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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 31.
Gwladys:
The last time I saw Celestine’s wolf boyfriend, he was being taken off the train on a stretcher.
He might need major surgery to get the smile off his face.
While Josslyn and I were leaving the wagon-lit, I overheard a porter and the conductor talking admiringly of “les cerfs.”
“Mon Dieu,” the porter muttered. “Imagine it - at their age . . .”
I slipped my arm in Joss’, and we made our way serenely to the next platform.
***
Reggie:
Tuesday’s board meeting started at eleven-thirty, sharp.
We ran through the agenda, and finally there wasn’t anything else to say.
“Gentlemen, I have something to say.”
Fooled you, didn’t I?
“This company’s been extremely successful over the years. Part of that reason is the dedication of our workers and their desire to innovate that’s made us the industry leader. Another part of the reason is, of course, you members of the Board. Your guidance and advice is, and always will be, invaluable. You can rest assured that when my father gets back from his holiday I will let him know how much you helped me.”
Most of the members looked pleased by this. The Sire was fond of awarding bonuses for performance above and beyond.
"But, of course, there's a final reason for our success, gentlemen, and that’s because there has always been a Buckhorn at the helm. This firm has been, and shall always be, run and owned by a Buckhorn. At the present time, that's the Sire."
I looked around the room.
"And I'm going to make sure he stays in this chair until he decides to leave it." I sat back and smiled. “Meeting adjourned. Oh, Cousin William?”
My American cousin turned to look at me.
“Could you come to my office - at your earliest convenience?"
I took out my watch, glanced at the time, and left the room.
In record time, William was at the door.
"Ah, do come in." I made a point of glancing at my watch again. "Do you know where the office of the Peninsular & Orient Steam Navigation Co. is?"
"Errrr, no?"
"You should."
There was a long pause.
"Errrr, any particular reason?"
"You'll need to enquire as to whether there are any passages . . . for Rangoon." I had his personnel file on the desk in front of me. "I'm transferring you, to a post where your talents may be better appreciated."
He looked shocked. “You’re not waiting for Uncle Josslyn?”
“I think he’ll agree with my decision.”
William swallowed. Hard. “Why am I going to Rangoon?"
"Largely because we don't have an office anymore in Murmansk. Pesky Reds, y'know. But you'll like Rangoon. Nice tropical climate. Just stay within the city limits. Dacoits can be very irritating."
He started looking angry, and I produced an envelope. "Oh, and here's a note from Uncle Albert, by the way."
While he read it, I recalled that the letter seemed pretty thick, in the literal and figurative sense. I got the impression, from when he handed it to me, that it should have been handled with tongs.
A snort drew my attention, and I saw that Cousin William had finished reading Uncle Albert’s note. He had the pages crumpled up in one paw as he growled, "You're not like your Dad. You're WORSE."
That impressed me.
Or depressed me, depending on how you look at it.
“Really? How remarkable. Well, he is coming back later this week, Wednesday I suppose. Would you like to make a comparison in furson?" I stood up to meet him eye to eye. "I sent him full particulars by messenger. I think he’ll get it before he gets on the ferry at Calais. Now, how am I worse?"
"At least he's up front about how much he hates his relatives in America. YOU just hide it."
“I don’t hate my American relatives. Far from it. Just the ones who try to destroy Old Fred’s work. And that brings up an interesting question - why did you throw in with Nigel?"
"Because spreading the stock out to the public will increase our profits. And the only way to take it public is to get your Dad - and YOU - out of the way."
"You make it sound as if we're those dictator chappies down in San Mingus. Well, I can't be one of those. No balconies to make speeches from."
"So why don't you fire me?"
“Two reasons. One, it’s not my privilege, old thing. That's up to the Sire. Two, because you're family. Now, if you'd rather resign, I can accommodate you there."
I placed a single sheet of paper, with one typewritten sentence and a signature line, in front of him, and rested a Barker pen on top.
William deflated. He mumbled something.
"Pardon? I didn't catch that."
"I said I'll be on the next boat."
"To - ?"
"Rangoon."
"Splendid!"
***
Gwladys:
An FRB messenger was waiting for us at the ferry slip, and gave Josslyn a thick, sealed envelope. After we were aboard, he slit it open and started reading.
Joss’ expressions ran a gamut from interest, to outrage and finally . . .
A smile of grudging satisfaction.
“What is it, dear?”
He was apparently still basking in the warm glow of what we had gotten up to aboard the Train Bleu as he passed the letter to me.
“Our fawn’s done well.”
That managed to surprise me.
***
Reggie:
I didn’t call Nigel in immediately after William had cleared off.
I waited for word to get around.
Finally:
“Ah, Nigel. Come on in.”
The ram looked as if he’d rather not, then looked as if he wanted to be preceded by a white flag.
Then he looked as if he might want to brazen it out.
“You know why I asked for you, Nigel.”
“Well, er, that is, I – “
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to fire you.”
