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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 63.
Willow:
Reggie was getting dressed, while one of the maids fussed over me.
Well, I say he was getting dressed.
So far, he was wearing his shirt around his waist and was valiantly trying to put his pants on, one arm at a time.
He stumbled out of the room, almost colliding with Gwladys.
“Hello, dear.”
“Gwladys! . . . Owwwowowoww . . . “
“I think you’re having the baby.”
I bit back what I wanted to say. “But this can’t be happening now!”
“I’d say you’re wrong.”
“I’m a week early!”
***
Gwladys:
She had me there. When has a Buckhorn ever been early?
I brushed my daughter-in-law’s headfur from her brow.
“The first one comes when he’s damned good and ready, m’girl. Reggie was two weeks late, as I recall.”
***
Reggie:
Dratted trousers.
Those Rain Island chaps have it right. They wear overalls, I think. Easy to put on.
Of course, they also wear plaid.
Lodge was helping me get dressed, and there were a lot a people moving about.
Hard to see who was who.
Of course, it might have been because of the sweater getting tangled up in my antlers.
***
Josslyn:
Son.
Daughter.
Fawn.
Oh, God.
Maybe not a good idea to drink so much Scotch with those dratted pills.
Room keeps circling around me.
Floor keeps wobbling like pudding.
Mmm, pudding.
Chilly in here, too.
***
Lodge:
As soon as Mr. Buckhorn had extricated himself from his sweater, he bolted for the front door.
Unfortunately, he collided with the unfortunate Mr. Gumpert, who was coming to the door to help Mrs. Buckhorn to the car.
Mr. Buckhorn snatched the keys to the Crossley, shouting “I’mdrivingshe’smywife!”
Whereupon he leaped into the car, started the engine and roared off.
I could see that there was someone in the back seat.
“Lodge?”
I turned to see Lady Buckhorn pushing a wheelchair. Mrs. Buckhorn was in the wheelchair.
Oh, dear.
“Where’s Reggie gone, Lodge?” Mrs. Buckhorn asked.
“I believe he has gone on to the hospital, Ma’am.”
“Without me.”
“I fear so.”
The head butler, Travis, walked up. “Lady Buckhorn?”
“Yes, Travis?”
“I cannot seem to find His Lordship.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s capable of hiding, Travis. There are no Zeppelin hangars nearby.”
“I regret to say, my Lady, that Lord Josslyn may have taken a nip of Scotch.”
“Define, in this context, ‘nip.’”
Travis maintained an impenetrable sang-froid. “Two fingers, my Lady.”
Lady Gwladys looked irritated. “Oh, Lord, and I know the size of his fingers.” She gave a sigh that was equal parts resignation and exasperation. “Come on, Willow, we'll take the Bentley. Travis, be a dear and go upstairs and get my keys, will you?"
***
Reggie:
The Crossley’s engine roared in tribute to the care Nosey and Apollo had lavished on it. We barreled down the drive and fishtailed out onto the main road into St. Peter Churchford.
Within minutes we were on the main roadway to Chipping Buncombe, leaving the villagers turning on lights to see what the commotion was all about.
There was a muffled moan in the back seat.
“Hang on, Willow my love! We’re almost there!”
***
Josslyn:
Mmm . . .
Pudding.
***
Gwladys:
Of course I know how to drive. I’m content to be driven here and there in the Rolls, but the Bentley’s mine.
Phillips, our driver, keeps it in top shape.
And, lest you start thinking it’s wrong for a defenseless older woman to drive about on her own, there’s a revolver in the glove box.
And another under the driver’s seat.
And another – well, let’s not give away all my secrets, shall we?
I heard Willow groan in the back seat. “You okay back there?”
“I . . . I think so. Owwww . . .”
A swift glance at the car’s clock. “Contractions are about two minutes apart. You’re doing fine, Willow.”
“Where’s . . . where’s Reggie?”
I chuckled. “Probably at the hospital by now.”
