#with the malamute I always warn people

[astragreenwoode]

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Three

Previous: Chapter Two • Next: Chapter Four • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit(18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-specified Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Hypersexuality, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hearing Voices

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Three: People Are Strange

Word Count: 11,042

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Hypersexual Thoughts, Anxiety, Sexual Themes and Implied Smut, Explicit Language, Humiliation

Chapter Summary: Maeven recalls the last time she was so nervous to be at a new school, and how her father helped her through it. During the school tour, she meets two of her new classmates and catches glimpses of other friends she may make along the way. But whether or not she adjusts well to Hawkins High all depends on her. . .and Billy, of course.

September 1974

The last time I was so nervous about being at a new school, I was about to turn eight years old. Before San Diego, we lived in a small-ish rural community in southern Oregon. After getting married, Mom and Dad decided they needed a break from California, and moved to a place where their children could enjoy life without the world spoiling them.

Our home was five miles outside of town on a dirt and gravel road, in a field surrounded by a ring of trees. The trees made a dome around the edge of our property, covering the front yard and the front of our house in a veil of shade that faced east. The sun shined on the other half of our property, warming up the grass like a heated blanket. The stone path from our back porch led into the wildwood, turning into a small bridge that stood over the creek.

I spent my early days exploring the seemingly infinite woods and warming myself on the grass as I stared up at the tall trees and blue skies; Max was so little then, and Thunder was still alive. He was our family’s big malamute mix they adopted before we were born.

We lived on the edge of one of the Pacific Northwest’s many lush and green forests. Since no one officially owned it and our closest neighbor was two miles away, I liked to imagine it was mine. It was where I discovered my lifelong passion for everything wild when I found friendship with a soft-natured raccoon. I’d later come to make friends with possums, a fox family, and a quiet doe with her fawn. It was comfortable there; cozy in the colder months, and cooler during the warmer months. While it wasn’t perfect, we were happy there. But as Max and I grew, it seemed to become smaller and more crowded.

Eventually, Mom and Dad grew homesick for California and decided to move us back to San Diego permanently. Until then, we had only ever taken long road trips there and back again every Spring and Summer break. Moving transferred our parents’ homesickness onto Max and me. She was as upset by the move as I was, but was more excited; she thought of it as a new adventure.

The day Dad waited with us at the bus stop for our first day at a new school, I was petrified. Max was jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk as I gripped the straps of my backpack and stared down at my feet. That morning, I clung to my mom as I begged her to let me stay home, but she forced me to dry my tears or else she’d be late for her first day back at her old hospital.

Dad surprised us that morning. As I was about to get on the bus with Max’s hand in mine and the bus driver trying to hurry us along, Dad tugged us toward him.

“You know what? I’ll drive you girls today. It’s a special day.”

I was hoping he would just take us straight back home; well, to our new house. I didn’t consider it home, yet. What he ended up doing that day was much better than I expected, teaching me an important lesson I still rely on today.

He drove us to our new school in his jet-black Impala; he bought it the year I was born. Max was in her car seat in the back kicking her feet to the sound of She Loves You by the Beatles on the stereo. It was her favorite. Mine was Blackbird. I loved riding in that car

As we drove up to the building of the elementary school, I curled myself into a ball and sunk deeper into my seat.

“C’mon, Mae-Mae, we gotta go. You don’t wanna be late for your first day,” my Dad sighed, putting his hand on my knee and giving it a gentle shake. I tightened my arms around my knees.

“I’m not going,” I mumbled through my curled limbs.

“It’s not a choice, Spitfire.”

“I’M NOT GOING!” I exploded, uncurling myself and staring daggers at my Dad with tears in my eyes. He was taken aback a little by my sudden outburst but still kept his cool. But when I heard Max start to sniffle at the sudden loudness, I climbed up on the seat and held her little hand. I knew if she started to cry, I wouldn’t be able to get my tears to stop falling.

“No, no, Maxy, don’t cry! I’m sorry!” I whimpered, trying to keep myself composed as I closed my eyes to hold in my tears. After I took a few deep breaths, I heard Max’s cries cease as she started back up with giggles. I opened my eyes to see Dad waving Max’s stuffed rabbit, Flopsy in her face. She had just dropped it. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.

After returning Flopsy to her, Dad turned back to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“I know this is hard for you, Maeven. I really do. I didn’t want to, either, but we had to,” he tried to explain, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“No, we didn’t,” I whined, tilting my head up to the roof of the Impala.

“We did. It might not feel like it, but we did,” he responded. I turned my back and brought my knees up to my chest as my feet rested on the leather seats. It was something I knew he would prefer I not do. But he didn’t say anything.

We sat in silence for what seemed like hours when in reality, it was probably only five minutes or so. The world moved on outside the car, the parking lot alive with parents and kids of all kinds walking in and out of the building. It helped that Dad just let us sit there and let me soak up the environment instead of just pushing me straight in.

“Do you remember when I first read you Watership Down?” he asked suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. I didn’t understand why he asked that at first, but it was nice to have a distraction from the growing anxiety in my stomach brought on by my fear of change.

“Yeah? What about it?”

Watership Down was one of my favorite books. Mom and Dad took turns reading it to me when I was smaller; a chapter a night. Before that book, I never saw rabbits as exciting creatures. I loved them as much as all the animals I had come to love and study in books, zoos, and in the forest behind our old house. They were never as interesting as the others until Richard Adams turned them into something different.

“Do you remember what you first felt when the rabbits left their warren?” he followed up. I read and re-read that book so many times that I knew it by heart now. I had to think for a minute.

“I was excited. I knew they’d go on to have some fun adventures,” I said. Dad nodded his head at my enthusiasm.

“Yeah. And they did, didn’t they? But why did they leave?”

I had to think about it for a moment again.

“Because they were in danger?”

“Exactly. They left because they had to,” he explained, and I finally started to understand what he was trying to say.

“Are we in danger?” I asked, my shoulders tensing as I frantically looked around the parking lot.

“No, no, Spitfire,” he reassuringly laughed, stroking the back of my head. “It wasn’t dangerous back at our old house. You’re safe. I promise.”

“Then why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course, you didn’t, Maeven. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just that. . .things just happen, sometimes. Unexpected things you didn’t prepare for, and the best and only way you can make things better is to change.”

I stayed quiet a little bit longer, my shoulders now relaxing. Dad gave me as much time as I needed to reply.

“But that’s sad,” I whined.

“It can be sad. And that’s okay. Do you remember when you were so upset that you couldn’t wear your favorite coat anymore when you played in the snow?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but what did we do that day? I took you to get a new one, and you ended up liking that even better.”

I nodded my head. I did love that coat. It was a deep vibrant shade of purple with snowflakes along the trim. And of course, I missed my old one. I had a good reason to; it was rainbow striped. But Mom gave me striped rainbow leggings for Christmas I could wear instead. Everything worked out in the end, even if I didn’t feel like it would.

“The point is, Maeven,” Dad continued. “nothing can always stay the same. And when the rabbits had to fight the general, weren’t you scared?”

I was scared for them. I was afraid of what would happen to their warren; their new home they fought so hard to find and make their own. I wanted everything to be alright.

“Mmm-hmm. . .”

“Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig, and Holly were scared, too. But what happened?”

Even though they were scared of what Efrafa would do to them if they lost, they did it, anyway. They were brave.

“They did it anyway?”

After so many hardships, the rabbits of Watership Down were fine. “Be cunning and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed,” the book's words echoed in my head.

“Exactly. And when they did, they ended up happier, safer, and stronger than they were in Sandelford, weren’t they?”

“Mmm-hmm! They adaptated!” I mispronounced.

“It’s adapted, Maeven,” Dad laughed, fluffing up my hair.

“Oh, okay. Adapted,” I corrected myself.

Going to a new school didn’t seem so frightening, anymore. If rabbits were smart and stubborn enough to dig themselves out of every bad situation, I would be fine.

“You are an animal, Maeven. You’re smart and strong, and wherever you go, I know you’ll adapt. You’re gonna do great in there. I just know it.”

. . .

Billy turned the radio on at full blast for the remainder of the ride, filling the awkward silence with the thrashing of Motley Crue. Maeven kept bouncing her leg and tried not to let the volume bother her. Snapping the rubber band against her wrist helped keep her calm, even if it hurt a little.

