[Now the old man is on his feet too. He steps lightly, following the noise. Not behind the entertainment center. Not by the trash. It's the door. He stands to the side and then slooowly unlocks.]
I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
[Freddy asks, seeing that nose push in, then a big old skull, followed by broad doggie shoulders and a thick torso. The dog is in. As if the old man was really going to keep Mister Dog out.
[Put him out? He just got here! Larry shuts the door. Mister Dog is still whining a little. His tail wags and wags.]
What's the matter with you? Huh? Did you go for a walk?
[Still a dog. Still can't talk. He knees and suddenly he's getting a face full of dog sniffing, snorting and trying to taste after shave. Okay. Greeted the old one. The other one? Look out Freddy, he's comin' for you!]
[Really? Says the guy who can make toast. Larry sighs too. All the pats to the dog. The canine and the older man sit. Except the dog sits on Freddy's foot.]
You really think he came back because the food was better?
[Things that come out of that mouth. Shit. It would be more judgmental if the old man wasn't smiling.]
[It's a testicle thing, or so Freddy is convinced anyway. It's easier than throwing the big heavy weight out. He can barely get the dog off his foot. And nobody wants to have to wipe that smile off an old man's face.]
[Pat. Pat. Mister Dog's tail thumps on the ground. He doesn't understand what they're saying. Nothing doing. Just being a dog and picking up like he never left.]
Couldn't stand the lady and her brat.
[Yeah. That son of hers was a brat no matter what age or affiliate.]
[The beast can't possibly understand or appreciate the glory of dick sucking quite the way Freddy can. Ahem.]
You think they're looking for him?
[Based on the kid's earlier investigation the answer is 'kind of, maybe, not really, only when it's convenient'. It's not Marisol's fault though, she's getting old. The brat brought the dog in the first place, Marisol was Mister Dog's small mercy. Well, until these guys.]
[Pat pat to the dog as he looks at Larry with a healthy amount of skepticism because the old man is totally trying to say something just spit it out already, Dimmy.]
[He could burst right about now. Larry leans in on Freddy but not in the way that Mister Dog is. With an arm around his shoulder and his mug up in his face.]
[Of Marisol's son's type. That guy's a punk through and through. He's certain he's got to have some kind of RAP sheet, if only Freddy had his badge. Fff.]
[No snotty ass kid. Larry would love to show him a thing or two the only way he'd understand. Except that's assault, something both Marisol and Freddy wouldn't really be too keen on.
The old man plants a kiss close to the kid's ear before looking down at Mister Dog.]
[If he had a foxy ear it would flick from that kiss. What a nice gesture. Very soothing. Very knowing. Knowing that Freddy is being a fucking saint about this situation.]
He's a dog. That's what they do.
[Be hungry and sleep and drool unless they're police officers, then suddenly they're amazing athletes who have your back. The kid doubts both scenarios where Mister Dog is concern.]
[Meaning that someone's gonna get quite a bit of appreciation in more ways than one for this saintly tolerance. Who the hell knows how long he'll put up with it.]
One snack on us. A good night's sleep. But then he'll have to take the long walk back. I've never stolen anybody's pet before. I don't plan on it.
[Spoken as though he really is a third party to his own emotions. Except shit, it's all lip service right now until Mister Dog is back in his own yard. Larry pats his big head.]
Are you saying he's caught up in the system? Last I checked he's avoided the cops. He's flying under the radar with friends in high places. I know a lot more guys who have it real fuckin' rough.
You just dunno. I think he's getting by on the seat of his pants, you know? Living off the kindness of strangers. He likes us. He liked Marisol I guess. He's walking a tightrope. Twenty-one doesn't mean he's got it together. Fuck. What'd you know then?
[It's an age that Freddy is closer to than the old man for one. Even though they're bullshitting as much as can be this is a very interesting line of conversation.]
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orangetoughguy) wrote2010-08-06 11:39 pm
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I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
Son of a gun.
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[Freddy asks, seeing that nose push in, then a big old skull, followed by broad doggie shoulders and a thick torso. The dog is in. As if the old man was really going to keep Mister Dog out.
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What's the matter with you? Huh? Did you go for a walk?
[Still a dog. Still can't talk. He knees and suddenly he's getting a face full of dog sniffing, snorting and trying to taste after shave. Okay. Greeted the old one. The other one? Look out Freddy, he's comin' for you!]
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[In any other situation Freddy would sound like an aviator shades wearing cop. Oh no here he comes all sixty-something pounds of him.]
