#bigger project i could jump back into whenever i felt like it and now ove got something cool to show for it

[hashipebbles]

It's late and I should be sleeping but I forgot to post the completed Magnus vest :3

[garnerbarbot-blog]

Meet COPERNICUS BARBOT , he’s a FOUR year old LEONBERGER - AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD MIX who lives in BUENA VISTA with his human GARNER BARBOT.

+ relaxed, amiable, comforting - clumsy, gluttonous, oblivious (read: doesn’t know he’s gigantic)

His story goes like this —

It was a balmy September afternoon when a small bundle of dark brown fur came into the world. Born from a Leonberger father and an Australian Shepherd mother, this little guy was a perfect mix of both, as were his eight brothers and sisters. The humans who owned the dogs hadn’t expected them to have puppies (a trip to the dog park gone awry, as one might say.) However, they took it in stride. They started posting ads high and low — physical ads on telephone poles, facebook, instagram, and craigslist posts. Just about everywhere they could. Interest in the adorable puppies flooded in, and they were incredibly relieved. While they planned on keeping one of the puppies, nine new dogs was too much for two people to handle. He was never one of the ones they considered keeping. He was significantly larger than the other pups, to start with. And, from, the time he started walking, he ran into just about everything. They thought that perhaps he had bad eyesight, but in reality, he was just clumsy. He knocked over vases, statues in their garden, small tables. If it was in his path, he’d probably run into it. Thankfully, they only had to endure eight weeks of his destruction. He was a sweet puppy, and they could tell he’d be a great dog someday, but he was just too much work. 

Eight weeks arrived, and those interested in adopting the puppies that had been all over social media arrived. He was the third one taken to a new home. On the drive he sat in the human girl’s lap; he watched the world pass by and wondered what sort of love and adventures awaited him. The family of humans was kind. They had two small toddlers who were waiting anxiously at home for their puppy to arrive. He didn’t understand the words that they cooed at him, didn’t hear them say how cute he was, how he was the perfect size for their babies to cuddle with, how they were going to name him Doodle. While he didn’t understand their words, he liked these humans. They were nice, and they seemed to like him too. As did the toddlers — two little angel-faced girls — who he met when they arrived at their modest suburban home. 

The first few months were full of giggles, too many treats, and lots of toddlers tugging on his tail. He loved every moment of it. The two girls — who the bigger humans kept calling Violet and Rosie — adored their puppy Doodle. 

“We want him to stay this small forever!” they exclaimed excitedly. He didn’t understand what they said, but his tail wagged anyway. 

Unfortunately for Violet and Rosie, he did not stay the same size. He grew into those large, clumsy paws. Each day he seemed to only grow bigger, and bigger, and bigger. Soon he was a year old, and he towered over the two toddlers. His broad chest and large frame simply made it easier to knock things over, and he did just that. When he was small, the humans found his clumsiness endearing. Now they yelled at him for it. They especially yelled at him when he’d accidentally knock down Violent or Rosie The girls would screech and wail, the adults would shout at him, and he would whine, tuck his tail between his legs, and slink off somewhere quiet. He’d hear the adults discussing at night, and although he didn’t understand their words, he knew they were about him. 

“He’s more than we bargained for.”

A few days after his third time knocking one of the girls over, he was dropped off at the local animal shelter. The humans there were nice. They cared for him, pet him, and played with him as much as they were able. However, he felt cooped up in this tiny space, trapped and unable to offer all of the love that he had. Other humans walked by his cage, and many of them took an interest in him. Each time he was pulled out into the yard to interact with one of these humans, a newfound excitement made his whole body wriggle and vibrate. His tail would swing back and forth wildly, sometimes hitting people or knocking things over in the process. 

There was always some reason that the humans never adopted him, some reason he was never one of the lucky animals to go through that door and to a new home. The humans at the shelter — his food source, as he often thought of them — felt a pang in their hearts every time someone turned him down. 

“He’s too big.”

“He’s too clumsy.”

“His bark scared my kid.”

“He’s a bit much to handle...”

They were thankful that he couldn’t understand, but he truly did. He may not know the exact language that humans spoke, but he knew one thing: they didn’t want him. 

Months passed like this, and unknowingly to him, he was two and a half when another human decided to adopt him. This one didn’t seem deterred that he was large at all, nor did he seem startled by his bark. In fact, he seemed to encourage it. This human called him Sheriff. It was different than Doodle, and he wasn’t quite sure if he cared for either, but he was simply happy to have a new family, even if this family was only one single human. The man was nice, would take him for walks and had no issue when he barked or knocked something over. However, he did wish that this human didn’t chain him up outside. Rain, cold, blazing heat, he was often stuck on a chain in the front yard. 

He decided to make the best of it. Other humans would often pass by, and he’d waddle up to them to greet them. They all seemed to like him, and he enjoyed their company as well. He was greeting his sixth person of the day when the human who adopted him stepped outside. He seemed angry, upset, and started scolding him. 