Maeven caught a quick glimpse of the campus the other day when Billy picked up her and Max from the arcade. The school was a lot less intimidating when looking at it up close. It was underwhelming compared to what Maeven and Billy were used to, but she saw that as a good thing. It meant there weren’t as many people, so maybe she wouldn’t be as nervous when caught in the crowds. Unfortunately, it also meant she would be noticed in a small school where everyone knew everyone, and word probably spread faster in the rumor mill than back in California.

“They’re gonna find out, somehow,” the voice taunted. “And when they do, you’ll be dead. You never even had a chance, Not here, not anywhere. Just run away.”

“No! Shut up! Just shut the hell up!” Maeven yelled, not hesitating to slap herself in the face. But as soon as Billy caught her wrist to stop her from harming herself again, she remembered that she wasn’t alone, and suddenly realized they were parked in the parking lot now.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just. . .”

“The voices?”

“Yeah. . .”

“It’s okay. Just ignore them and they’ll go away.”

“Easier said than done,” Maeven said to herself.

The look in Billy’s eyes broke her heart. It had been a while since she snapped like that.

The campus was most definitely smaller than Newport’s. It was more similar to the size of the Junior High she and Max attended back in California. The Junior and Senior Highs were in separate buildings, spread out amongst the campus with a few disconnected buildings where they probably had extracurriculars and clubs. Maybe the auditorium was there, too. It would be easier to navigate once they were done with the tour. And Maeven liked that she could keep an eye on Max.

Max and Susan got out of Neil’s station wagon before he drove off, as he had to finish last-minute transfer paperwork before he started his new gig at the bank. As Maeven and Billy stepped out of his Camaro, he stood close to her with his hand on the small of her back. It was something that usually kept her calm, but he did so in a way so that no one in their family would notice.

“You’re gonna be fine, okay? Just keep your head down, and don’t give anyone a reason to stare at you.”

Again; easier said than done.

Maeven just nodded, lingering on the comforting feeling even after he pulled his hand away from her back. She tightened the straps of her backpack onto her shoulders, thinking how she probably looked like a total geek right now bringing her backpack to school when she hadn’t even started classes, yet.

Walking to the front office of the high school was oddly refreshing to her. She had always liked being in school. She loved learning and the feeling the environment gave her. Maeven just wasn’t always a fan of the people who inhabited them; especially when they were teenagers.

As they walked up to the front desk, Susan took the initiative and leaned on the front counter as she waited for the secretary to notice her.

“Hi, there! Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Susan Hargrove. My kids are starting here tomorrow and-”

“Not your kid, Susan,” Billy interrupted, making sure to sound as stern as possible. It caught Susan off-guard as she flinched and turned to him, giving a timid smile. It was a little scary to Maeven and Max how much he sounded like his father at that moment.

“Of course. My daughters and stepson are starting here tomorrow and we were told we’d be given a tour of campus,” she elaborated to the secretary.

“Oh, yes! Give me just a minute,” she said, turning to her phone.

Maeven clasped her hands in front of her as she swung her hips slightly to make her long skirt twirl. Max crossed her arms and tapped her fingers.

“Sir. Mrs. Hargrove and her kids are here to see you.”

Maeven could tell by the look on Billy’s face that he wanted to correct his relation to the Mayfields again. She knew why; he was still bitter about his mother, and she didn’t blame him. As much as he hated her for leaving him the way she did, she was still his mom. He would always miss and love her. He was determined not to let Susan take her place.

The sisters tapped their feet in annoyance. How well did these phones work? How talkative was this principal that he made his secretary stay on the line for so long?

“Mmmhmm. Alright. You can head on in, Down the hall, last door on the right,” she finally replied, hanging up the phone. Max let out a sigh that said ‘finally!’ Maeven wasn’t as vocal, but she felt the same.

“Thank you.”

Susan took the lead as they followed the secretary’s directions, knocking on the door before entering. Maeven took a look at the plaque by the door; Principal John Higgins. She knew a kid with that last name once. He looked like a principal, as if he was born to be one. She was curious to see what kind he was; an uncaring hardass with a god complex or a decent person who actually saw his students as people.

“You must be Susan. Principal Higgins. We spoke on the phone last week?” He reached out to shake her hand.

“Billy.”

“Yes, hi. Nice to meet you.” she smiled widely as she accepted it.

“And this must be Margaret, William, and Maxine?” he guessed.

“Maeven.”

“Max.”

They all corrected in unison. 

“Of course. My apologies. Please, have a seat.” He was a bit overwhelmed but pretended not to be as he gestured to the chairs and couch by his desk. Susan and Billy sat in the office chairs while the sisters sat on the black and yellow checkered couch. Maeven pawed at the backpack in her lap, bouncing her leg and scratching her hands.

“I’m sure you won’t find this school any different than your last one,” Higgins said, pulling out three separate manilla folders. “But, it might not be what you’re quite used to all the way down in sunny California.”

“It’s definitely a lot smaller,” Susan laughed, putting on her smile as Billy rolled his eyes. He leaned back in the chair, his legs spread wide as if he owned the place. His sudden attempt at displaying his brawn made Higgins clear his throat.

“So, Billy. From your transcript, I can see you’re the average student and have some trouble with authority. But it seems that in California, you were quite the star athlete.”

“Yes, sir,” he smiled.”Quarterback, Designated Hitter, and Power Forward.”

Maeven had experienced attraction to all kinds of people, no matter their clique. She had gone on dates with jocks before, even if she found most of them to be jerks. But Billy stood out. It bugged her that she could never the exact reason why.

“Perfect, son. Sports are an important part of the culture here, so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Higgins said, closing the file before opening another, turning his head to the younger of the Mayfield sisters.

“And, Max. I can see you’re also an average student. But you do seem to be exceptional when it comes to math. We have clubs and tutoring programs where I’m sure you’ll be welcome. Been in trouble a few times, but nothing too extreme. I know starting a new school at your age can be scary and frustrating. Am I going to have any trouble with you?”

Max blew her hair out of her face, her arms still crossed. She had never been one for clubs, but who knows? Maybe that would change at Hawkins

“As long as no one else here dumps their crap on me, I’ll be good.”

“Max!” her mother scolded her. Billy and Maeven chuckled as she gave her little sister a playful slap on the arm.

“No worries, Mrs. Hargrove. I’ve heard worse. I’ll take that as a ‘no.’” Higgins laughed.

Maeven’s file came last, which made her heartbeat quicken a little. She knew he wouldn’t be as lighthearted and upbeat as he was with Billy and Max.

“I understand there are some matters you and Margaret wish to inform me about privately,” he said. All eyes in the room were now turned to Maeven as she squeezed her backpack. She hated when that happened; it fueled the fire of paranoia in her.

“Yes, sir,” Susan answered for her daughter once she recognized she wouldn’t speak for herself.

“Billy, Max, why don’t you two go wait outside?” Higgins turned to them. “This shouldn’t take long. Doris should have your class schedules ready for you.”

Max gave her big sister a calming squeeze on her hand. Billy shot her an encouraging nod of his head and a wink of his baby blue eyes that made her stomach flutter and thighs squeeze together instinctively. As they left the room, Maeven switched herself over to the chair Billy previously occupied.

“Now, Mar-Sorry, Maeven. I understand that you’re a repeating junior. From what your mother tells me, you had sort of a tough time last year.”

Susan turned to her daughter when she didn’t answer Principal Higgins. Maeven kept bouncing her leg as she scratched the back of her hand with her nails until the skin was red. She hated when she did that; mainly because it came off as rude to those unaware of her. . .condition. It also broke her heart to see her little girl hurt herself, especially when it would bleed and scab. Susan reached her hands out to her daughter, one steadying her leg while the other rested atop her hands to stop her scratching.

“Sorry. She’s a little shy,” she apologized, bringing Maeven out of her self-induced trance.

“Yes, sir. I am. I mean. . .I did,” Maeven softly said.

“That’s certainly not a problem,” he stated, looking over her file. “I called Newport High last week and spoke with a few of your teachers. They all said you were a pleasure to have in class and your test scores are. . .intimidating. But they said that around the second semester, you sort of. . .lost your way?”

It was nice to hear that the staff back at her old school still thought about her that way. Although, Maeven wouldn’t blame them if they happened to feel anything negative toward her. Her decline in the social and academic hierarchy and eventual expulsion weren’t exactly a pretty sight to witness.

“Yeah. . .that sounds fair,” she replied.

