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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 51.
Reggie:
Willow spent the rest of the flight in bed. Fortunately the weather, though cold outside, managed to stay fairly clear and smooth until the plane settled into the water off Long Island. It was quite a tribute to its makers, and to my mind the crew deserved a bonus.
The place that we were landing at was fairly new, and Captain Fisher called it a ‘marine/air terminal.’ He explained that the Sire had ordered it built so he wouldn’t have to waste time in airports, and was planning to lease it to an airline or two starting later in the year.
Again, the Sire has a deep well of good ideas.
Even more evidence of how unprepared I am to replace him.
There was a Customs officer there, and we assured him that we had nothing to declare other than that flying in mid-winter is no fun at all. After that I bundled Willow in a taxi and off we sped to her appointment.
I spent a good hour cooling my hooves until the doctor called me in. Said medico, a rather pleasant elderly equine, ushered me into a seat beside Willow. She looked a bit relieved.
“Mr. Buckhorn, I have finished the examination on your wife,” he said. “Your wife asked that you be in here to hear the results.” He shook his mane a bit, as if the idea of a husband being in the room was most irregular.
“Overall, your wife is in excellent health, despite the rigors of a transatlantic flight. Your fawn is also in good health.”
Willow’s paw found mine, and squeezed.
“However, I must recommend bed rest for Mrs. Buckhorn until she fully recovers.”
“For how long?”
“Oh, at most a few days, I should think, and then take it easy for another week.”
I was relieved. I was afraid he’d say six weeks or something.
***
Willow:
When we left the doctor’s office, my beloved sat back in the cab, looking a bit down in the muzzle. “What’s wrong, darling?”
“Hmm?”
“Why the long face? And if you say ‘heavy dentures,’ you’ll regret it.”
He laughed and gave me a kiss. “That’s a very poor joke, love.”
“America’s in a recession, remember. It’s all I could afford.” We laughed and I said, “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Well, I’m thinking about what the doctor said, you know. You need bed rest.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. So we’re going to board the consist at Penn Station, and go on to Philadelphia.”
“Philadelphia?”
“Yes. I’m sure Mummy won’t mind having you putting up at the Bellevue-Stagford – “
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I told you that I’m coming with you, and I meant it.”
Reggie looked hurt. “I don’t – dash it all, Willow, I don’t want you putting yourself at risk!”
That pink fog gets awfully thick at times, and I took his paw. “Reggie, I won’t be risking myself. The consist has beds, remember?”
“I know, but you’re still going to be expected to walk.”
“I’ll stay off my hooves as much as possible.”
He kissed my paw. “I’ll see to that.”
***
Reggie:
“A wheelchair? What the hell?”
“The doctor did say, love, to stay off your hooves.”
“But – “
“And I do need the exercise,” I pointed out.
Willow giggled. “Now I can complain to Gwladys that you’re pushing me around.”
***
Willow:
Compared to our trip on the Aeolus, the FRB consist was as smooth as so much velvet.
Reggie was a dear (well, he’s also a deer, but he’s a dear one). He went out with Lodge and purchased a wheelchair and then spent quite a while fussing over me and making sure I was comfortable, up to and including a thick and very comfy lap blanket. A ramp was brought up to the train to make sure that I wouldn’t have to get out of the chair for any reason.
A soft bed and a light meal did wonders for my stomachs as we pulled out of Penn Station, headed west.
“Willow! What are you doing up?” Reggie asked as we started to cross the Delahare into Pennsylvania. He was seated at the table in the train’s boardroom, with dispatch boxes lying open and papers in front of him.
“I didn’t hear you, so I came looking for you.” I settled into a chair and looked things over. “Your father have you busy?”
“See for yourself.” My buck shook his head. “Nothing but work. There’s mail over there, and some newspapers,” and he pointed to the far end of the table. “Haven’t even glanced at it all yet.”
“Then allow me.” I took up the first envelope. “Hmm. This one’s addressed to me.”
“Eh?”
