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fh_alumni2008-11-16 05:56 pm
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Jason's Flat, Brighton, UK - Sunday Afternoon
The tiny, wriggly puppy was having a very good day. The shelter was nice, but it wasn't anything like having a home. He missed his home, with people to cuddle him and shoes to eat.
The blonde girl had cuddled him, and he had licked her nose excitedly. And the boy had rubbed his belly, and how did he know that he liked belly rubs!? And then there had been lots of happy talk about him going home with them. Home! A real home!
He'd been so excited that he wore himself out. He slept most of the way to the flat.
It was okay, the girl said. He would have plenty of time to explore later.
(for one, but also OPEN to any who would call or e-mail either of the duo.)
The blonde girl had cuddled him, and he had licked her nose excitedly. And the boy had rubbed his belly, and how did he know that he liked belly rubs!? And then there had been lots of happy talk about him going home with them. Home! A real home!
He'd been so excited that he wore himself out. He slept most of the way to the flat.
It was okay, the girl said. He would have plenty of time to explore later.
(for one, but also OPEN to any who would call or e-mail either of the duo.)
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"Here, and there, and he had better not eat my juggling balls, I must say, or we'll be talking to the lessor about allowing us to build a doghouse on the balcony, you know."
All of this was said with a grin on his lips. Naturally. It was difficult not to grin when there was a small, snoozy, wriggly sort of puppy invading one's home for the first time.
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He was the most adorable, wonderful, beautiful tiny thing in the world, wasn't he?
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He waggled his fingers about, trying to find the proper word.
"Insulation? The puppy would insulate quite nicely, I suppose, should I have to spend the night in the doghouse. He'll need a name, you know."
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He was also simply adorable when his paws twitched as he slept, and Naminé would need a moment to coo appreciatively.
"Have you surrendered the idea of him being a 'Bonecrusher'?"
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"Only if we're considering naming him something with a proper amount of flash and flair. We can't have a puppy in our home with a name like 'Spot,' after all."
Valentine would have decided the obvious name for the puppy, therefore, would have to be 'Valentine.' Except that could be problematic when explaining who chewed holes in Naminé' sandals, or who peed on the carpet.
Valentine did it!
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"We could name him after an artist," she suggested. "Though he doesn't look much like a Van Gogh or a Monet."
Really, the name 'Valentine' would only have saved Naminé time.
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"Or perhaps Picasso, though his face does seem to be rather all in order, doesn't it?"
It did. It was a very well-organized puppy face, if ever Valentine had seen one.
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She was going to carefully stroke his ears. Lightly, so she didn't wake him.
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He tapped his finger to his chin, considering this further.
"We could take his name from a song or something of the sort, instead. There was a gentleman by the name of Maxwell in a song I heard just the other day. He had a silver hammer..."
Perhaps not.
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Emphasis, perhaps, on the 'silent' part.
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It was a wiggly sort of puppy, at that. Perhaps it evened out?
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"Do you suppose he'd dance for us?" she asked, smiling down at the sleeping figure on her lap. "He hasn't any shoes, but they'd be worn out if he did. Just the sort of gentleman who needs a good home."
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Valentine, naturally, had to reach over and scratch behind the puppy's ear, as well.
"A fitting name, perhaps?"
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It did seem to fit, didn't it?
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