“I can understand that,” Higgins said, seemingly empathizing with her. It was oddly refreshing. “We have a few other kids here who’ve had to repeat grades due to their struggles in life. I see you have a history of fighting and skipping classes, and that you’ve dealt with emotional problems in the past.”

Before Maeven could say anything, her mother interjected.

“She has, yes, but she is doing much better, sir. We’re hoping a change of scenery will help with that.”

Susan and Higgins didn’t need to pry further, as Maeven knew what they were talking about. She hated when her mother did that, refusing to talk about her daughter’s past of pain as if it was more devastating for her.

“Slap her, Maeven. You know you want to,” the voice instructed, but Maeven just shook it off, literally; her head and body twitched almost as if she was seizing before stilling itself. She gave her mom a reassuring nod before turning her attention back to Higgins.

“I’m not looking to cause any trouble here, sir. I plan to stay focused on my grades this time around. I promise,” she smiled, trying her best to imitate the one her mother used.

“That’s good to hear. You seem to have been an over-achiever back at Newport, so we have more than a couple of clubs that’ll keep you out of trouble. We have a science fair in the spring, and from what your teachers told me, you’ll win first prize. Of course, I still expect you to meet with the school Counselor, Miss Kelly, once a week.”

“Yeah. I’m good with that,” Maeven nodded.

“That’s what I like to hear. Lastly, you’ll be needing accommodations due to your. . .condition?”

Once again, Maeven could tell exactly what he was referring to. It wasn’t that much of a surprise that a middle-aged white principal didn’t want to speak so openly to one of his students about how painfully crippling her periods had become these last nine months. And, of course, her brain condition wasn’t exactly easy for those outside a doctor’s office to comprehend.

“Yes, I do. Is that okay?”

“I’m not able to provide them all, but I can help you with most of them,” he stated, handing Maeven a laminated Hawkins High hall pass with her name at the top and his signature at the bottom.

“Here’s a hall pass for your classes when you’re. I put down a note so that all your teachers will allow you to take tests under the supervision of the school librarian. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you an all-access hall pass; too much opportunity for it to be abused. I’m sure you’re a good kid, but I just can’t afford to take the risk.”

Again, she wasn’t surprised at this. Maeven figured she wouldn’t get an all-access pass for when her brain decided to shut down or go full panic mode out of the blue. Her father’s motto was always ‘ It never hurts to ask.’ Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for people to understand someday, but not today. She had no choice but to power through.

“It’s alright. Completely understandable,” she lied.

Principal Higgins closed her file before getting up from his desk to put it in a random drawer. When he led Susan and Maeven out to the front office, Max and Billy were chatting with three other students.

“Oh, good! I see you’ve already met,” he announced himself. The kids all stood up from the benches and chairs, turning themselves towards him. Maeven shrugged her backpack over her shoulder as she stood between Max and Billy. She gave her little sister a pat on the back that she instinctually returned.

“I thought it’d be helpful for you guys to meet a couple of your classmates before tomorrow. They’ll be giving you a tour,” Higgins spoke.

Maeven bit her lip. When she pictured the day as she woke up that morning, she didn’t anticipate meeting other kids face to face immediately. She figured there might be students around campus, but didn’t plan on meeting any new kids her age until tomorrow. She didn’t prepare for this, and Maeven dreaded being unprepared.

The mismatched siblings stood in a row of three facing their future classmates in the same formation. 

“Billy, Maeven, this is Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. And Max, this is Jennifer Hayes. Guys, this is Billy Hargrove and Maeven and Max Mayfield.”

Maeven took them in one by one, sizing them up.

Jennifer looked and seemed friendly enough. She seemed like the classic social butterfly; a good girl who surrounded herself with as many people as possible. However, those kinds of people, more often than not, were more shallow than they liked to admit. Maeven had experienced that first-hand in Middle School. Besides, she seemed too girly to be a friend of her baby sister.

“Hi,” she waved at Max.

“She seems boring. Basic. Max definitely won’t get along with her,” the voice whispered. Maeven looked down before rolling her eyes, not wanting to draw attention to herself before her eyes met Nancy’s.

Nancy had a similar vibe to Jennifer with a few key differences. Unlike the middle schooler, she seemed more like the type of girl who had a small inner circle of close friends. She dressed like a scholar, like the model student of an exclusive all-girls boarding school. Nancy was also classically pretty; big doe eyes with dark hair that framed her head like a crown. She reminded Maeven of her friend, Madeleine.

“. . .hi,” she squeaked out, eyes wide. She looked like she saw a ghost.

“She knows how crazy you are. Look at her, she’s terrified.”

“How could she know?” she vocalized in her head, trying her best not to let her paranoia get the better of her. There was no way this absolute stranger could know of her instability.

“People have their ways. You never know.”

Finally, Maeven’s eyes landed on Steve.

“Hey,” he muttered, pushing his soft, chestnut hair back innocently. Meanwhile, Maeven fought to keep her body cool.

“Oh, my fuck, he’s cute,” the voice expressed. For once, it said something she could agree with. 

Steve Harrington was almost so pretty that it hurt. He had the same cocky and suave charm that attracted her to Billy in the first place. He was also about the same height as Billy, and Maeven could tell just by the way he carried himself that he was a jock. Unlike the other jocks she met, his charisma seemed to stem from a place of kindness.

"He's checking you out,” the voice teased in her ear, sending a shiver down Maeven’s spine and filling her with that familiar sense of warm longing.“You should take him and Billy to the janitor's closet so they can fuck you.”

"What!? No! What is wrong with you!?"

"He'll like you more if you let him use you."

"Be fucking quiet!" she internally yelled, silencing it. Maeven hid her hands in the sleeves of her sweater as she held them together, one gripping the cuff while the other scratched the top of it. She held in her anxiety, giving the others a soft, shy smile.

“Why don’t you guys take your tours and we’ll meet back here in a half hour?” Higgins asked. Everyone nodded as the students walked out of the office and into the hall. One way led outside to the Middle School, while the other led down to the rest of the High School halls.

“See you in a bit, squirt,” Billy laughed at Max, reaching up to give her a condescending pat on the head. Max slapped his hand away as she pointed at her sister.

“Hey, only she gets to call me that,” she warned, as threateningly as a small middle schooler could be.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, turning his nose up before following Maeven and the others.

. . .

Everything was less intimidating once Maeven got a closer look as they walked around. The campus seemed well taken care of despite its age. Newport had a more mid-century modern style, all neat and smooth with underwhelming geometric themes. It felt more like a fancy museum than a school. Hawkins High was different. It was charming. Maeven could feel the history built into every cracked brick or tile and dented locker. The halls were lined with character.

The group of teens walked stiffly down the hallways of the high school, relaxing their posture when the principal and Mrs. Hargrove were no longer in their sight or within hearing range. This Steve Harrington guy was the one who finally broke the silence.

“So, Higgins said that you guys are from California?” he asked, turning to Maeven and Billy.

“Mmm-hmm,” Billy mumbled. It was clear to Maeven that he was still feeling out Steve’s vibe. He seemed nice enough, possibly another athlete like Billy; they shared body types, both having defined muscles and the classic upside-down Dorito figures. Steve was maybe just an inch shorter than Billy, though.

“Is it nice down there?” he followed up.

“Definitely better than here,” he scoffed, eyes off of Steve like he didn’t even exist to him. Billy wasn’t willing to be too friendly with him. It wasn’t often that he connected with someone right away, and Harrington was no different than the others. The only person he had that naturally and quickly ignited the chemistry between them was Maeven

“Super. . .” Steve uncomfortably droned out.

Maeven’s eyes focused on Nancy, who still looked at her as if she was face-to-face with someone she shouldn’t be. She wondered what it was about her that gave her such a fright. Was it the way she dressed? The way she carried herself? Maybe it was the way she fidgeted with her hands. How she twirled the loose threads of her sweater around her fingers?  Maybe she just generally gave off an unsettling vibe. She couldn’t tell, anymore.

“You’re scaring her, you know? You’re being so quiet and you keep looking at her. She probably thinks you’re a secret serial killer,”

“But I’m not a-”

“Not yet, you’re not. But you could still become one. You have all the qualifications; insane, suicidal, anger issues, unhealthy obsessions with blood, and sex. Not to mention you already have one vict-. . .”

Maeven tore her eyes away from Nancy, instead choosing to focus on the dents in the lockers and the green and orange stripes on the wall. Her sudden change in perspective cut off her inner monster. She couldn’t tell if she looked elsewhere out of respect for Nancy’s comfort, or if it was so she wouldn’t see the tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. She would not break down in front of these new people, she decided.