I slit the envelope open, peeked in, and grinned at him. “A letter from Leslie and Inocenta.”
“Really! Top hole, love! Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Love to. I’ll hold off reading it until we have some refreshments.”
The tea being duly served by Lodge, I spread the letter out. “Ooh! Pictures!” I held up one. “Look at that.”
The picture was a color-process print showing Les and his bride, almost cheek to cheek and holding between them a pair of lively looking brown-furred doe-fawns, who were staring directly at the camera with wide, liquid eyes.
“Our fawn will look better,” Reggie said with a smile. “Still, congratulations all around. What’s in the letter, Willow?”
I took a moment to dry my eyes, which had become very oddly damp. A sip of tea later and I looked at the letter. “Dear Older Sister – “
“’Older sister?’”
I explained.
“Oh. Go on, please.”
“You are now an honorary auntie, and Inocenta and I want to introduce you and Honorary Uncle Reggie to Maria Isabella Eunice and Rosa Luisa Antonia duCleds. They were born November tenth, and are growing like weeds. And roaring like oaks. I think they might have careers ahead of them as either opera divas or streetcar conductors.” We both laughed at that.
“Or Phillies fans,” Reggie mused.
“That’s a profession?”
“More like a public nuisance. Don’t tell Mother,” he added hastily.
I gave him an arch look as I sipped my tea.
Reggie was studying the picture. “I wonder if they’ll eat meat when they grow up.”
“Little Maria and Rosa?”
“Yes. After all, Les always enjoyed a good steak.”
“I don’t really think it works that way, darling. Inocenta’s not a rabbit.” I chuckled. “Besides, a carnivorous rabbit – you only see things like that in the Sunday comics.”
“I suppose you’re right. What else does Les say?”
“He says that Inocenta’s now an American citizen! Imagine that.”
“Have they notified the League of Nations yet?”
We both shared a chuckle over that. “She might violate a few arms treaties, Reggie.” I lowered my voice. “That doe is dynamite!”
“In more ways than one,” and my mate rubbed the scar between his antlers. “What else?”
“Hmm . . . he’s Vice-Chairman, now, and – he’s taking over the company in January of thirty-nine.”
“Jolly good! His Uncle Pierre must be getting ready to retire.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, his uncle’s probably ready to give up in favor of Les, and Les knows a lot more about business than I do.” He frowned. “Father will likely be ninety when he retires.”
I rested my paw on his. “Is that such a bad thing? You admitted to him that you have a lot to learn from him.”
“True for telling. Anything in the news?”
I had to flick my ears at his change of subject, but I picked up the copy of the Evening Bulletin. “Hmm. Speech by President Long to the Anti-Wealth League in front of Independence Hall . . . “ I read a bit further, and felt my tail start flagging angrily.
And I hadn’t done it.
“Blast!”
Reggie’s ears twitched. “Eh?” He looked up at me.
I was on the inside, looking out.
Grace had shouldered past me.
Very irregular, but since I didn’t have my copy of Rabbit’s Rules of Order available, I allowed her to take the floor.
“It is disgraceful – to see America following the same path as New Haven.” I saw her stab a finger down at the paper. “And what’s worse, it’s coming from above, and not from the scum of the sewers!”
“Grace?”
“Yes, Reggie?”
“Calm down. Please?”
“It just makes me – I don’t know – sad, angry – “
Reggie raised a paw. “Grace.”
“Yes?”
“I think you’re wrong?”
I could feel my ears going back.
“What do you mean?”
I listened closely. I was interested in finding out as well.
“I know how you feel about New Haven, but you have to remember two things.”
Grace, I thought, was being a bit too patient.
“First, America is a great deal bigger than New Haven. Lots more people, as I’m sure you know. Even if President Long was a Red Fist fellow – “
(Grace!)
(What?)
(Stop grinding your teeth, Twin. I can’t hear what our husband’s saying.)