Hey hey calm down, don't jump on me...!
[Hands flap out to ensure the dog doesn't knock him down on the couch.]
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Marisol was really happy to see him.
[So happy that she shed a tear or two when Paco came back. Thankfully Freddy's let that one slide a little. He's still Mister Dog.]
He must have run away.
[Larry comes back to the couch from the door. He's trying to stifle the glad look on his face.]
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[Yep. Freddy said it. Oof, he flops into the couch and pat pat pats Mister Dog on the big head. Sigh.]
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You really think he came back because the food was better?
[Things that come out of that mouth. Shit. It would be more judgmental if the old man wasn't smiling.]
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He's a dude. We're dudes. We get it.
[It's a testicle thing, or so Freddy is convinced anyway. It's easier than throwing the big heavy weight out. He can barely get the dog off his foot. And nobody wants to have to wipe that smile off an old man's face.]
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[Pat. Pat. Mister Dog's tail thumps on the ground. He doesn't understand what they're saying. Nothing doing. Just being a dog and picking up like he never left.]
Couldn't stand the lady and her brat.
[Yeah. That son of hers was a brat no matter what age or affiliate.]
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[The beast can't possibly understand or appreciate the glory of dick sucking quite the way Freddy can. Ahem.]
You think they're looking for him?
[Based on the kid's earlier investigation the answer is 'kind of, maybe, not really, only when it's convenient'. It's not Marisol's fault though, she's getting old. The brat brought the dog in the first place, Marisol was Mister Dog's small mercy. Well, until these guys.]
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They should. I mean, she was looking for him at least. I sure didn't see anything like that from that no good piece of shit living with her.
[Mister Dog shoves his face into Larry's lap even though he's farther than Freddy. Just laying over both of them.]
He didn't seem to have complaints while here. ...Not that that's the point here.
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[...........Mister Dog is heavy. What is he doing. Why is he draping? He's not a cat?? Sigh. Freddy gives the beast a pat pat to the back.]
She probably feels sorry for him.
[No the kid will not be the first to suggest Mister Dog stay with them for the night.]
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I sort of do too. He's not another kid. He can't just go on and make choices that he wants and go on from there. I mean, dogs stay where they are.
[They're supposed to!]
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[Pat pat to the dog as he looks at Larry with a healthy amount of skepticism because the old man is totally trying to say something just spit it out already, Dimmy.]
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[Should. That took so much effort to say. So much effort. He looks at Freddy next to him.]
She's missing him.
[He automatically assumes. Are you proud of him yet, kid?]
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[Yes he is. And yet. That face. The dog's face too, goddamnit. Sigh.]
Not now, he just got here.
[Are you proud of him yet, old man??]
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We'll let 'em visit.
[Since he just got here.]
Nap. Maybe have chow.
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[Of Marisol's son's type. That guy's a punk through and through. He's certain he's got to have some kind of RAP sheet, if only Freddy had his badge. Fff.]
How about him, is he hungry?
[Wasn't there a bag of chips open somewhere.]
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[No snotty ass kid. Larry would love to show him a thing or two the only way he'd understand. Except that's assault, something both Marisol and Freddy wouldn't really be too keen on.
The old man plants a kiss close to the kid's ear before looking down at Mister Dog.]
He's always hungry. Ain't you, boy?
[Thump, thump wagging tail.]
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He's a dog. That's what they do.
[Be hungry and sleep and drool unless they're police officers, then suddenly they're amazing athletes who have your back. The kid doubts both scenarios where Mister Dog is concern.]
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One snack on us. A good night's sleep. But then he'll have to take the long walk back. I've never stolen anybody's pet before. I don't plan on it.
[Spoken as though he really is a third party to his own emotions. Except shit, it's all lip service right now until Mister Dog is back in his own yard. Larry pats his big head.]
It's kidnapping.
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[Freddy reasons in the most casual way because Mister Dog can't vouch for himself hah.]
He's not a minor either, he has to be...three or four...that's twenty-one in dog ears. He makes his own decisions.
[SHRUG.]
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[Mister Dog now feeling more at home again flows down at both of their feet. There's enough hound for the both of them to share some of the weight.]
Maybe but you gotta take into consideration he's had a hard time. Orphaned and on the run, then pawned. He's caught in the game.
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[Freddy points at that big dog head.]
This guy's just not one of them.
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[It's an age that Freddy is closer to than the old man for one. Even though they're bullshitting as much as can be this is a very interesting line of conversation.]
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