Nancy clapped her hands together with enthusiasm as the group stopped at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“So!” she broke the awkward silence, gently taking hold of Steve’s wrist before dragging him along with her. “Uhmm, obviously this is the cafeteria,” she said, using her other hand to gesture around her like the lady on Wheel of Fortune.

The cafeteria was probably just a little smaller than the one at Newport. Obviously, there were a lot less students here. It also had a lot more windows and natural lighting with a door that swung lead out to more lunch tables. There was also a stage against the wall at the far end of it, which Maeven assumed was where the theatre department was. Newport had its auditorium for plays, recitals, and school debates, but Maeven liked how humble Hawkins High was turning out to be so far.

What appeared to be the school’s group of Band Kids gathered on the stage and the surrounding lunch tables. Some were tuning and practicing their instruments, while others were simply chatting and taking a break. The gold and white tassels on the green uniforms caught Maevens eye, especially when they were worn by the cute dark-blonde, almost red-haired girl with dusted freckles and dark blue eyes. She let out a laugh that seemed contagious. Maeven was suddenly reminded of a girl she played seven minutes in Heaven with at a party during her freshman year. She turned away once she realized she was staring back, pointing her head down as her face tinted pink.

“Those are our band kids over there, gearing up for homecoming,” Nancy continued, gesturing around her as Billy and Maeven followed her and Steve. “If you guys want a good seat, I would plan on getting here as early as possible. Also because the earlier you get here, the better chance you have of your food being edible.”

“Noted,” Billy nodded. 

School lunches and their edibility varied from school to school, district to district. Maeven was planning on bringing her lunch, anyways. Maybe she’d try it one day once she was more comfortable.

“That’s also the stage where they put on plays and musicals,” Steve pointed out as they walked back into the hallway. “It hasn’t been announced yet what the winter play will be, but we actually have normal theatre kids here if you can believe it. They were really annoying when we were in middle school, but. . .I guess they grew out of that?”

Steve Harrington didn’t seem like a theatre kid, but he had the energy of one.

Maeven eyed the way Nancy and Steve held hands and stayed close to each other as the group walked down the hallway. They did look pretty cute together, she couldn’t deny that. But they seemed too much like a cliche. Then again, who was Maeven to judge them? She was probably the farthest thing from a cliche one could ever be. Still, there seemed to be more than meets the eye in their relationship; Maeven couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but she knew it was there.

Steve opened the right of the double wooden doors that lead into the school gym. Again, it was smaller than the one Maeven was used to back in California. But it had its charm. There were a group of guys on the far side shooting hoops and practicing dribbling with each other. On the other side was a group of cheerleaders stretching their muscles and practicing their routine.

Maeven didn’t mind seeing the basketball team and their muscles sweating with activity, and she absolutely didn’t mind seeing the cheer squad in their short twirling skirts as they practiced. She was particularly intrigued by the cheerleader with strawberry blonde hair in a high ponytail and a smile that could light up a room of depressed people. She looked like a Barbie doll come to life. The way she seemed to put her whole spirit into the routine made it more like watching a ballet show; it was mesmerizing. Maeven found herself fantasizing that if she met her while in inpatient treatment, she probably would’ve recovered faster.

“This is the gym,” Steve said. “We hold all our gym classes, practices, pep rallies, and basketball games here. We have football and baseball, too, but they’re not as popular.”

“So basketball is your official religion around here. Got it,” Maeven spoke up with a soft giggle at the end. Steve and Nancy turned to smile at her. When she wondered why, she realized this was the first time she uttered a word since the tour began.

Steve seemed to be the most taken aback at the sound of Maeven’s voice, laughing at her joke. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Do, uhm. . .do either of you play?” he asked, gesturing to Maeven and Billy.

“Uh-uh,” Maeven shook her head.

“Yeah. I’ve played before,” Billy mentioned, shrugging his shoulders. Like a lot of boys his age, he channeled all his energy and unchecked rage and aggression into playing High School sports. Despite wearing the stereotypical jock persona, he was also a metalhead. He and Maeven spent their first few weeks together doing nothing but getting high in his Camaro and thrashing along to the radio in an attempt to vent their shared frustration.

Maeven eyed the logo with the school mascot on the wall; Go Hawkins Tigers! It was a bit faded, maybe needing a fresh coat of paint. She wondered if maybe they’d let her paint a mural for the school as she did at Newport. She would ask them later. . .maybe.

“It’s kind of a missed opportunity that they’re the Hawkins High Tigers and not the Hawkins High Hawks,” the voice in her head laughed. Maeven chuckled at the joke she told herself. It was rare that she and her inner voice agreed with each other. When they did work together, it was usually to both their benefit.

“It’s kinda-

“You any good at it?” Steve said, accidentally cutting Maeven off.

“Compared to those little pussies, yeah,” Billy scoffed as he pointed toward the basketball team. It was clear that a few of them were new at this, missing hoops, tripping on their own feet, and losing the rhythm of their dribbles.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” Steve apologized, turning back to Maeven.

“Say something, Maeven. They’re all looking at you.” the voice whispered, spiking Maeven’s heart rate and making her palms clam up.

“No, it’s fine,” she stated, shaking her head to brush off the nervousness. “I was. . .I don’t even remember what I was gonna say,” she laughed, trying to trick herself into thinking so.

“Yeah, she’s a little forgetful, aren’t ya Mae-Mae?” Billy laughed, tussling her hair before sneakily moving his hand down to cup the small of her back again where no one would notice.

“Yeah. . .sorry. . .”

Both Steve and Nancy looked at each other before turning back to Maeven, confused at her apology.

“What? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Nancy laughed, reassuringly touching Maeven’s arm,

“You apologized when you didn’t need to again, you stupid bitch.”

. . .

Before Billy could even think about challenging the basketball kids in the gym, Steve and Nancy moved the tour forward. Maeven had her sketchpad and a gel pen in her hand, mapping out the school as the group continued walking. Gel pens were her preferred writing tool, as she loved the sensation in her hands when she conducted the ink. She made sure to include all the turns in the hallways and possible shortcuts, including all the exits in case she ever found herself in a situation when and where she needed to haul ass out of there. Maeven always needed a plan to protect herself in case things went wrong again, in case she got bad again.

Steve and Billy walked side by side as Maeven and Nancy were a few feet behind them. The boys walked in an awkward conversation as Billy kept pushing Steve’s buttons; it was one of his favorite pastimes. Although Maeven was too focused on the school and her developing map to hear exactly what they talked about, she could only guess that Billy took charge of the discussion like he always did.

“I um. . .I thought your name was Margaret?”

Nancy’s sudden question caused Maeven’s hand to jerk slightly and mess up a line on her map. She clenched her jaw in anoyance; she would fix that and give herself a proper punishment later. Instead, she soaked her tears of frustration into her eyes and turned to Nancy.

“It is. Maeven’s my middle name,” she clarified.

“It’s. . .nice. Unique. Scottish?” Nancy asked, much to Maeven’s surprise. She was half right.

“Irish, actually. On my dad’s side. My mom’s the Scottish one,” she replied.

The two girls turned their heads forward, watching as Billy pushed Steve just a little too hard as he let out a laugh. Steve stumbled on his feet a little before regaining balance and continued walking as if nothing just happened. To him, it was just another jock with an obnoxious personality; it was nothing new to him.

“Your brother seems. . .nice?” Nancy said, unsure how Maeven would take her honest opinion.

“When he wants to be. And he’s my stepbrother,” she said before they turned left at the next forked hallway, making another note on her map.

“Oh, okay. That makes more sense,” Nancy realized aloud as if a puzzle in her head was finally completed.

“Why?”

“No offense, but. . .” Nancy trailed off, eyeing Billy up and down before doing the same with Maeven. “you look nothing alike and you don’t act like brother and sister,” she pointed out, gesturing at their clear differences.

“None taken, Nancy. Actually, it’s a compliment,” Maeven laughed, bookmarking her place in her sketchbook with her thumb as she closed it.

Nancy had been eyeing Maeven for the entire duration of the tour for two reasons. One; she wasn’t what she was expecting when Principal Higgins asked her to show a new honor student around. Maeven didn’t carry herself with pride and confidence the way others would. She certainly took no effort in trying to dress up for the role. However, she definitely seemed to be quiet and introverted, but also nice personality that reminded her of Barb.