“ – there are a lot of people with a lot more common sense than a lot of people give America credit for.” My mate smiled. “That’s a lot of lots, isn’t it? Besides, Long is up for re-election soon – “
“Nineteen-forty.”
“Which gives Americans plenty of time to figure things out for themselves. Second, remember that those people in Washington aren’t the same as the people who were running New Haven.”
That brought Grace up short. We shared the same memories, and I knew that politics in New Haven had turned from sour to rancid since the Great War. My Uncle Prescott had had a paw in that.
(Damn him.)
(Steady, Grace. I’m sure he’s in a very warm place right now, and I don’t mean Miami.)
Grace giggled, a bit hysterically I think, and yielded the chair back to me. I think the pregnancy was affecting her more than it was me.
“I’m back, Reggie.”
“You know, it’s rather hard keeping the two of you sorted, apart from your accents. Perhaps I should give you a name tag as a New Year’s gift.”
“Oh, ha ha. Now,” I said, “suppose you tell me what you’ve got planned for the board of Kernel Komestibles.” This was the company that Reggie had been sent to take care of – to ‘lose his temper at,’ according to his father.
My change of subject caught my mate off guard a bit, and after a few moments he shook his head. “I really hadn’t thought of anything, really. They’ve made a bally fist of things.”
“Is it really that bad?”
He sighed and waved a paw over the assembled papers. “Well, they wanted to safeguard things until the, um, whatdoyoucallit, the – “
“The Reds Act.”
“Yes, that thing – anyway, they went overboard and now Kernel is about to go under. They had to let over a hundred workers go, and the jobs just aren’t there.” He shook his head. “They keep hoping that things will turn around, but – “
I thought things over, and had an idea. “Reggie.”
“Yes, love?”
“Perhaps . . . you don’t need to lose your temper.”
<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 51.
Reggie:
Willow spent the rest of the flight in bed. Fortunately the weather, though cold outside, managed to stay fairly clear and smooth until the plane settled into the water off Long Island. It was quite a tribute to its makers, and to my mind the crew deserved a bonus.
The place that we were landing at was fairly new, and Captain Fisher called it a ‘marine/air terminal.’ He explained that the Sire had ordered it built so he wouldn’t have to waste time in airports, and was planning to lease it to an airline or two starting later in the year.
Again, the Sire has a deep well of good ideas.
Even more evidence of how unprepared I am to replace him.
There was a Customs officer there, and we assured him that we had nothing to declare other than that flying in mid-winter is no fun at all. After that I bundled Willow in a taxi and off we sped to her appointment.
I spent a good hour cooling my hooves until the doctor called me in. Said medico, a rather pleasant elderly equine, ushered me into a seat beside Willow. She looked a bit relieved.
“Mr. Buckhorn, I have finished the examination on your wife,” he said. “Your wife asked that you be in here to hear the results.” He shook his mane a bit, as if the idea of a husband being in the room was most irregular.
“Overall, your wife is in excellent health, despite the rigors of a transatlantic flight. Your fawn is also in good health.”
Willow’s paw found mine, and squeezed.
“However, I must recommend bed rest for Mrs. Buckhorn until she fully recovers.”
“For how long?”
“Oh, at most a few days, I should think, and then take it easy for another week.”
I was relieved. I was afraid he’d say six weeks or something.
***
Willow:
When we left the doctor’s office, my beloved sat back in the cab, looking a bit down in the muzzle. “What’s wrong, darling?”
“Hmm?”
“Why the long face? And if you say ‘heavy dentures,’ you’ll regret it.”
He laughed and gave me a kiss. “That’s a very poor joke, love.”
“America’s in a recession, remember. It’s all I could afford.” We laughed and I said, “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Well, I’m thinking about what the doctor said, you know. You need bed rest.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. So we’re going to board the consist at Penn Station, and go on to Philadelphia.”
“Philadelphia?”
“Yes. I’m sure Mummy won’t mind having you putting up at the Bellevue-Stagford – “
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I told you that I’m coming with you, and I meant it.”
