, my dear, it’s simply DREADFUL! Half the models looked like they were wearing SACKS, and the rest looked like they were from BERLIN!” This drew a lot of tittering from most of the crowd. The Conde’s girlfriend just looked uncomfortable, and Eunice pounced on her. Taking her paws in hers she caroled, “Don’t WORRY, dear! I SWEAR there’s no secret police aboard!”
Elizabeth still looked dubious. She caught my eye and gave an almost unnoticed shake of her head.
My heart went out to her just a bit.
As the night wore merrily on, I kept half an eye on Josslyn. He’d been drinking a few martinis, but all told he wasn’t overindulging. I guessed that he wanted to keep his wits sharp in case Paul started going all hail-fellow-well-met again.
I noted with some trepidation that the host of the party had so far imbibed a full bottle of champagne, one glass at a time.
About nine o’clock the Prince’s cousin left, helped on his way by a kiss on the cheek from Eunice and some vigorous pawshaking from Paul. I could see the man massaging feeling back into his paw as he headed down the dock.
“Josslyn!”
And now it’s time for me to head an intoxicated canine off at the pass.
As I headed across the dance floor I had to evade two couples, which gave Paul time to get eye-to-eye with Joss, who didn’t appear to want to talk to the host of the party.
Paul was being persistent though, and I started to worry that Joss might be inclined to use a fist to open the gap a bit.
My mate leaned further back against the polished teak rail.
As I got close enough to say something that could be heard, my ears swiveled at a cracking sound.
The rail parted.
And I reached the broken rail just in time to dodge out of the way of splashed water.
The other party guests and the waiters crowded around me and Paul as we looked down at Josslyn. For his part, my husband was alternately floundering in the water and spluttering in incoherent rage.
“He fallen in the wa-tah!” one waiter exclaimed.
<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 28.
Gwladys:
One of the things l’Oceanique prides itself on is its concierge service. A guest, particularly a very well-known one, can get literally anything delivered straight to one’s door.
I’ve heard some stories over the years about that, but let it pass.
After I went back upstairs I called the concierge’s desk, and perhaps an hour later I was reading a copy of the prospectus for Clementina Nombre Neuf, S.A.
It wasn’t a bad little company. Well-known in parts of Europe, it had a fairly rosy future until it had summoned all its strength, made a leap at the American market, and fallen flat on its muzzle. Now it was in some distress, with bankruptcy looming.
“What the devil is that you’re reading?”
“Nothing important, Joss. How was your nap?”
My mate grumbled, and frowned as I poured him a glass of juice. “What’s this?”
“It’s quite tasty. Try it.”
Joss looked at it dubiously, sniffed, and took a sip.
A moment passed.
He took another sip. “Hmm, Jaffa orange . . . Seville . . .”
“Your palate is as refined as ever.”
His gaze hardened as he continued to sample it. “Tangerine . . .” He sipped again and his ears twitched. “Carrot? Carrot, yes . . . this isn’t too bad, apart from the seltzer in it.” He finished the glass. “Not for breakfast; more for a snack or something for fawns.”
“I didn’t think it was too bad either.”
“Where did you find it?”
“They were offering it down on the patio. Shall we get ready to go out?”
Joss harrumphed. “Dinner first,” he declared. “I have no idea what those lunatic canines may have on offer, but I’m not facing them on empty stomachs.” With that, he snatched up the phone and started barking orders at the room service operator.
I sighed and decided to take a leisurely bath and then dress for the yacht party.
With Joss having a light snack, I’d have plenty of time.
A cab ride down to the marina and we were faced with the M/V Lovey II.
A very nice yacht, from the outside. It was about sixty feet long, painted dazzling white and sporting three flags: France, the United States, and the crimson banner of Harvard.
Joss was already steaming as we were ushered aboard by an attendant at the gangway, which bent a bit under Joss’ weight.
I couldn’t help but notice that the yacht listed just a bit when my mate stepped aboard.
There were several members of the upper crust gathered, including a cousin of Prince Louis II and the Conde de Conejo with his girlfriend. A number of the idle rich rounded out the party, and there were white-clad waiters offering drinks and canapés.
Joss took a small canapé, nibbling it tentatively before devouring the rest of it. “Vegetable pate,” he grumbled to me. “Not made by carnivores, I’ll tell you.”
“Excellent,” and I helped myself to a canapé while Joss harangued a waiter for a martini.
A string trio above us played a bit of fanfare as the host and hostess made an appearance. Paul was wearing white duck trousers, a dark blazer and his yachting cap, while Eunice was radiant in a very vivid blue evening gown. “HELLO, DARLINGS!” Eunice caroled, while Paul merely grinned around his cigarette holder like Moosevelt and waved graciously.
A few of the guests applauded their hosts as they started to circulate through the crowd, shaking paws.
My ears flicked as I heard a soft scrape of a hoof across the deck, accompanied by a softer snort.
Paul walked up to Joss with a smile. “Terribly sorry about all that in the casino the other night, old top.” He stuck out his paw. “Pax?”