That brought her to reason number two; this new girl reminded her so much of her departed friend so much it almost hurt. And it wasn’t just the vibrant shade of ginger hair that made her sentimental and nostalgic. It was in the way she could focus her attention on whatever she seemed to be working on. Nancy still didn’t know much about Maeven, but she almost had her believing in reincarnation. She had to remind herself that Barb was gone, and that reincarnation didn’t work like that even if it was real. 

She made a vow to herself not to compare the two of them, anymore, even if the resemblance was uncanny.

“So. . .Higgins said you were on the honor roll back at your old school,” Nancy said, changing the subject.

“Yeah. For a lot of things, but. . .mostly science,” Maeven answered. Nancy noticed the stickers on her sketchbook that consisted of various flowers and animals, as well as a few skulls of various species. Barb wanted to be an Astronomer after she graduated. They would’ve gotten along.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get through to Steve better than me,” Nancy suggested.

“He has trouble with science?”

“A little bit of everything. He’s more of a ‘sports and parties’ guy.”

Taking in what Nancy told her and the way Steve acted with both her and Billy, Maeven nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I can see that. Especially with that hair.”

In California, the more popular of the students at Maeven’s school treated their hair like a crown of pure gold atop their heads. It’s part of what attracted her to Billy in the first place. She found it hot when people took care of themselves and took pride in their appearances. 

Maeven was a little jealous that Nancy got to run her hands through Steve’s cloud-soft hair and she couldn’t. But she had Billy. She had Billy. She needed to keep reminding herself of that; she had Billy and she didn’t need anyone else.

“Yep. King Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington,” Nancy chuckled with air–quotes. Maeven almost choked on her saliva.

“What the fuck?” she laughed

“That’s what everyone calls him,” Nany explained. It certainly wasn’t the cleverest nickname Maeven had heard throughout High School, but it was definitely fitting to Steve. And it was interesting to find out that he was apparently voted the ‘King of Hawkins High’. Did that make Nancy the Queen?

“Are you serious? That’s hilarious. It suits him,” Maeven observed.

“What’re you planning on doing after graduation?” Nancy wondered aloud. Maeven’s head perked up as she answered almost immediately.

“Environmental Science. I wanna work for the National Parks Service in Wildlife Conservation,” she explained.

This was the first time Nancy noticed the way Maeven’s eyes lit up with wonder. She seemed almost like a completely different person when talking about something she loved. The fact that she was so self-assured in her future choice of career was something Nancy envied. She had good grades, sure. But starting her Junior Year of High School still having no clue what she wanted out of her life was incredibly weighing on her shoulders. 

“Woah, that's. . .” Nancy trailed off, struggling to find her words.

“Weird?” Maeven finished for her, silently preparing to go back into her shell. But Nancy stopped her before she could; she liked this new girl.

“I was gonna say ‘different.’ A lot of the other girls here say ‘supermodel’ or ‘actress,’” she explained.

Those were common dream jobs she heard back at Newport. She had also heard ‘makeup artist,’ ‘director,’ and ‘musician.’ Her girlfriends back in California had different dreams. Emily wanted to be a teacher, Madison wanted to run her family’s marijuana farm. Cassandra wanted to create special effects for horror movies. 

Maeven was surprised that Nancy didn’t add ‘Princess’ to that list.

“Are a lot of the other girls here boring basic bitches?” Maeven joked.

“No. . .well. . .maybe they are, but not all of them,” Nancy replied. “My friend Barb, she wants. . .wanted to be an astronomer.”

Maeven’s head perked up at the mere idea of another science geek at this school. Her dad had an old telescope and used to take her and Max on trips where they could see the night sky clearer.

“Really? That’s pretty badass, actually. You’ll have to introduce her to me tomorrow,” she suggested, to which Nancy seemed to almost freeze on sight.

“Oh, actually, she’s. . .not around anymore,” she told Maeven, biting back the familiar burning sensation of oncoming tears.

“That’s a shame. It would’ve been nice to know another brainiac,” Maeven said.

“Well, you still have me, here,”  Nancy laughed, grateful that she didn’t cry. Maeven’s heart rate spiked almost immediately at her reply, anxiety filling up her lungs almost like she was drowning.

“Great job, you little bitch. You just insulted her. She’s not gonna want to be your friend now,” the voice taunted.

“Oh, no, no, no. That’s absolutely not what I meant at all, Nancy. I’m sorry,” she stuttered out, her face heating up and her breath growing heavy. 

Nancy’s brow furrowed in uncertainty. Why was Maeven getting so upset? She didn’t do anything wrong. She placed her hand on the new girl’s back, confused and worried when she flinched at her touch.

“Woah, woah. It’s fine, Maeven. You’re good,” she reassured, feeling her heartbeat slowing from her back beneath her palm.

“Sorry,” Maeven panted out, catching her breath as her gripped her sketchbook like a vice.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you if you stop apologizing,” Nancy laughed out.

“Alright, so-. . .thank you,” Maeven corrected herself, finally finding her bearings. Nothing was ruined. Everything was fine. She did nothing wrong. Nancy said so herself.

“Anyway, what’re you doing after you graduate?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I. . .honestly, I’m not sure,” Nancy admitted. It was the first time she said it aloud.

“That’s alright. You’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. It didn’t feel like Nancy had time, even if she was two years away from graduation. All she was certain of was that she didn’t want to walk the same path as her parents.

. . .

Steve held the door open to the library, letting the others walk through. Libraries were easily Maeven’s favorite place in any school. She could spend hours exploring the collection of knowledge each one held.

“And this is the library. It’s usually the busiest when we have Study Hall. Other than that, it’s pretty quiet,” Nancy said.

“It’s nice,” Maeven pointed out, tapping her fingernails against the hardwood table. She found that most libraries were neutral territory; always a little colder than the rest of the rooms in schools and smelled pretty nice despite the fact that some of the books held there were old and dusty. She could picture herself spending a lot of time here, even in the afternoons after school let out. That is if Billy wasn’t too impatient to get driving her and Max home out of the way.

“Yeah, I bet I’m probably gonna find you in here a lot,” Billy joked, playfully nudging Maeven’s arm. He turned to Steve and Nancy. “She’s a bit of a nerd,” he said, pointing at her like it was a big secret.

“I like school. What can I say?”

“No one likes school, Maeven,” Billy laughed at her as they left the library. Nancy noticed the way Maeven seemed to shrink into herself whenever he talked about her, and found herself wondering why.

Nearing the end of the tour as they continued down the halls, Maeven turned back to the map in her sketchbook, marking down the library. The group suddenly stopped at the sound of a shrill, clearly annoyed voice coming from the nearby classroom. Maeven flinched, almost dropping her sketchbook.

“I expect to see you back here next Sunday, Munson! I got you for the next four weeks and I’d rather not see you after that!”

The door to the classroom practically slammed open, making Maeven jump again. Out walked the other end of that seemingly dreadful conversation; a tall boy with a leather jacket and a denim vest with many hand-sewn patches.

“Oh, come on! I know you’d miss me sooner or later, McGrady!” he laughed, tripping over his own feet before regaining his balance and leaning against the set of lockers across from the classroom.

He was a metalhead; that much was obvious, donning a Black Sabbath shirt with ripped jeans and silver rings decorating his fingers. Maeven could see him and Billy getting along. They clearly had the same taste in music, but this Munson guy didn’t seem like the type to hang around jocks due to the way he eyed Steve up and down with purse distaste.

 Even if she only observed him for ten seconds, Maeven could tell that he was a troublemaker. He acted awfully confident and cocky for someone who still had a month of weekend detentions to get through. 

She also couldn’t deny that this guy was an absolute specimen of a human being; his wide brown eyes and the dimples in his smooth cheeks complimented his strong jawline. The bottom locks of his dark brown hair were a little uneven and choppy, stopping just above his soldiers similar to the way hers was. Again, Maeven liked pretty boys; the boys who almost had feminine features and weren’t afraid to show them off.

And of course, he had to have tattoos. She only caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a cluster of bats on his right arm, but it was enough to send a warm chill throughout her body as she squeezed her thighs together. Maeven found her mind lustfully wandering through the possibility of ghosting her fingers over the ink on his skin that no one else saw.

“Munson,” Steve acknowledged him, passively.

