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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 34.
Reggie:
Not exactly the thing one wants to hear.
Let alone think about.
So, the week after Mummy told Willow where Lincoln Park was we made an appointment to go and visit.
It looked like quite the scenic, almost rustic place, from the main road, with carefully-trimmed hedges flanking a rather severe wrought-iron gate.
I thought the hedges looked quite appetizing. I hadn’t had much to eat for breakfast.
The road leading up to the house was gravel, with expansive lawns on either side. In the distance I could see several people playing croquet.
Well, trying to, at least. One fellow, an elderly and quite bulky cervine, was down on all fours and nibbling on one of the croquet hoops. This activity was apparently getting him some grief from his compatriots. Well, they were trying to play through.
I recognized his species, and realized he must have been from either Scotland or further North, as he was a caribou.
Nosey abruptly put the brakes on and the Crossley caught its breath. Willow and I stared as a stocky bear in a white uniform and a white coat hove into view in the middle of the road.
He was skipping in almost girlish delight down the drive with two similarly-attired chaps chasing him, and as he passed the car we could hear him singing, “Boys and girls come out to play / On the busy motorway!”
The disturbance passed, Nosey shook his head and resumed driving. I turned to Willow.
“I hope they catch that fellow. He might cause trouble if he escaped.”
***
Willow:
There wasn’t all that much to say to that.
“It looks like a nice place, Reggie.”
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it? I hope the house takes after the – hullo!” he said, pointing.
The house appeared through a screen of trees. If anything, it looked bigger than Monongahela House, a rather large and rambling Victorian manor house in light gray stone. There were no bars on any of the windows, which I took to be a hopeful sign.
Since we had called ahead, we had a welcoming committee of two nursing matrons in starched white uniforms waiting for us. One was a rather tall and ascetically thin rodent, while the other was a short and slightly better-built ewe with an open and friendly smile.
Nosey opened the door for Reggie, but let him help me out. As we walked over the rodent said in a crisp tone, “Welcome to Lincoln Park. You are Mr. and Mrs. Buckhorn?”
“That’s us,” Reggie said. “And you are?”
“I am Nurse Rattched, the head of the nursing staff here. This is my assistant, Nurse Staple.”
The ewe gave a head bob and took my paw. “Oh, it’s so nice to have you both here for a visit, my dear. We told Mister Buckhorn you were coming, and he seemed very pleased.”
I smiled back at her. She had a wonderfully sunny demeanor, which made Rattched’s frosty manner and the overcast sky fade into the background. “I’m glad. We’re really looking forward to seeing him. Has he been well?”
“Oh, bless you ma’am, he’s as healthy as a horse,” Staple said. “He only complains when he doesn’t get enough pudding for dessert, and when the orderly forgets to water Mr. Lavender.”
That netted her a look from Reggie. “Mr. Lavender?”
“He talks to plants,” Rattched reminded us in a severe tone.
“Oh, ah, er. He still - ?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“But apart from that he’s simply the most wonderful person. Far and away the best patient we have,” Staple enthused. “You two simply must come in. Dr. Mink’s wanting to talk to you before he takes you in to see your grandfather.” She made beckoning gestures, and Reggie took my paw.
Inside the front hall was clean and very tastefully decorated, again in a Victorian style. Sort of cluttered, with ferns in pots lurking in the corners. Small signs mounted over the doors pointed the way to the patient’s rooms, the dining room, and so on.
One door bore a brass plaque with the name Prof. H. W. Werner Mink.
“This is the director’s office,” Rattched said.
“Werner?” Reggie said. “Not English?”
“Doctor Mink is from Austria.”
“Oh. Righto.”
***
Reggie:
Nurse Rattched announced us, and Willow and I walk into a very nice office, with two walls entirely taken up with diplomas and very impressive-looking papers.
There was a framed photograph of that eminent Austrian brain, Sigmund Fraud, shaking paws with a short white-furred chappie. The wall opposite had a pair of dueling sabers mounted on a plaque.
An older (but not much taller) version of said chappie was standing up and coming out from behind his desk. He was an ermine, not a mink, with white fur trending to silver-gray, going a bit bald between his ears and sporting a monocle like the Sire’s.
Well, we can’t really choose our last names, can we?
He was bowing over Willow’s paw. “I am sehr pleased to make the acquaintance of so lovely a lady! I have the honor of being Herr Professor-Doktor Hermann Wilhelm Werner Mink, of Vienna!”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Doctor,” my beloved said, and he immediately released her paw and seized mine.
“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Mink.” I said.
“Mr. Buckhorn, it is always a pleasure! So wonderful to have relatives of the patients come to visit them!” He ushered us into chairs and turned to a large and rather elaborate tea trolley in one corner. “Would you perhaps like a cup of tea?”
“None for me, thank you. Willow?”
“Yes, I’d like a cup, please. Two sugars.”
“Ausgezeichnet!” He busied himself with the tea and passed Willow a fine white bone china cup and saucer with a small spoon. He lifted a cover and scowled at the contents.
Nothing but crumbs.
“Perhaps you shall be excusing me,” he said in a rather soft tone, and he stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him.
“SCHULTZ!”