<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 63.
Willow:
Reggie was getting dressed, while one of the maids fussed over me.
Well, I say he was getting dressed.
So far, he was wearing his shirt around his waist and was valiantly trying to put his pants on, one arm at a time.
He stumbled out of the room, almost colliding with Gwladys.
“Hello, dear.”
“Gwladys! . . . Owwwowowoww . . . “
“I think you’re having the baby.”
I bit back what I wanted to say. “But this can’t be happening now!”
“I’d say you’re wrong.”
“I’m a week early!”
***
Gwladys:
She had me there. When has a Buckhorn ever been early?
I brushed my daughter-in-law’s headfur from her brow.
“The first one comes when he’s damned good and ready, m’girl. Reggie was two weeks late, as I recall.”
***
Reggie:
Dratted trousers.
Those Rain Island chaps have it right. They wear overalls, I think. Easy to put on.
Of course, they also wear plaid.
Lodge was helping me get dressed, and there were a lot a people moving about.
Hard to see who was who.
Of course, it might have been because of the sweater getting tangled up in my antlers.
***
Josslyn:
Son.
Daughter.
Fawn.
Oh, God.
Maybe not a good idea to drink so much Scotch with those dratted pills.
Room keeps circling around me.
Floor keeps wobbling like pudding.
Mmm, pudding.
Chilly in here, too.
***
Lodge:
As soon as Mr. Buckhorn had extricated himself from his sweater, he bolted for the front door.
Unfortunately, he collided with the unfortunate Mr. Gumpert, who was coming to the door to help Mrs. Buckhorn to the car.
Mr. Buckhorn snatched the keys to the Crossley, shouting “I’mdrivingshe’smywife!”
Whereupon he leaped into the car, started the engine and roared off.
I could see that there was someone in the back seat.
“Lodge?”
I turned to see Lady Buckhorn pushing a wheelchair. Mrs. Buckhorn was in the wheelchair.
Oh, dear.
“Where’s Reggie gone, Lodge?” Mrs. Buckhorn asked.
“I believe he has gone on to the hospital, Ma’am.”
“Without me.”
“I fear so.”
The head butler, Travis, walked up. “Lady Buckhorn?”
“Yes, Travis?”
“I cannot seem to find His Lordship.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s capable of hiding, Travis. There are no Zeppelin hangars nearby.”
“I regret to say, my Lady, that Lord Josslyn may have taken a nip of Scotch.”
“Define, in this context, ‘nip.’”
Travis maintained an impenetrable sang-froid. “Two fingers, my Lady.”
Lady Gwladys looked irritated. “Oh, Lord, and I know the size of his fingers.” She gave a sigh that was equal parts resignation and exasperation. “Come on, Willow, we'll take the Bentley. Travis, be a dear and go upstairs and get my keys, will you?"
***
Reggie:
The Crossley’s engine roared in tribute to the care Nosey and Apollo had lavished on it. We barreled down the drive and fishtailed out onto the main road into St. Peter Churchford.
Within minutes we were on the main roadway to Chipping Buncombe, leaving the villagers turning on lights to see what the commotion was all about.
There was a muffled moan in the back seat.
“Hang on, Willow my love! We’re almost there!”
***
Josslyn:
Mmm . . .
Pudding.
***
Gwladys:
Of course I know how to drive. I’m content to be driven here and there in the Rolls, but the Bentley’s mine.
Phillips, our driver, keeps it in top shape.
And, lest you start thinking it’s wrong for a defenseless older woman to drive about on her own, there’s a revolver in the glove box.
And another under the driver’s seat.
And another – well, let’s not give away all my secrets, shall we?
I heard Willow groan in the back seat. “You okay back there?”
“I . . . I think so. Owwww . . .”
A swift glance at the car’s clock. “Contractions are about two minutes apart. You’re doing fine, Willow.”
“Where’s . . . where’s Reggie?”
I chuckled. “Probably at the hospital by now.”
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
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