“Harrington,” he replied with a wide, teasing smile before turning his eyes to Billy, nodding, “Guy I’ve never seen before.” he nodded.

As he collected his backpack from the ground and turned to pass the group, he turned to Nancy and Maeven; the first giving him a half-smile laced with annoyed tolerance, while the second just stared. It wasn’t in a rude way, though. Maeven observed Munson with widely curious eyes, reminding him of an owl. As he walked past them, he playfully held out his arm and gave a short bow, the same way a gentleman would allow a woman to pass sixty years or so ago. 

“Ladies,” he excused himself before walking the other way. His frivolous demeanor and spirited attitude made Maeven blush, prompting her to bring up her sketchbook up just below her eyes. She huffed out a small laugh as she watched him walk out the double doors, a strange spring in his step.

“Who the fuck was that guy?” Billy asked, looking at Nancy and Steve.

“Nobody important,” Steve rolled his eyes.

. . .

By the time Steve and Nancy finished giving Billy and Maeven the tour, they were n the completely opposite side of the building from where the main office was. 

“Aaaand I guess that’s pretty much it,” Steve concluded, clapping his hands together. “But I suggest you stay away from the woods by the bleachers over there. It’s where our resident freak over there likes to deal.” 

They stopped at the end of a long hallway next to a set of bathrooms and double doors leading out to the football field. Steve warily gestured to the dark woods nestling behind the rusty, silver bleachers.

Maeven wanted to ask for more clarification, but Billy beat her to it.

“You mean drugs?” he laughed

“Yeah. It’s that crazy guy we saw who just got out of detention. I’d steer clear of him. He got held back,” Nancy answered.

Maeven decided to file that piece of information under ‘private’ for a later date. Even if she didn’t plan on being open about it, it was a little more reassuring that she wouldn’t be the only repeat in school this year. And now she knew who to flag down with a private note in a locker when she needed to replenish her stash.

“Noted. I’mma go take a leak,” Billy announced. Nancy handed her purse to Steve, who willingly accepted it.

“I have to go, too. I’ll be right back,” she smiled, leaning up to give him a small peck on the cheek.

“‘Kay.” Steve muttered, giving her a small rub on her back before waving her off. That left him and the new girl in silence by the doors.

She was leaning on her shoulder on the glass window of the door, focussing her attention down in her sketchbook as she raised one leg behind her to give it a break from walking for so long. The glass of the window chilled her cheek as she rested against it, making her arm stim as she shook the feeling off. Her abrupt and random movement caused Steve’s eyebrows to knit. To him, it seemed like her arm was possessed for a split second. Then again, he had definitely seen stranger things happen.

“Aren’t you gonna go rub one out in the bathroom?” the voice suddenly asked Maeven, who gripped her pen in frustration.

“Not with Nancy in there,” she silently replied. “What if she tries to talk to me? I’ll do it when I get home.”

“You’ve touched yourself before with other girls in the stalls next to you. You should’ve done it in the shower this morning. If you don’t go now, you’re gonna regret it later,” it taunted.

“I said ‘no.’”

“Suit yourself.”

“So, your brother seems. . .”

“Step-brother,” Maeven corrected Steve, not breaking her gaze on her sketchbook. She finished her map and drew a little marijuana leaf near the woods as a reference for herself. She would color it when she got home, as well as the rest of the school with her many art materials.

“Your stepbrother seems like. . .kind of an ass?” Steve phrased it like a question, testing the waters before he could dive straight in. Maeven found herself laughing. Steve definitely wasn’t sugar-coating it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tattle on you. He is kind of a prick, sometimes,” she laughed, closing her sketchbook before tucking it into her backpack. She turned to lean her back against the doors as she teetered on her heels, crossing one foot in front of the other as she held her hands together

Steve looked down at her feet, taking notice of the number of scuff marks and the painted white stars on the toes of Maeven’s doc martens. She wore colorfully mismatched socks with random stripes and designs. He caught a small glimpse of the fishnet tights underneath them, pondering at her unique combination.

“Soooo, uh. . .why do they call you Maeven?” He casually asked, not really knowing what else he could say. 

“I’m named after my aunt Maggie, but it gets confusing. Maeven’s my middle name,” she replied, twirling the loose threads of her sweater around her fingers.

“Oh, okay. Got it,” Steve nodded, followed by another awkward silence. 

Maeven wasn’t exactly the type of person Steve would chose to hang out with in his spare time. He couldn’t even really pinpoint what she was all about. This girl was obviously an intelligent over-achiever, but seemed so withdrawn and quiet up close and personal. Most smart kids he met were major attention seekers. For someone who dressed in such a hardcore manner, she wasn’t loud and angry and actually seemed very nice. She was also apparently an artsy nerd indicated by the stickers on her sketchbook and Billy’s earlier comment. Steve wondered if she would get along with Mike and his friends. But he didn’t understand why Billy seemed so fond of her. She seemed more of the type to hang out with freaks like Munson.

“So, you and Nancy? You guys seem happy,” Maeven observed, bringing Steve’s train of thought off-track. It took him a moment to process and answer her.

“Yeah,” he perked up, suddenly grateful that the silence was over. “We’ve been going out for a little over a year now,” Steve reminisced.

“Nice,” Maeven gave him a closed-mouth smile with an added nod. It was reassuring that she noticed him and Nancy without knowing anything prior; it meant the sparks were still there. . .weren’t they?

“What’s it like in California?” he wondered aloud. Maeven’s eyes left his for a moment and she gathered her thoughts.

“A lot bigger. . .and sunnier. Also not as chilly in the fall as it is here.” she told Steve. She found it odd that she never really realized how overwhelmingly warm it was in California until she was moved across the country. It felt nice, though; like a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah. I bet you have a lot more to do there than here,” Steve guessed. He could only really imagine. He had barely tread outside Indiana his whole life, let alone Hawkins. Sure, he was interested in the world outside his home town, but was perfectly content staying right where he was.

“Well, we may have malls and skyscrapers, yeah. But it's packed with people,” Maeven explained, unwrapping the thread from her finger to let the blood flow back in.

“It’s a big state. Hawkins must be a big downgrade,” Steve humbled himself and his home town. He was well aware Hawkins wasn’t really anyone’s first choice.

“Not necessarily,” Maeven counter-argued.

“You like it here?”

“It’s growing on me; a change in temperature, lots of woods surrounding us, not as crowded. What more could I ask for?”

Maeven found the town of Hawkins, Indiana weirdly endearing; a nice change from the overwhelming suffocation of city life, even if she did happen to sense a strange vibe from it. Still, Steve pressed on. He found it hard to believe that she found Hawkins more exciting than California, of all places.

“What part of the state are you from?”

“San Diego. Well, also a little bit from San Francisco,” Maeven told him.

“Really? How does that work?”

“When you’re parents are divorced,” she casually said. Her reply hit a nerve in Steve. 

His parent’s weren’t divorced, so he couldn’t exactly relate. But as far as he was concerned, they should be split up. His mom obviously didn’t trust his father to go anywhere without being under her supervision, lest he ends up seducing other women. That wasn’t what a marriage was supposed to be. Steve promised himself that his and Nancy’s would be different; better.

“So. . .I’m guessing your mom married Billy’s dad?” he guessed. When he saw her mother and sister earlier, he could definitely see the resemblance.

“Yeah. They’ve been together for about ten months now,” Maeven said, to which Steve was taken aback.

“Woah, okay.”

“What?”

“Just seems a little fast. That’s all,” he pointed out. He was raised to believe that you had to court someone for at least a year before even considering marriage.

“It is, yeah. Trust me. I didn’t even find out they were engaged until after they got married,” Maeven rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” Steve tried to suppress his laugh, which Maeven joined in on.

He was surprised she didn’t seem more pissed about it. He certainly would be if he was forced into that situation.

“No offense, but, uhm. . .how did you miss that?”

“Don’t mention that you were in the looney bin for three months. He’s not gonna want to be your friend anymore if he thinks you’re crazy. He already saw you twitch your arm,” the voice warned her.

“I was. . .busy. I kinda buried myself in school and parties,” she told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie; just leaving out three months of the timeline. But Steve didn’t need to know that.

Keeping herself occupied with all her homework, afterschool clubs, drug-fueled parties, and many interests kept her mind off of her parents. There were times when she managed to convince herself her parents weren’t even a part of her life. Of course, she knew that they were still there, but their presence and roles to Maeven were tuned out. She didn’t recognize the people they had become and had to learn to somehow live without seeing them together anymore.