Willow almost dropped her tea.
“Ja, Herr Professor?”
“Haben Sie die Plätzchen wieder gegessen?”
Whoever Schultz was, he immediately sounded both defensive and apologetic.
“Nein, Herr Professor! I eat NOSSINK! NOSSINK!”
Dr. Mink stepped back into the office. “I regret I cannot offer you any biscuits with your tea, Mrs. Buckhorn.”
“That’s all right,” my wife said.
“I couldn’t help notice that things seem very open here,” I said. “Do you have many patients go running off?”
Mink looked scandalized. “Mr. Buckhorn! I have been here forty years! There has never been a successful escape from here. Who would want to? We have here a perfect atmosphere to help furs that have, ah, certain problems.”
“Which is?”
“We have a quiet place, with a homelike atmosphere. There are activities that stimulate the brain, ja?”
“Well, I only ask because we saw a fellow trying to escape on the drive in here. Two orderlies were chasing him.”
“So? A bear?”
“Why, yes.”
Mink waved an airy paw. “That was no patient.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. It was Jerzy.”
“Jerzy?”
“Ja. Jerzy Bialowski, one of our head orderlies.”
“ . . . “
“He has been under some stress.”
“Really.”
“Ja, indeed. His flat is rather old, ja? He told me that his neighbors have been quite noisy, and he described the noise as similar to someone riding a motorbike around while someone else banged a kipper on a table.”
“Did he complain?”
“Ja, so he tells me. He said the door was answered by an elephant in a crash helmet, and a walrus was standing by the kitchen door with a large fish in his paws.” Dr. Mink shook his head sadly. “Jerzy has told me that he has not been sleeping well as a result.”
I cleared my throat. “Er, suppose we take a look around? I’d like to see the place a bit before we visit my grandfather.”
“But of course!”
“Finished with your tea, my dear?” I asked Willow.
She nodded and placed the cup and saucer on the desk and got to her hooves with my help. Willow’s at about five months now, and sometimes she has a bit of trouble getting out of chairs.
Dr. Mink took us on a bit of a Cook’s tour of the place. The hallways and common areas were painted white and appeared very well-maintained, while the individual rooms and dining rooms were done up in very cheerful colors (“Very soothing,” the medico said, citing studies that showed that colors can affect peoples’ moods).
There was a garden, with a few of the patients working on getting the plants set up for the winter.
“Your grandfather is in a common area, with a few other patients,” Dr. Mink said. “I shall take you there and leave you with him, eh?”
“That would be jolly nice. Thank you.”
The moment of truth, and Willow took my paw.
<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 34.
Reggie:
Not exactly the thing one wants to hear.
Let alone think about.
So, the week after Mummy told Willow where Lincoln Park was we made an appointment to go and visit.
It looked like quite the scenic, almost rustic place, from the main road, with carefully-trimmed hedges flanking a rather severe wrought-iron gate.
I thought the hedges looked quite appetizing. I hadn’t had much to eat for breakfast.
The road leading up to the house was gravel, with expansive lawns on either side. In the distance I could see several people playing croquet.
Well, trying to, at least. One fellow, an elderly and quite bulky cervine, was down on all fours and nibbling on one of the croquet hoops. This activity was apparently getting him some grief from his compatriots. Well, they were trying to play through.
I recognized his species, and realized he must have been from either Scotland or further North, as he was a caribou.
Nosey abruptly put the brakes on and the Crossley caught its breath. Willow and I stared as a stocky bear in a white uniform and a white coat hove into view in the middle of the road.
He was skipping in almost girlish delight down the drive with two similarly-attired chaps chasing him, and as he passed the car we could hear him singing, “Boys and girls come out to play / On the busy motorway!”
The disturbance passed, Nosey shook his head and resumed driving. I turned to Willow.
“I hope they catch that fellow. He might cause trouble if he escaped.”
***
Willow:
There wasn’t all that much to say to that.
“It looks like a nice place, Reggie.”
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it? I hope the house takes after the – hullo!” he said, pointing.
The house appeared through a screen of trees. If anything, it looked bigger than Monongahela House, a rather large and rambling Victorian manor house in light gray stone. There were no bars on any of the windows, which I took to be a hopeful sign.
Since we had called ahead, we had a welcoming committee of two nursing matrons in starched white uniforms waiting for us. One was a rather tall and ascetically thin rodent, while the other was a short and slightly better-built ewe with an open and friendly smile.
Nosey opened the door for Reggie, but let him help me out. As we walked over the rodent said in a crisp tone, “Welcome to Lincoln Park. You are Mr. and Mrs. Buckhorn?”
“That’s us,” Reggie said. “And you are?”
“I am Nurse Rattched, the head of the nursing staff here. This is my assistant, Nurse Staple.”
The ewe gave a head bob and took my paw. “Oh, it’s so nice to have you both here for a visit, my dear. We told Mister Buckhorn you were coming, and he seemed very pleased.”
I smiled back at her. She had a wonderfully sunny demeanor, which made Rattched’s frosty manner and the overcast sky fade into the background. “I’m glad. We’re really looking forward to seeing him. Has he been well?”