“Oh. Demotion?”
“No.”
He gave that big-toothed grin of his.
“But I think we should really discuss it. After lunch, over a few sets of tennis at my club.”
“Tennis.”
“Yes, tennis. You know, the game with the white balls and racquets?”
"Well, don't you know, it's not really my sport - "
“But you do know how to play?"
“Yes, of course, but - "
"Splendid. We'll meet at my club after lunch this afternoon. And do remember, proper attire. Whites, y'know."
***
Willow:
Reggie got home as I was hanging up the phone. “Guess what, Darling?” I asked.
“Hmm. You’re the most beautiful doe in the world?”
“Flatterer. Your mother just called. She and your father just got in.”
“Oh. Good.”
Poor dear looked a bit tired.
“Gwladys also tells me your father read a certain message.”
“Oh?”
“She wanted to tell you that she read it as well, and says ‘Well done.’”
“Heh. That’s something, at least.”
“You look tired. Tell me how your day went.”
I gently took his coat and removed his necktie, then placed him in a comfortable armchair as Lodge came in from the foyer. “Now. How did it go?”
My beloved smiled. “Well enough. William is, by now, getting ready to go to Burma – “
“Burma?”
“Burma. I think a nice sojourn in sunny tropical climes will do him a lot of good.”
“Okeh. And Nigel?”
My Reggie gave me a weary smile. “Willow, y'remember when I played Rosie Baumgartner in the duel?”
Do I ever.
"Yessss?"
Reggie’s grin widened.
"Rosie could beat Nigel."
“Reggie! You SCAMP!” I burst out laughing.
He then proceeded to tell me how he had chased the hapless ram up court and down court, beating him soundly in set after set until Nigel was almost fainting, then rubbed it in by shaking his paw and saying, “Well played, old chap. See you back at the office.”
“So after running him ragged, you had him work the rest of the day.”
“Yes.”
“You’re mean.” I smiled proudly, and gave him a long smooch. “I love you.”
“It is reminiscent of how Henri IV punished Mayenne,” Lodge remarked.
“Just so, Lodge. Er, Willow?”
“Yes, Reggie?”
“You know, I haven’t had a single drink in nearly a week.”
I kissed him again. “Lodge?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“A gin and tonic, please, for Mr. Buckhorn."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Oh, and Lodge?"
“Ma'am?"
"Two fingers."
I held up two fingers.
A bit more than one inch apart.
"Understood, Ma'am."
<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 31.
Gwladys:
The last time I saw Celestine’s wolf boyfriend, he was being taken off the train on a stretcher.
He might need major surgery to get the smile off his face.
While Josslyn and I were leaving the wagon-lit, I overheard a porter and the conductor talking admiringly of “les cerfs.”
“Mon Dieu,” the porter muttered. “Imagine it - at their age . . .”
I slipped my arm in Joss’, and we made our way serenely to the next platform.
***
Reggie:
Tuesday’s board meeting started at eleven-thirty, sharp.
We ran through the agenda, and finally there wasn’t anything else to say.
“Gentlemen, I have something to say.”
Fooled you, didn’t I?
“This company’s been extremely successful over the years. Part of that reason is the dedication of our workers and their desire to innovate that’s made us the industry leader. Another part of the reason is, of course, you members of the Board. Your guidance and advice is, and always will be, invaluable. You can rest assured that when my father gets back from his holiday I will let him know how much you helped me.”
Most of the members looked pleased by this. The Sire was fond of awarding bonuses for performance above and beyond.
"But, of course, there's a final reason for our success, gentlemen, and that’s because there has always been a Buckhorn at the helm. This firm has been, and shall always be, run and owned by a Buckhorn. At the present time, that's the Sire."
I looked around the room.
"And I'm going to make sure he stays in this chair until he decides to leave it." I sat back and smiled. “Meeting adjourned. Oh, Cousin William?”
My American cousin turned to look at me.
“Could you come to my office - at your earliest convenience?"
I took out my watch, glanced at the time, and left the room.
In record time, William was at the door.
"Ah, do come in." I made a point of glancing at my watch again. "Do you know where the office of the Peninsular & Orient Steam Navigation Co. is?"
"Errrr, no?"
"You should."
There was a long pause.
"Errrr, any particular reason?"
"You'll need to enquire as to whether there are any passages . . . for Rangoon." I had his personnel file on the desk in front of me. "I'm transferring you, to a post where your talents may be better appreciated."
He looked shocked. “You’re not waiting for Uncle Josslyn?”
“I think he’ll agree with my decision.”
William swallowed. Hard. “Why am I going to Rangoon?"
"Largely because we don't have an office anymore in Murmansk. Pesky Reds, y'know. But you'll like Rangoon. Nice tropical climate. Just stay within the city limits. Dacoits can be very irritating."
He started looking angry, and I produced an envelope. "Oh, and here's a note from Uncle Albert, by the way."