It was a change that she never prepared for, and still found it hard to grasp at times.

“I gotta say, you are. . .totally not what I expected you to be,” Steve realized.

“Really? What were you expecting?” Maeven asked him.

“Most of the smart kids or honor students here are pretty loud and proud. You’re just. . .” he droned, struggling to find the right word.

“Humble?” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure. I was gonna say ‘shy,’ but that works, too,” he clarified. “And now I find out you like parties, and my whole vision of you has changed again.”

Steve wasn’t as noticeably perceptive as Nancy was, that was for sure. But he seemed to make up for it in natural charisma. He also appeared more emotionally intelligent than his girlfriend, even if it seemed like he was still adjusting to his new learning curve.

“You ever heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Steven?” she joked with him.

“I have, indeed,” he playfully answered.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t really understand it until about a year ago,” he confessed, internally cringing at his behavior last year. He still couldn’t believe it had been that long already.

“That’s surprising,” Maeven told him.

“What is?”

“Not to be a hypocrite, but I didn’t peg you as a mean guy,” she added, much to Steve’s relief. He often found himself worrying he was still the same ‘douche-bag,’ as Mike had once called him, that he was a not-too-long ago. Steve didn’t like the person he became when he was around Tommy and Carol.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, you don’t have the whole. . .asshole jock energy the same way Billy does. Sounds like you used to, though?”

Was this girl psychic? It was really starting to freak him out, But he kept talking, anyway.

“Not exactly proud of it, but yeah.”

“I think you should be. . .about changing for the better, that is,” Maeven explained. Steve had never thought about it that way, before. He ended up more engaged in this conversation with the new girl than he thought he would be.

“What classes do you have, by the way?” It just dawned on him, and it triggered Mae to move quickly when taking off her backpack as if she was in a hurry.

“Let me check, hold on,” she said, swiftly dropping to crouch on the ground and dig around inside for the schedule the lady at the front office handed to her.

“Where did that sudden burst of energy come from?” Steve thought to himself. He considered asking why she carried so much stuff in her bag but decided against it.

“Uhmm. . .History and Literature 4 for First period. Then Biology 4, Art, Health. After lunch, it’s Algebra 4, Gym, and then Study Hall. But, I guess that last one is what everyone has,” she read aloud, leaning over to Steve’s side so he could have a look at the paper, too.

“Oh, good, we have Lit and gym together,” he pointed out. “And I think you have Health and Math with Nancy.”

“Nice to know I won't be totally flying blind,” she sighed with relief.

“You’re taking a lot of advanced classes. Higgins wasn’t kidding when he said you were smart,” he complimented. Maeven was about to thank him, but the voice in her head stopped her, ruining it like he hadn’t said anything nice about her at all.“Don’t tell him you should be a senior. Don’t tell him you had to repeat a year. Don’t be stupid, Maeven.”

. . .

A/N: Thanks so much for tuning in and all the love I've gotten back on this! It may not be a lot in terms of other fanfics, but I'm happy even if just one person enjoys my writing. This took longer to write than I thought, as I had to split up what I had originally planned for this one and put it into the next one. As always, I love hearing what you guys think about this and maybe what you might want to see or think will happen.

The Spitfire Curse Taglist:

@yaidothat

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[darkwood-sleddog]

Hi! I was wondering if you have experiences with siberian Husky vs malamute temperaments? My fiance really wants a husky (this would be several years in the future at least) but I've only ever owned herding breeds and she has only had terrier mixes and I'm not sure we could meet the exercise needs. We will be living in Montana and could potentially do some mushing with it, but we need a dog that will at least have a good off switch and tolerate being alone while we work.

My experience is that Siberian Huskies are a lot more high energy than the Alaskan Malamute, however they have a lot of pros as well: Siberians don’t experience same sex or even dog aggression at the rates Malamutes do, they are smaller and easier to transport/pick up if needed. They are a less serious dog in maturity, a bit more goofy.

The Alaskan Malamute has a more calm demeanor overall (Siberian was bred to be a race dog, while the Malamute was never that). They are less likely to climb fencing, but more likely to dig out than the Siberian.

It really depends what you are looking for, but my advice is this: any dog from a decent breeder can be taught to have a good off switch. My dogs are very enthusiastic about running in harness, but are also just as enthusiastic about laying around for 12+ hours a day doing nothing (Zombie especially). And I know Siberians that are similar! It’s the puppy stages that can be hard, but settling can be taught and enforced and is important!

I think having owned herding breeds and your fiance having owned terrier mixes you will be able to meet exercise needs just fine, my dogs are happy with a 1-2 mile walk a night when off from work or longer hikes. We even take entire days off walks in the off season because they cannot be bothered to rise from my floor (Sled breeds are opportunistic nappers). Coming from a terrier background your fiance will be used to dealing with stubborn dogs as well. 

I think the biggest challenge in getting a sled breed will be their less biddable nature, dealing with potential separation anxiety (they are pack animals, but early crate training and routine can help with this), and the difference in size & strength from your previous dogs. Siberians are smaller, but don’t discount this as lack of strength!

I highly recommend finding somewhere you can interact with both breeds and decide what the pros and cons of each are for you. Read the different standards and familiarize yourself with the difference in temperament. 

[sceneshepherd]

Hello, my name is Ghost. I am 20 yrs old & my prns are he/it/ey.

My DNI, nonhuman identities & about me are after the cut.

☆○◦˚⭒IDENTITIES🐺

⛦wolf sometimes a large black timber wolf covered mostly in gray fur, mainly a red wolf. ⛦wolfdog wolf mixed with alaskan malamute & GSD. black fur. ⛦dog usually a black GSD, sometimes a black belgian tervuren, sometimes a black & white alaskan malamute with one pale blue eye, sometimes an anatolian shepherd. i am a stray dog that lives in the woods. ⛦green iguana ⛦invertebrates fruit beetle, yellow flat-backed millipede, hermit crab, ghost crab ⛦werewolf usually all black fur, sometimes gray. ⛦vampire ⛦night elf

⋮⤳my main blog is @stapleworm where i follow and interact with people <3 i have a pinned post there as well! https://stapleworm.carrd.co/ kinlist

⋮⤳i have autism and ADHD and i am a witch. i am a spiritual & psychological therian & otherkin. i try to keep this page sfw but do be warned i dont always check my sources or the pages i reblog from, and i do apologize for the inconvenience, but keep that in mind. this blog is almost 'therapeutic' for me and i dont care if i get any followers, so yeah lol.

⋮⤳DNI: NSFW, d//d//l//g, terfs, transphobes, lgbtphobes, racists, anti-blm, bluelivesmatter, conservative, centrist, democrats, pro-life, christian, misogynists, anti-feminists, cishet men, n*zis, anti-semitics, classists, anti-therian, cringe culture, anti-kin, anti-mogai, anti-neopronouns, gatekeepers, elitists, anti-harm reduction, etc, anything shitty. dont fucking talk to me at all if u agree w any of these things in any capacity.

⋮⤳DONT TALK TO ME IF YOU ARE UNDER 17. I AM NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS. further, if you post heavy politics regularly i probably won't be following you, as i try to limit my exposure to it (it is a huge energy drainer and makes me really depressed!!)

⋮⤳and finally, IF U POST NSFW DONT INTERACT WITH ME. I DONT WANT TO BE EXPOSED TO THAT SHIT UNWILLINGLY, SERIOUSLY.

Here is my canid/werewolf server!!

[papasmistakeria]

I saw a video saying that in the original TNG concept, Data and Riker were supposed to be the best friends transferring from a different ship and as much as I love Geordi and Data's dynamic, I simply can't ignore this concept cause of how much I love it so-

AU where instead of Data and Geordi being besties, it's Data and Riker!