Reggie looked hurt. “I don’t – dash it all, Willow, I don’t want you putting yourself at risk!”
That pink fog gets awfully thick at times, and I took his paw. “Reggie, I won’t be risking myself. The consist has beds, remember?”
“I know, but you’re still going to be expected to walk.”
“I’ll stay off my hooves as much as possible.”
He kissed my paw. “I’ll see to that.”
***
Reggie:
“A wheelchair? What the hell?”
“The doctor did say, love, to stay off your hooves.”
“But – “
“And I do need the exercise,” I pointed out.
Willow giggled. “Now I can complain to Gwladys that you’re pushing me around.”
***
Willow:
Compared to our trip on the Aeolus, the FRB consist was as smooth as so much velvet.
Reggie was a dear (well, he’s also a deer, but he’s a dear one). He went out with Lodge and purchased a wheelchair and then spent quite a while fussing over me and making sure I was comfortable, up to and including a thick and very comfy lap blanket. A ramp was brought up to the train to make sure that I wouldn’t have to get out of the chair for any reason.
A soft bed and a light meal did wonders for my stomachs as we pulled out of Penn Station, headed west.
“Willow! What are you doing up?” Reggie asked as we started to cross the Delahare into Pennsylvania. He was seated at the table in the train’s boardroom, with dispatch boxes lying open and papers in front of him.
“I didn’t hear you, so I came looking for you.” I settled into a chair and looked things over. “Your father have you busy?”
“See for yourself.” My buck shook his head. “Nothing but work. There’s mail over there, and some newspapers,” and he pointed to the far end of the table. “Haven’t even glanced at it all yet.”
“Then allow me.” I took up the first envelope. “Hmm. This one’s addressed to me.”
“Eh?”
I slit the envelope open, peeked in, and grinned at him. “A letter from Leslie and Inocenta.”
“Really! Top hole, love! Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Love to. I’ll hold off reading it until we have some refreshments.”
The tea being duly served by Lodge, I spread the letter out. “Ooh! Pictures!” I held up one. “Look at that.”
The picture was a color-process print showing Les and his bride, almost cheek to cheek and holding between them a pair of lively looking brown-furred doe-fawns, who were staring directly at the camera with wide, liquid eyes.
“Our fawn will look better,” Reggie said with a smile. “Still, congratulations all around. What’s in the letter, Willow?”
I took a moment to dry my eyes, which had become very oddly damp. A sip of tea later and I looked at the letter. “Dear Older Sister – “
“’Older sister?’”
I explained.
“Oh. Go on, please.”
“You are now an honorary auntie, and Inocenta and I want to introduce you and Honorary Uncle Reggie to Maria Isabella Eunice and Rosa Luisa Antonia duCleds. They were born November tenth, and are growing like weeds. And roaring like oaks. I think they might have careers ahead of them as either opera divas or streetcar conductors.” We both laughed at that.
“Or Phillies fans,” Reggie mused.
“That’s a profession?”
“More like a public nuisance. Don’t tell Mother,” he added hastily.
I gave him an arch look as I sipped my tea.
Reggie was studying the picture. “I wonder if they’ll eat meat when they grow up.”
“Little Maria and Rosa?”
“Yes. After all, Les always enjoyed a good steak.”
“I don’t really think it works that way, darling. Inocenta’s not a rabbit.” I chuckled. “Besides, a carnivorous rabbit – you only see things like that in the Sunday comics.”
“I suppose you’re right. What else does Les say?”
“He says that Inocenta’s now an American citizen! Imagine that.”
“Have they notified the League of Nations yet?”
We both shared a chuckle over that. “She might violate a few arms treaties, Reggie.” I lowered my voice. “That doe is dynamite!”
“In more ways than one,” and my mate rubbed the scar between his antlers. “What else?”
“Hmm . . . he’s Vice-Chairman, now, and – he’s taking over the company in January of thirty-nine.”
“Jolly good! His Uncle Pierre must be getting ready to retire.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, his uncle’s probably ready to give up in favor of Les, and Les knows a lot more about business than I do.” He frowned. “Father will likely be ninety when he retires.”
