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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
Fluffball
__________________________________________________
Part 43.
Willow:
I hung up the phone after Gwladys and I had chatted for a bit. All I could get out of her was that the shower wouldn’t be here or at Monongahela House.
Well, that wasn’t exactly all; I did manage to find out that it wouldn’t be a replay of my bachelorette party, or involve spending the night in jail (or ‘gaol,’ as they say here). At least, that was hoped; Fate had a funny way of intervening.
So I approached Reggie about it that night after he got home.
“Splendid!” and he shared a long smooch with me. “No going to jail, love.”
“I don’t plan on it, Reggie, and I don’t plan on drinking, either. Our little friend here won’t approve of it.”
My love cocked his head. “Has the little bundle of joy been bothering you today?”
“No. Why?”
“He or she deserves a reward for good behavior,” and with that my husband nuzzled my belly.
“Oh!”
“Ah!” And Reggie straightened, rubbing his nose with a grin. “I am going to hazard a guess, Willow.”
“Yes?”
“It’ll be a buck-fawn. He’s got a good kick.”
That Saturday Reggie had planned on staying home. He was working on something, and was also planning on doing a bit of Christmas shopping. This made the baby shower a very convenient occasion.
I was also planning on doing some shopping for the holiday, but would time it so Reggie was away at work.
About mid-morning on Saturday Lodge presented himself at the sitting room door and announced, “Lady Gwladys is here, Ma’am.”
“Excellent, Lodge, thank you,” and I struggled up out of my chair as Gwladys came in. “Willow!”
“Hello, Grandma.”
She laughed and gave me a hug. “My, you are getting big. When did you say you were due?”
“I think that it’ll probably be the end of January. Maybe February.”
“Try not to have it today. Today we’re going places.”
“Oh? So where are we going?”
My mother-in-law wagged a finger at me. “Never you mind. You’ll find out. Lodge, fetch the lady’s coat, please.”
“Of course, Lady Gwladys,” and Lodge shimmered off to get my coat and hat.
He had us both under an umbrella as we headed for the car. A persistent drizzle was falling as I sat down and scooted over for Gwladys. The driver already had the motor started and the heater running, and he pulled away from the curb after Lodge had shut the door. “You know, I’m getting awfully spoiled.”
“Oh?”
“Well, being driven everywhere and everything – “
“Nonsense. After you have the fawn, you can pester Reggie about getting your own car, I’m sure.”
“I plan on it. But I can’t help feeling I’m being taken for a ride,” and I snickered.
She snickered along with me. “I know what you carry in your purse. Besides, no one where we’re going is named Borgia.”
“I didn’t say they were. But – “
“No, and there’s no Borgias in their bloodlines either.”
Gwladys’ driver cocked an ear as we both laughed and started singing a bit of The Borgias Are Having a Orgy:
“The Borgias are having an orgy;
There's a Borgia orgy tonight,
And isn't it sickening
We've run out of strychnine;
The gravy will have to have ground glass for thickening . . . “
To my surprise we stopped at another house, where a rather bouncy doe – native red, not whitetail - stood waiting beside a maid. The car door was opened and she practically flounced in. “Hi, Aunt Gwladys!” she said with a grin.
“Hi, sweetheart. Willow, this is Arabella Buckhorn. Albert’s wife.”
I blinked and hugged her as she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. So, this was Reggie’s Uncle Albert’s third wife. The chorine from Blackpool.
I started to see what Reggie had been talking about, and hoped that Uncle Albert had been taking his vitamins.
She chattered, mainly to me, about how wonderful it was that I was expecting. When I inquired if she, too, might be anticipating a fawn, she laughed merrily. “Albert’s such a dear, and a buck’s buck too, I’ll tell you, but he and I had a talk right after we got married.” She thought a moment. “When I finally managed to get a word in.”
“And?”
“And he told me he didn’t want any more children.”
“Really.”
“Yes. ‘Course, he’s got eleven fawns by his first two wives.” She snorted. “You’d think he was Catholic.”
I could see what she meant by him being a buck’s buck. I resolved to stay out of reach of his paws.
After a few more minutes the driver announced, “145 Piccadilly, Lady Gwladys.”
“Thank you, Francis. Pull us up at the curb; we’re expected.”
“Yes, m’Lady.”
I blinked at the address, and recognized the front of the place from the newspaper. I felt my eyes go wide and I stared at Gwladys. “We’re – “
She nodded gleefully.
I sat back, and she reached over and closed my muzzle.
Two butlers were waiting, armed with umbrellas, and they escorted us into the hall and took our coats as the lady of the house, a Highlands red doe with well-styled brown headfur, stepped out from the sitting room. “Gwladys.”
My mother-in-law curtsied, and I imitated her as best I could (my passenger was getting in the way). “Your Highness.”
“You know better than that,” and they hugged.
“I was taught good manners,” Gwladys said. “May I present my daughter-in-law, Willow. Willow, this is Her Royal Highness Elizabeth, the Duchess of York, and our hostess.”
She looked like she was going to close my muzzle again, so I shut my yap and curtsied again. “Ma’am.”