His ears drooped, his tail tucked between his legs, and he hid under the shade of a tree for the rest of the day. Had he done something wrong? Was he not supposed to greet other humans? But...they were so nice, and that’s how it worked when he was in that cage. 

The pattern continued for weeks. The human would yell at him whenever he greeted other humans, and he continued not to understand. Each passing day only made the human’s patience run thin, and he could tell they were at a tipping point. No longer did they go on walks, play together, or cuddle on the couch. No, now he spent most of his time outside. 

He wasn’t surprised when he was brought back to the shelter — disappointed, but not surprised. The caretakers of the shelter seemed disappointed as well when they talked to his previous human. 

“I’m really sorry, but I wanted an intimidating guard dog to keep my house safe from intruders. He’s not what I’d hoped for.” 

He didn’t stick around to listen — it wasn’t as if he knew what the humans were talking about anyway — and instead settled back into the cage he’d only been out of for a few short weeks. At least he wasn’t yelled at when he was here. 

The pattern of that continued on and on, for what seemed like forever. He no longer had that excited hope every time a human seemed interested in him. He simply lazed about on the floor of his cage, barely sparing a glance to those who looked in on him. It was only a matter of time before they decided they didn’t want him anyway... And it was true. Humans would pull him out of his cage or take him home, expecting something from him, only to find that he wasn’t what they wanted. He was never what they wanted. 

----------------

June 23rd, 4:19pm

Garner spent most of his days completing the last few final projects of his online course. If his schedule lined up properly, then he’d be done and would receive his degree in the beginning of August. He was returning home from The Emporium, which was his study location of choice while the school library was under renovations, when he spotted a truck parked outside of the animal shelter. They seemed to be unloading supplies — bags of dog and cat food, boxes of litter, and multiple bags of treats — from the back of a truck. One of the employees seemed to be struggling with a rather large bag of dog food, while all of the others handled their own duties. 

Never being one to sit by while someone was struggling, he walked briskly towards them with a soft smile. “Hi, would you like some help carrying that?”

Garner had never been inside of the local animal shelter before. He adored animals, sometimes more than people, but he simply never had a reason to go in. While he’d considered adopting a pet in the past — multiple times — he always told himself that his education was more important. It was a nice building. It had newly polished floors, was decorated with animal posters and photos, and seemed clean and homey. 

The employee lead him into the dog area so that they could set down the bag of food. Barks could be heard from all directions — loud ones, quiet ones, deep ones, high-pitched ones — and Garner was able to spot quite a few dogs on the outskirts of the rows of cages. Most of them jumped at the fence keeping them in, tails wagging excitedly and hopefully. However one of them, a very large brown and beige dog, was simply sprawled on the ground with his head resting on his paws. He seemed almost seemed dejected. Garner craned his neck, attempting to get a better look. 

“Thank you so much for your help.” The employee’s words snapped him out of his curious staring, and he startled slightly, blinking at them with wide-eyes. 

“Oh– Oh yes, of course. It’s no trouble,” he replied, tossing them a glance and a smile in the midst of attempting to get a better look at the dog that looked so sad. 

“...You’re welcome to look around, if you want.”

“What?”

Garner finally looked over at the shelter worker, noticing the knowing smirk on their face. Something about their expression made him embarrassed, like he’d been caught red handed stealing a cookie. 

“You’re welcome to look at our dogs,” they repeated, expression softening. 

“I uh–” Garner’s glanced over at the dog that caught his attention. “I just... that dog over there,” he began, gesturing to him, “seems...sort of sad.” 

A flash of pain flashed through the workers’ eyes, and they nodded their head with a solemn hum. “The big guy has been here for a while.” 

Garner’s brows furrowed, and he rose up onto his tip-toes, attempting to see more of the curious dog. 

“He’s a real sweetheart. A bit clumsy, but he’s got the biggest heart you’ll ever know. He’s been adopted by a few different families but...no one ever wants to keep him.”

Garner’s heart immediately went out to the dog. He knew what it was like to never be good enough, to be rejected by the people who were supposed to love you, to try and try your very best, but to never be exactly what they wanted. His feet carried him forward towards the dog’s cage. 

“I’d take him myself, but my apartment doesn’t allow big dogs...” The workers’ words barely registered in his mind. He was too focused on the dog — which apparently was a Leonberger - Australian Shepherd mix, according to the sign on his cage. 

A pair of brown eyes flicked up to him, and Garner could sense the hopelessness and dejectedness in them, could sense the longing for something more, but the sinking feeling that it once again wouldn’t last. 

“How do I adopt him?”

June 23rd, 4:37pm

Of all the things to happen today, adopting a dog was not on his to-do list. And yet, here he was with a dog that would probably be taller than him if he stood on two legs, standing on the sidewalk outside of the animal shelter, wondering what exactly he’d gotten himself into. 

Garner wasn’t normally the type to make spontaneous decisions. He liked things to be carefully planned, and felt more comfortable when he’d thought everything through. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if his lease allowed him to have a dog! He certainly didn’t regret it, that much he knew. His heart went out to this dog, and it was his now, no questions asked. 