I rested my paw on his. “Is that such a bad thing? You admitted to him that you have a lot to learn from him.”
“True for telling. Anything in the news?”
I had to flick my ears at his change of subject, but I picked up the copy of the Evening Bulletin. “Hmm. Speech by President Long to the Anti-Wealth League in front of Independence Hall . . . “ I read a bit further, and felt my tail start flagging angrily.
And I hadn’t done it.
“Blast!”
Reggie’s ears twitched. “Eh?” He looked up at me.
I was on the inside, looking out.
Grace had shouldered past me.
Very irregular, but since I didn’t have my copy of Rabbit’s Rules of Order available, I allowed her to take the floor.
“It is disgraceful – to see America following the same path as New Haven.” I saw her stab a finger down at the paper. “And what’s worse, it’s coming from above, and not from the scum of the sewers!”
“Grace?”
“Yes, Reggie?”
“Calm down. Please?”
“It just makes me – I don’t know – sad, angry – “
Reggie raised a paw. “Grace.”
“Yes?”
“I think you’re wrong?”
I could feel my ears going back.
“What do you mean?”
I listened closely. I was interested in finding out as well.
“I know how you feel about New Haven, but you have to remember two things.”
Grace, I thought, was being a bit too patient.
“First, America is a great deal bigger than New Haven. Lots more people, as I’m sure you know. Even if President Long was a Red Fist fellow – “
(Grace!)
(What?)
(Stop grinding your teeth, Twin. I can’t hear what our husband’s saying.)
“ – there are a lot of people with a lot more common sense than a lot of people give America credit for.” My mate smiled. “That’s a lot of lots, isn’t it? Besides, Long is up for re-election soon – “
“Nineteen-forty.”
“Which gives Americans plenty of time to figure things out for themselves. Second, remember that those people in Washington aren’t the same as the people who were running New Haven.”
That brought Grace up short. We shared the same memories, and I knew that politics in New Haven had turned from sour to rancid since the Great War. My Uncle Prescott had had a paw in that.
(Damn him.)
(Steady, Grace. I’m sure he’s in a very warm place right now, and I don’t mean Miami.)
Grace giggled, a bit hysterically I think, and yielded the chair back to me. I think the pregnancy was affecting her more than it was me.
“I’m back, Reggie.”
“You know, it’s rather hard keeping the two of you sorted, apart from your accents. Perhaps I should give you a name tag as a New Year’s gift.”
“Oh, ha ha. Now,” I said, “suppose you tell me what you’ve got planned for the board of Kernel Komestibles.” This was the company that Reggie had been sent to take care of – to ‘lose his temper at,’ according to his father.
My change of subject caught my mate off guard a bit, and after a few moments he shook his head. “I really hadn’t thought of anything, really. They’ve made a bally fist of things.”
“Is it really that bad?”
He sighed and waved a paw over the assembled papers. “Well, they wanted to safeguard things until the, um, whatdoyoucallit, the – “
“The Reds Act.”
“Yes, that thing – anyway, they went overboard and now Kernel is about to go under. They had to let over a hundred workers go, and the jobs just aren’t there.” He shook his head. “They keep hoping that things will turn around, but – “
I thought things over, and had an idea. “Reggie.”
“Yes, love?”
“Perhaps . . . you don’t need to lose your temper.”
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
Listed in Folders
Not at all. The USA has never had to get through anything like the Reds Act (formally the Revenue Reapportionment Act of 1937). Wiki the "Share the Wealth" plan set out by Huey Long, and it'll give you an idea of why the moneyed interests and big industrial combines want Long gone.
There was a short scene in Luck of the Dragon with two guys in San Francisco talking about their 'Red checks,' their portion of the money taken from the rich and redistributed.
There was a short scene in Luck of the Dragon with two guys in San Francisco talking about their 'Red checks,' their portion of the money taken from the rich and redistributed.
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