“It’s very good to meet you, Willow,” she said with a pleasant smile. “Gwladys has told me quite a bit about you, and asked me to supply the place for this little soiree.”
I had to remind myself that Gwladys was the wife of a viscount, which made Reggie the heir, which made me . . . wow.
Quite a height, Willow.
Make sure you watch your step.
“I’m honored, Ma’am. If my mother-in-law had told me where we were going, I would have dressed for the occasion.”
The Duchess waved this away. “You look simply fine, my dear. Actually you look a bit better than I did when I had my first, so you’ll forgive me if I’m just a little bit jealous.” She turned and said, “And speaking of her, Willow, this is my daughter Elizabeth.”
I was confronted by a girl about eleven years old, who seemed to have a lot of mature gravity about her. She extended a paw, and I took it. “Willow Buckhorn.”
I hope I never stop getting a thrill out of saying that.
“Elizabeth.”
“Shall we go inside? The rest of the group are waiting.” As we started off the Duchess remarked, “My sister-in-law sends her regrets, but she can’t come.”
Waitaminnit.
Sister-in-law?
Did that mean that – ?
Wow.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Gwladys said. “I hope she’s not ill.”
“A bad cold, and the doctors don’t want her getting out of bed. She sent an equerry around with a suitable gift, though.”
“I’ll say a prayer for her and the baby at church tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” She paused at the doorway. “Here we are, and here’s the guest of honor!”
There were two women in the room, and they had both risen as the Duchess came in. They were both canine, with one dressed simply but tastefully. The other, though, was a beagle femme dressed in satin.
The beagle could have carried away a beauty pageant trophy by acclamation if she wished.
The Duchess smiled and indicated each in turn. “Mrs. Violet Atlee, and this is Diana Mosley, the P.M.’s wife.”
I was starting to feel dizzy.
***
Reggie:
Harrods was pretty much as I recalled it as a fawn. A huge place, full of holiday decorations and the hustle and bustle of shoppers. I had a list in my pocket and a whole day to tick off the items on it.
Willow? A new dress, and I’ll have to see about a matching purse.
That’ll require a trip to a good (and discreet) blacksmith. Maybe the one in the village.
And perhaps that diamond pendant I saw at the jeweler’s counter.
The Sire? That was a bit of a poser. Things like cologne would be immediately taken for a personal insult about his scent. I was certain of that.
I’ll have to think about that.
Mummy? New dress, I think.
Lodge? Almost as much a poser as the Sire.
Grandfather? Hmm. Perhaps a trip to the toy department.
<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
Fluffball__________________________________________________
Part 43.
Willow:
I hung up the phone after Gwladys and I had chatted for a bit. All I could get out of her was that the shower wouldn’t be here or at Monongahela House.
Well, that wasn’t exactly all; I did manage to find out that it wouldn’t be a replay of my bachelorette party, or involve spending the night in jail (or ‘gaol,’ as they say here). At least, that was hoped; Fate had a funny way of intervening.
So I approached Reggie about it that night after he got home.
“Splendid!” and he shared a long smooch with me. “No going to jail, love.”
“I don’t plan on it, Reggie, and I don’t plan on drinking, either. Our little friend here won’t approve of it.”
My love cocked his head. “Has the little bundle of joy been bothering you today?”
“No. Why?”
“He or she deserves a reward for good behavior,” and with that my husband nuzzled my belly.
“Oh!”
“Ah!” And Reggie straightened, rubbing his nose with a grin. “I am going to hazard a guess, Willow.”
“Yes?”
“It’ll be a buck-fawn. He’s got a good kick.”
That Saturday Reggie had planned on staying home. He was working on something, and was also planning on doing a bit of Christmas shopping. This made the baby shower a very convenient occasion.
I was also planning on doing some shopping for the holiday, but would time it so Reggie was away at work.
About mid-morning on Saturday Lodge presented himself at the sitting room door and announced, “Lady Gwladys is here, Ma’am.”
“Excellent, Lodge, thank you,” and I struggled up out of my chair as Gwladys came in. “Willow!”
“Hello, Grandma.”
She laughed and gave me a hug. “My, you are getting big. When did you say you were due?”
“I think that it’ll probably be the end of January. Maybe February.”
“Try not to have it today. Today we’re going places.”
“Oh? So where are we going?”
My mother-in-law wagged a finger at me. “Never you mind. You’ll find out. Lodge, fetch the lady’s coat, please.”
“Of course, Lady Gwladys,” and Lodge shimmered off to get my coat and hat.
He had us both under an umbrella as we headed for the car. A persistent drizzle was falling as I sat down and scooted over for Gwladys. The driver already had the motor started and the heater running, and he pulled away from the curb after Lodge had shut the door. “You know, I’m getting awfully spoiled.”
“Oh?”
“Well, being driven everywhere and everything – “
“Nonsense. After you have the fawn, you can pester Reggie about getting your own car, I’m sure.”
“I plan on it. But I can’t help feeling I’m being taken for a ride,” and I snickered.
She snickered along with me. “I know what you carry in your purse. Besides, no one where we’re going is named Borgia.”