“Oh, bless you ma’am, he’s as healthy as a horse,” Staple said. “He only complains when he doesn’t get enough pudding for dessert, and when the orderly forgets to water Mr. Lavender.”
That netted her a look from Reggie. “Mr. Lavender?”
“He talks to plants,” Rattched reminded us in a severe tone.
“Oh, ah, er. He still - ?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“But apart from that he’s simply the most wonderful person. Far and away the best patient we have,” Staple enthused. “You two simply must come in. Dr. Mink’s wanting to talk to you before he takes you in to see your grandfather.” She made beckoning gestures, and Reggie took my paw.
Inside the front hall was clean and very tastefully decorated, again in a Victorian style. Sort of cluttered, with ferns in pots lurking in the corners. Small signs mounted over the doors pointed the way to the patient’s rooms, the dining room, and so on.
One door bore a brass plaque with the name Prof. H. W. Werner Mink.
“This is the director’s office,” Rattched said.
“Werner?” Reggie said. “Not English?”
“Doctor Mink is from Austria.”
“Oh. Righto.”
***
Reggie:
Nurse Rattched announced us, and Willow and I walk into a very nice office, with two walls entirely taken up with diplomas and very impressive-looking papers.
There was a framed photograph of that eminent Austrian brain, Sigmund Fraud, shaking paws with a short white-furred chappie. The wall opposite had a pair of dueling sabers mounted on a plaque.
An older (but not much taller) version of said chappie was standing up and coming out from behind his desk. He was an ermine, not a mink, with white fur trending to silver-gray, going a bit bald between his ears and sporting a monocle like the Sire’s.
Well, we can’t really choose our last names, can we?
He was bowing over Willow’s paw. “I am sehr pleased to make the acquaintance of so lovely a lady! I have the honor of being Herr Professor-Doktor Hermann Wilhelm Werner Mink, of Vienna!”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Doctor,” my beloved said, and he immediately released her paw and seized mine.
“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Mink.” I said.
“Mr. Buckhorn, it is always a pleasure! So wonderful to have relatives of the patients come to visit them!” He ushered us into chairs and turned to a large and rather elaborate tea trolley in one corner. “Would you perhaps like a cup of tea?”
“None for me, thank you. Willow?”
“Yes, I’d like a cup, please. Two sugars.”
“Ausgezeichnet!” He busied himself with the tea and passed Willow a fine white bone china cup and saucer with a small spoon. He lifted a cover and scowled at the contents.
Nothing but crumbs.
“Perhaps you shall be excusing me,” he said in a rather soft tone, and he stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him.
“SCHULTZ!”
Willow almost dropped her tea.
“Ja, Herr Professor?”
“Haben Sie die Plätzchen wieder gegessen?”
Whoever Schultz was, he immediately sounded both defensive and apologetic.
“Nein, Herr Professor! I eat NOSSINK! NOSSINK!”
Dr. Mink stepped back into the office. “I regret I cannot offer you any biscuits with your tea, Mrs. Buckhorn.”
“That’s all right,” my wife said.
“I couldn’t help notice that things seem very open here,” I said. “Do you have many patients go running off?”
Mink looked scandalized. “Mr. Buckhorn! I have been here forty years! There has never been a successful escape from here. Who would want to? We have here a perfect atmosphere to help furs that have, ah, certain problems.”
“Which is?”
“We have a quiet place, with a homelike atmosphere. There are activities that stimulate the brain, ja?”
“Well, I only ask because we saw a fellow trying to escape on the drive in here. Two orderlies were chasing him.”
“So? A bear?”
“Why, yes.”
Mink waved an airy paw. “That was no patient.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. It was Jerzy.”
“Jerzy?”
“Ja. Jerzy Bialowski, one of our head orderlies.”
“ . . . “
“He has been under some stress.”
“Really.”
“Ja, indeed. His flat is rather old, ja? He told me that his neighbors have been quite noisy, and he described the noise as similar to someone riding a motorbike around while someone else banged a kipper on a table.”
“Did he complain?”
“Ja, so he tells me. He said the door was answered by an elephant in a crash helmet, and a walrus was standing by the kitchen door with a large fish in his paws.” Dr. Mink shook his head sadly. “Jerzy has told me that he has not been sleeping well as a result.”
I cleared my throat. “Er, suppose we take a look around? I’d like to see the place a bit before we visit my grandfather.”
“But of course!”
“Finished with your tea, my dear?” I asked Willow.
She nodded and placed the cup and saucer on the desk and got to her hooves with my help. Willow’s at about five months now, and sometimes she has a bit of trouble getting out of chairs.
Dr. Mink took us on a bit of a Cook’s tour of the place. The hallways and common areas were painted white and appeared very well-maintained, while the individual rooms and dining rooms were done up in very cheerful colors (“Very soothing,” the medico said, citing studies that showed that colors can affect peoples’ moods).
There was a garden, with a few of the patients working on getting the plants set up for the winter.
“Your grandfather is in a common area, with a few other patients,” Dr. Mink said. “I shall take you there and leave you with him, eh?”
“That would be jolly nice. Thank you.”
The moment of truth, and Willow took my paw.
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
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