While he read it, I recalled that the letter seemed pretty thick, in the literal and figurative sense. I got the impression, from when he handed it to me, that it should have been handled with tongs.
A snort drew my attention, and I saw that Cousin William had finished reading Uncle Albert’s note. He had the pages crumpled up in one paw as he growled, "You're not like your Dad. You're WORSE."
That impressed me.
Or depressed me, depending on how you look at it.
“Really? How remarkable. Well, he is coming back later this week, Wednesday I suppose. Would you like to make a comparison in furson?" I stood up to meet him eye to eye. "I sent him full particulars by messenger. I think he’ll get it before he gets on the ferry at Calais. Now, how am I worse?"
"At least he's up front about how much he hates his relatives in America. YOU just hide it."
“I don’t hate my American relatives. Far from it. Just the ones who try to destroy Old Fred’s work. And that brings up an interesting question - why did you throw in with Nigel?"
"Because spreading the stock out to the public will increase our profits. And the only way to take it public is to get your Dad - and YOU - out of the way."
"You make it sound as if we're those dictator chappies down in San Mingus. Well, I can't be one of those. No balconies to make speeches from."
"So why don't you fire me?"
“Two reasons. One, it’s not my privilege, old thing. That's up to the Sire. Two, because you're family. Now, if you'd rather resign, I can accommodate you there."
I placed a single sheet of paper, with one typewritten sentence and a signature line, in front of him, and rested a Barker pen on top.
William deflated. He mumbled something.
"Pardon? I didn't catch that."
"I said I'll be on the next boat."
"To - ?"
"Rangoon."
"Splendid!"
***
Gwladys:
An FRB messenger was waiting for us at the ferry slip, and gave Josslyn a thick, sealed envelope. After we were aboard, he slit it open and started reading.
Joss’ expressions ran a gamut from interest, to outrage and finally . . .
A smile of grudging satisfaction.
“What is it, dear?”
He was apparently still basking in the warm glow of what we had gotten up to aboard the Train Bleu as he passed the letter to me.
“Our fawn’s done well.”
That managed to surprise me.
***
Reggie:
I didn’t call Nigel in immediately after William had cleared off.
I waited for word to get around.
Finally:
“Ah, Nigel. Come on in.”
The ram looked as if he’d rather not, then looked as if he wanted to be preceded by a white flag.
Then he looked as if he might want to brazen it out.
“You know why I asked for you, Nigel.”
“Well, er, that is, I – “
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to fire you.”
“Oh. Demotion?”
“No.”
He gave that big-toothed grin of his.
“But I think we should really discuss it. After lunch, over a few sets of tennis at my club.”
“Tennis.”
“Yes, tennis. You know, the game with the white balls and racquets?”
"Well, don't you know, it's not really my sport - "
“But you do know how to play?"
“Yes, of course, but - "
"Splendid. We'll meet at my club after lunch this afternoon. And do remember, proper attire. Whites, y'know."
***
Willow:
Reggie got home as I was hanging up the phone. “Guess what, Darling?” I asked.
“Hmm. You’re the most beautiful doe in the world?”
“Flatterer. Your mother just called. She and your father just got in.”
“Oh. Good.”
Poor dear looked a bit tired.
“Gwladys also tells me your father read a certain message.”
“Oh?”
“She wanted to tell you that she read it as well, and says ‘Well done.’”
“Heh. That’s something, at least.”
“You look tired. Tell me how your day went.”
I gently took his coat and removed his necktie, then placed him in a comfortable armchair as Lodge came in from the foyer. “Now. How did it go?”
My beloved smiled. “Well enough. William is, by now, getting ready to go to Burma – “
“Burma?”
“Burma. I think a nice sojourn in sunny tropical climes will do him a lot of good.”
“Okeh. And Nigel?”
My Reggie gave me a weary smile. “Willow, y'remember when I played Rosie Baumgartner in the duel?”
Do I ever.
"Yessss?"
Reggie’s grin widened.
"Rosie could beat Nigel."
“Reggie! You SCAMP!” I burst out laughing.
He then proceeded to tell me how he had chased the hapless ram up court and down court, beating him soundly in set after set until Nigel was almost fainting, then rubbed it in by shaking his paw and saying, “Well played, old chap. See you back at the office.”
“So after running him ragged, you had him work the rest of the day.”
“Yes.”
“You’re mean.” I smiled proudly, and gave him a long smooch. “I love you.”
“It is reminiscent of how Henri IV punished Mayenne,” Lodge remarked.
“Just so, Lodge. Er, Willow?”
“Yes, Reggie?”
“You know, I haven’t had a single drink in nearly a week.”
I kissed him again. “Lodge?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“A gin and tonic, please, for Mr. Buckhorn."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Oh, and Lodge?"
“Ma'am?"
"Two fingers."
I held up two fingers.
A bit more than one inch apart.
"Understood, Ma'am."
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
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