My husband looked as if he wanted to take the offered paw, along with the arm it was attached to, and rip it off Paul’s body. He hesitated, though, and I know what was making him hesitate. You see, Josslyn is very rank-conscious, and has been rather rabid about it since becoming Viscount Buckhorn.
I think having a Spanish grandee and the Prince of Monaco’s cousin watching helped keep him on his best (well, all right, second-best) behavior.
Joss took the paw and grumbled something that might be transcribable as "Mrghrpghpaxgrgle.”
I could almost hear the “for now” hanging off the end of the word.
As the duCledses moved off Joss growled to me sotto voce, “Keep your flag to the rail at all times, woman.”
“I don’t think he’ll do anything like that, dear.”
“Why not?”
“His wife’s hanging on one of his arms.”
“Hmm.” The look on Joss’ face told me that he might get a certain grim pleasure out of watching Eunice hitting Paul.
I very much doubted that he’d see that.
The party started moving a bit better, with some dancing and waiters circulating. It was fairly easy to spot Eunice in the crowd. Her voice would have deafened any bats in the area.
Paul, on the other paw, had buttonholed the Conde and was holding forth about Spain. “Lovey and I stopped at Barcelona a couple of years ago. Very beautiful place – or was, at any rate.”
The rabbit regarded his flute of champagne somberly. “Yes, it is most unfortunate,” he said carefully in English.
Joss piped up. “That’s what you get for letting the Reds run your country. They’ll always ruin it if you give them half a chance.”
Paul grinned as the Conde nodded ruefully. “Yes, we’re having much the same trouble back home,” the canine said. “Still, we got out before things went too far south.”
“It won’t end well.”
“Oh, yes, quite agree, old top. I worry sometimes about Les and his wife. Still, Pete’s got the family business well in paw – despite our sisters.” He drained his glass, and accepted another that he raised in a toast. “Here’s to Huey Long – and I hope he goes away come nineteen-forty.”
Those nearby who heard him seconded the toast with a few scattered “Here, heres.”
Paul downed his drink. “How’s your business going these days, Josslyn?”
“Well enough.”
“I hear your boy’s part of the firm now.”
Joss merely glowered, but his expression didn’t seem to have the deterrent effect he desired.
“Family-owned companies like yours and mine – “
“You went public decades ago,” Joss growled.
Paul nodded. “Not the best idea my great-grandfather ever had, but what can you do? If we try to buy back all those shares, that confounded Red will pounce on it. Honestly, Joss, I’ll tell you that man sometimes makes me sad that I’m canine.” He gave a grin and set his empty glass on a passing tray, then got out his cigarette case. “Still, I don’t hear of any socialist cervines, so you’ve got a leg up on the rest of us, eh? Haw-haw!”
Joss waved at a waiter. “Martini, dry, two olives,” he declared. “See any pirates near Spain?”
I detected a note of hopefulness in his voice.
Paul grinned around his cigarette holder. “Not a one, old top,” and he breezed off to say his goodbyes to the Prince’s cousin.
Joss got his martini and a small plate of canapés, while I joined some of the other femmes for a bit of chat.
I walked over just as Eunice was saying, “And you should have SEEN her! The WORST dress you ever SAW in your LIFE!” Amid laughter she spied me and said, “Gwladys, DARLING! I was just saying that you should have SEEN what they’re offering in PARIS for the FALL! It’s simply HIDEOUS!”
“Oh, come now, it can’t be as bad as that – “
“As bad as THAT? Why, my dear, it’s simply DREADFUL! Half the models looked like they were wearing SACKS, and the rest looked like they were from BERLIN!” This drew a lot of tittering from most of the crowd. The Conde’s girlfriend just looked uncomfortable, and Eunice pounced on her. Taking her paws in hers she caroled, “Don’t WORRY, dear! I SWEAR there’s no secret police aboard!”
Elizabeth still looked dubious. She caught my eye and gave an almost unnoticed shake of her head.
My heart went out to her just a bit.
As the night wore merrily on, I kept half an eye on Josslyn. He’d been drinking a few martinis, but all told he wasn’t overindulging. I guessed that he wanted to keep his wits sharp in case Paul started going all hail-fellow-well-met again.
I noted with some trepidation that the host of the party had so far imbibed a full bottle of champagne, one glass at a time.
About nine o’clock the Prince’s cousin left, helped on his way by a kiss on the cheek from Eunice and some vigorous pawshaking from Paul. I could see the man massaging feeling back into his paw as he headed down the dock.
“Josslyn!”
And now it’s time for me to head an intoxicated canine off at the pass.
As I headed across the dance floor I had to evade two couples, which gave Paul time to get eye-to-eye with Joss, who didn’t appear to want to talk to the host of the party.
Paul was being persistent though, and I started to worry that Joss might be inclined to use a fist to open the gap a bit.
My mate leaned further back against the polished teak rail.
As I got close enough to say something that could be heard, my ears swiveled at a cracking sound.
The rail parted.
And I reached the broken rail just in time to dodge out of the way of splashed water.
The other party guests and the waiters crowded around me and Paul as we looked down at Josslyn. For his part, my husband was alternately floundering in the water and spluttering in incoherent rage.
“He fallen in the wa-tah!” one waiter exclaimed.
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / Water Sports
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
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