“I didn’t say they were. But – “
“No, and there’s no Borgias in their bloodlines either.”
Gwladys’ driver cocked an ear as we both laughed and started singing a bit of The Borgias Are Having a Orgy:
“The Borgias are having an orgy;
There's a Borgia orgy tonight,
And isn't it sickening
We've run out of strychnine;
The gravy will have to have ground glass for thickening . . . “
To my surprise we stopped at another house, where a rather bouncy doe – native red, not whitetail - stood waiting beside a maid. The car door was opened and she practically flounced in. “Hi, Aunt Gwladys!” she said with a grin.
“Hi, sweetheart. Willow, this is Arabella Buckhorn. Albert’s wife.”
I blinked and hugged her as she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. So, this was Reggie’s Uncle Albert’s third wife. The chorine from Blackpool.
I started to see what Reggie had been talking about, and hoped that Uncle Albert had been taking his vitamins.
She chattered, mainly to me, about how wonderful it was that I was expecting. When I inquired if she, too, might be anticipating a fawn, she laughed merrily. “Albert’s such a dear, and a buck’s buck too, I’ll tell you, but he and I had a talk right after we got married.” She thought a moment. “When I finally managed to get a word in.”
“And?”
“And he told me he didn’t want any more children.”
“Really.”
“Yes. ‘Course, he’s got eleven fawns by his first two wives.” She snorted. “You’d think he was Catholic.”
I could see what she meant by him being a buck’s buck. I resolved to stay out of reach of his paws.
After a few more minutes the driver announced, “145 Piccadilly, Lady Gwladys.”
“Thank you, Francis. Pull us up at the curb; we’re expected.”
“Yes, m’Lady.”
I blinked at the address, and recognized the front of the place from the newspaper. I felt my eyes go wide and I stared at Gwladys. “We’re – “
She nodded gleefully.
I sat back, and she reached over and closed my muzzle.
Two butlers were waiting, armed with umbrellas, and they escorted us into the hall and took our coats as the lady of the house, a Highlands red doe with well-styled brown headfur, stepped out from the sitting room. “Gwladys.”
My mother-in-law curtsied, and I imitated her as best I could (my passenger was getting in the way). “Your Highness.”
“You know better than that,” and they hugged.
“I was taught good manners,” Gwladys said. “May I present my daughter-in-law, Willow. Willow, this is Her Royal Highness Elizabeth, the Duchess of York, and our hostess.”
She looked like she was going to close my muzzle again, so I shut my yap and curtsied again. “Ma’am.”
“It’s very good to meet you, Willow,” she said with a pleasant smile. “Gwladys has told me quite a bit about you, and asked me to supply the place for this little soiree.”
I had to remind myself that Gwladys was the wife of a viscount, which made Reggie the heir, which made me . . . wow.
Quite a height, Willow.
Make sure you watch your step.
“I’m honored, Ma’am. If my mother-in-law had told me where we were going, I would have dressed for the occasion.”
The Duchess waved this away. “You look simply fine, my dear. Actually you look a bit better than I did when I had my first, so you’ll forgive me if I’m just a little bit jealous.” She turned and said, “And speaking of her, Willow, this is my daughter Elizabeth.”
I was confronted by a girl about eleven years old, who seemed to have a lot of mature gravity about her. She extended a paw, and I took it. “Willow Buckhorn.”
I hope I never stop getting a thrill out of saying that.
“Elizabeth.”
“Shall we go inside? The rest of the group are waiting.” As we started off the Duchess remarked, “My sister-in-law sends her regrets, but she can’t come.”
Waitaminnit.
Sister-in-law?
Did that mean that – ?
Wow.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Gwladys said. “I hope she’s not ill.”
“A bad cold, and the doctors don’t want her getting out of bed. She sent an equerry around with a suitable gift, though.”
“I’ll say a prayer for her and the baby at church tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” She paused at the doorway. “Here we are, and here’s the guest of honor!”
There were two women in the room, and they had both risen as the Duchess came in. They were both canine, with one dressed simply but tastefully. The other, though, was a beagle femme dressed in satin.
The beagle could have carried away a beauty pageant trophy by acclamation if she wished.
The Duchess smiled and indicated each in turn. “Mrs. Violet Atlee, and this is Diana Mosley, the P.M.’s wife.”
I was starting to feel dizzy.
***
Reggie:
Harrods was pretty much as I recalled it as a fawn. A huge place, full of holiday decorations and the hustle and bustle of shoppers. I had a list in my pocket and a whole day to tick off the items on it.
Willow? A new dress, and I’ll have to see about a matching purse.
That’ll require a trip to a good (and discreet) blacksmith. Maybe the one in the village.
And perhaps that diamond pendant I saw at the jeweler’s counter.
The Sire? That was a bit of a poser. Things like cologne would be immediately taken for a personal insult about his scent. I was certain of that.
I’ll have to think about that.
Mummy? New dress, I think.
Lodge? Almost as much a poser as the Sire.
Grandfather? Hmm. Perhaps a trip to the toy department.
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 500 x 669px
File Size 486.1 kB
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