Glancing down at his new dog, he was met with the same brown gaze. However, now he could sense a slight glimmer of hope among the dejectedness. With a deep sigh, he nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right, we’ll figure it out,” he said aloud. 

June 23rd, 5:11pm

“What do you think of this one?” Garner asked, holding up a large, plush moose. The dog seemed more interested in this one than in the duck from earlier. 

“Alright, the moose it is,” he replied, tossing the toy into his cart of growing supplies. He had multiple toys, a leash, a harness, and a very large bag of dog food. “What do you say we move on to treats, huh?” he asked. 

The dog’s tail wagged, probably at the mention of the word treat. 

“I’ll take that as a yes–” 

“Your dog is so cute!” 

Garner jumped a bit at the sudden, loud voice, turning to face the woman who was currently cooing over his new dog. He couldn’t really blame her, he was pretty cute. 

“Oh, thank you.”

She knelt down excitedly, fawning over and petting the dog. “What’s his name?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest. 

“Uh–” A name. How could he forget about a name?! “I haven’t decided yet. I just adopted him...” He glanced at his watch. “About ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh my goodness! Congratulations! I’m sure you’ll be so happy with him!”

Garner smiled, looking down at his companion who, in turn, looked up at him. “Thank you, I think we’ll both be happy. Um... Do you possibly know where the treat aisle is?”

June 23rd, 7:24pm

“How do you feel about Lincoln?” Garner asked, looking up from his laptop. His new dog was currently sprawled across his legs, munching away happily on a rawhide treat they’d purchased just hours before. He didn’t bother looking up. 

“Yeah, you don’t really look like a Lincoln,” he agreed. He couldn’t see this dog’s face being on the back of a penny or being carved into rock and marble. 

He’d been searching for a name since they’d arrived home nearly an hour ago. Thankfully, his lease did in fact allow pets. It required a pet fee — for possible damages, his landlord said — but it wasn’t too bad. Garner lived on the ground floor of his building, which consisted of four moderately sized units that all shared a fenced off yard. Being on the ground floor made getting to the yard easy, which was ideal for having a dog. Perhaps his landlord would even let him install a dog door of some kind. 

Would he even fit through a standard dog door?

“How about we go ancient? Socrates?” he suggested. The dog lifted his head, blinked a few times, and then went back to his treats. 

“Okay, we’re getting warmer, but we’re not there yet.” 

While he typed away at his computer, he found his hand naturally reached down to card through the dog’s soft, dark brown fur. It was almost like a magnetic pull, some innate thing in his biology that told him to pet the dog. 

He suggested a few other names — all of them history-inspired — but none of them seemed to stick. Should he just keep calling him by the name the shelter had on his tag? Doodle? He cringed, unable to picture himself with a dog named Doodle. 

“What do you think of Copernicus?”

At that name, the dog lifted his head in interest, and Garner’s heart swelled excitedly in his chest. 

“Copernicus?” he tested again, this time in a slightly higher voice. 

The dog responded by tilting his head to the side and wagging his tail. 

Garner beamed, smiling wider than he had in years. It was as if the sun had come out, warming his entire body and bringing a newfound life to him that he’d long thought lost. 

“Copernicus!” 

Copernicus huffed out a soft bark, tail now thumping wildly against the couch cushions. Garner placed his laptop aside, rubbing at Copernicus’ exposed belly with a joyous laugh. 

“Good boy! Good boy, Copernicus!” he repeated over and over, laughing as he was thanked for his attention and affection by a slobbery tongue. 

Each word of praise, love, and adoration only seemed to excite Copernicus further, to the point where he practically leapt up into Garner’s lap, completely disregarding the fact that he weighed as much as a small person. 

Garner grunted in surprise, laughing breathlessly. It seemed like he wasn’t aware that he was no longer a puppy. However, Garner didn’t mind one bit. He was simply happy that the dejected dog lying on the floor of his cage was a swiftly fading memory. 

“Welcome home to your new, Copernicus.”

They settled down after that, enjoying a peaceful and companionable silence as Copernicus sat in Garner’s lap, rawhide treat long forgotten in favor of cuddling. Garner’s thighs ached from the weight that was completely settled on him, but he did his best to ignore it, reveling in the comfortable silence before a thought a occurred to him. 

“...How do you feel about the nickname Copper?”

----------------

He — Copernicus — lifted his head as he was awoken from the haze of sleep. The sky was still dark, somehow darker than when he and his new human had gone to bed. The blankets were warm, and the body heat from the man made him drowsy. None of the other humans he’d lived with had let him lay on the bed before. Or on the couch. They’d always scolded him when he did that. 

There was something different about this human. Something that Copper decided he wanted to understand. He was currently still, nestled under the blankets with a peaceful expression. Perhaps it was silly, hoping for a home that would last forever, after he’d only ever faced rejection and abandonment. However, as he stared at his new owner — at his new companion — he couldn’t help but feel as though this time was different. 

Resting his head on the human’s steadily rising and falling chest, Copper slowly let his eyes drift closed again. He wanted to call this place, call this man home so desperately. This seemed different, this seemed real. 

He hoped it was real.