Their friendship would be similar to a brotherly dynamic. Data would consider Riker to be his older brother, someone who's always there to support and look out for him, and Riker would consider Data to be his little brother, the only family he's ever had (not counting his dad)

On their previous ship, Data constantly gets harassed and Riker would always step in to his defense. Riker got into fistfights with the Tactical team for calling Data an 'it'

Everytime Riker gets injured from fiercely "defending Data", he never goes to Sickbay cause then he'd have to explain to the doctor why he got the injuries so the duty would fall onto Data to patch him up as best as he could

Riker willingly spent days and nights not sleeping just to learn about Data's inner workings. He isn't a cyberneticist. However, that doesn't mean Riker would be completely useless in helping his friend when issues rise. He knew the basics enough to help Data with minor injuries or malfunctions

During his first few weeks of practicing the violin, Data would only play if Riker was there to accompany him with the trombone. They've written and composed several songs together but no one knew what they were about

At first, Riker tried to set Data up on a date with someone, but after an incident that left Data almost dismantled, he stopped and from then on, became wary towards anyone who wanted to be close to Data

Riker likes to invite Data to playing sports in the Holodeck, much to the latter's dismay. Let's just say, everytime Riker manages to pull Data for a sport and convince him to "give his all", Riker would leave with broken ribs, limbs twisted in weird ways, bloody nose, and a chipped tooth while Data left with guilt and a lot of apologies to offer

First few weeks on the Enterprise, Data befriended Geordi and the first person he told was Riker. The next day, Geordi received a warning from the First Officer, that if he ever try anything funny on Data, Riker would personally hunt him down. Geordi took his words seriously and promised his intentions were good

When Data took up painting, he painted a sleeping alaskan malamute puppy with the fur colored after Riker's own hair and gave the painting to said person (who loved it). The first thing everyone sees when entering Riker's quarters was the painting

Outside of poker, Data and Riker have secret card game nights. Usually they play Yu-Gi-Oh or incorrectly play Pokemon cards

Riker likes to ruffle Data's hair like your usual older brother and he's one of the very few people Data actually allowed to touch his hair

Data doesn't like to be touched by other people without a reason, it's dehumanizing. However, he found there are certain people's sensory input that he actually enjoyed (even craved). Riker was one of them and his favourite touch from him are the head pats. When the emotion chip was fused into his neural net, Riker's head pats introduced him to the emotion of pride. Also whenever he's having a breakdown, the head pats helped ground him

They also do Holodeck mystery LARPing but instead of Sherlock Holmes, it's Professor Layton. Riker likes the thrill of adventure and beating villanous asses up while Data enjoys a good puzzle and theatrics

Riker once bravely drank Data's bio-lubricant cause some officer was insulting Data for drinking it in public and Riker wanted to prove a point and (once again) defend his friend's honor. He did succeed, but let's just say it ended with him in his bathroom, puking into the toilet bowl while Data gently pats his back. That day, he had the worst tummy ache and the most digusting vomit he ever had in his lifetime

Riker has his own "List of Data's Red Flags" where he listed several things Data should avoid (which Data himself wasn't aware of cause he was just that innocent) which Data happily complied since that meant Riker was looking out for him. Though it took him awhile to convince Riker that "engineers" aren't exactly red flags

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Day One | Hades

Hey lovelies— here is the next part! I wanted to pause here and add a little note: the word tiny is thrown around here. I don’t want this to hinder anyone of you to not read this because you think the word doesn’t apply to you. I want to make a couple things clear. 1) All shapes and sizes are beautiful and I, myself, am a wonderfully plump lady. 2) I don’t use the word as a physical description in a way meant to limit a ‘reader insert’ type of fiction— I use it because Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and anyone would be small to him. Thus I hope you can enjoy it the same way I can— because sometimes we all just need to feel like a super soldier could rip us in half. Stay safe my lovelies and please do enjoy!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: some angsty moments but overall no warnings

Word count: 4.1k

Previous | Next

Master List

She’s tiny. That’s the only thing he can think for the first couple hours. She is so damn tiny and fragile and soft and he doesn’t know how to be around a human that tiny and fragile and soft. Maybe it’s worse because he has to keep this tiny human alive. He hasn’t had to do that before— all the other tiny people in his life have been perfectly capable of keeping themselves alive. Even Steve all those years ago, when he only came up to his shoulder—barely— would have fought tooth and nail to stay alive. Even then it always felt like Bucky was just there in case. Maybe that was just Steve though.

He blinks— he doesn’t want to think about the man right now. He can’t afford to get lost in his head. Gods only know if he starts thinking about those days— the ‘good’ old days— he won’t stop. Maybe not for days. Maybe because they’ll remind him that he’s not supposed to be here— that he isn’t made to keep tiny, gentle, grilled cheese cooking, question asking things alive. Usually he’s the one hindering people from being alive— hindering life itself. Usually it doesn’t bug him this much but he can’t help but equate the girl in the Caltech hoodie with life—

“Is what they say about New York pizza true?”

— And himself with death.

“S’alright— Chicago is better.”

He watches as she flips through a book that she had picked up off the coffee table a few minutes ago. The Big Book of Dogs. Is he supposed to laugh at that? She is— giggling and flipping through pages upon pages of puppies. It isn’t aimed at him, her musical, soft sounds. She isn’t laughing at him. It only feels like she is. He’s learned to separate the difference these days— it’s just in his head. Still, he has to turn away from her, using the guise— his job— of being a bodyguard to keep his gaze moving.

From the corner of his eye he watches as she lowers the book, peaking over at him from behind a peppy looking Alaskan Malamute— yes, he knows his dogs. He is one, after all.

“You know, I think there are quite a few people who disagree with you on that one.”

Bucky pretends to ignore the way she quirks a brow at him, her eyes drifting back to the page. He also ignores the way his heart spikes at the little movement. Snap out of it, Barnes. He stands, stalking to the living room window and pulling back the heavy green curtain. Nobody is out there— he didn’t expect there would be someone, he just needed to move. How many more hours?

“Thought you were asking me.” He quips, staring out towards the bayou where the water has turned grey and choppy.

He watches as the rain pours down the window pane, tap tap tapping in front of his nose as the sunlight surrenders to the misty storm clouds. As much as he hates to admit it, Wilson was right— the rainy season’s rolling in on the dot. Even he is starting to feel the effects, his bones beginning to leaden.

As if on cue, she yawns, setting down The Big Book of Dogs and curling her legs into her chest, hiding them beneath the mountain of fabric she wears. “I was gauging. Consider it a test.”

Bucky huffs— not sure if he’s annoyed because of her questioning or because of how, despite the tension still laced through his shoulder blades like sailors knots, he isn’t that bothered by it. Annoyed because he isn’t annoyed— that’s a first. He lets the curtain drop again and turns to the TV where Netflix lays open but unused, blocking out one mind numbing haze for another. What would they even watch together?

“Oh yeah? Did I pass?”

Maybe some cheesy sit-com. That feels harmless enough and he’s been catching up on a few of them. Some of them even make him laugh. Maybe that’s in poor taste though. He’s never had to deal with someone else’s grief before— he rarely deals with his own as is.

“Maybe it would be better to just not ask that.”

He doesn’t think before he says it— he doesn’t have time to, it slips out before he can grab it and shove it back in his stupid, sentimental mouth. “You sound like Steve.”

Fuck. Her head pokes up, her doe eyes somehow managing to meet his gaze despite how hard he tries to force his neck to turn in the other direction. How does one person look so soft? He can see the question in her eyes, the way they spark with intrigue. He watches in slow motion as her lips— not glossy like they had been in the picture but still just as pink— peel apart.

“Who’s Steve?” Her voice is too sweet— too sincere. Like she actually doesn’t know. Then again, maybe she doesn’t— they never really used his name.

Bucky can’t answer. It’s too early and Steve is too long of a story. One hundred years worth of story, to be precise. How is he supposed to fit all of that into one answer? He can’t. He can’t answer but he can’t not answer either— not when she’s looking at him like she wants to know every little thing about him.

Bucky can’t answer so he doesn’t answer. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She sinks back against the leather cushions, pulling her hands into her sweater. He almost curses when she curls her knees closer to her body. He can’t really see them from under her hoodie but he can see the movement— the way she wraps her arms around her legs so that she looks like a tiny blob of fabric and a head. His chest squeezes at the sight of her pulling away from him. Can he ever say anything right?

He told Wilson— he told him that he wouldn’t be a good fit for the job. What, a man like him? Man, dog, wolf, asshole. What’s the difference? He was right, that’s all that matters. It’s been all of five hours and he’s already making her uncomfortable all because he can’t—

“You’re the one who brought it up.” She grumbles, her soft— less sweet— voice pulling him from his unintentional staring contest with her forehead. His neck flushes with heat. Shit.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s just— it’s a long story, doll.”

Again, it just slips out. Instead of wanting to push the word back into his lips this time, though, he wants to punch himself in the mouth. Doll? Really? He watches as her eyes blow wide, his stomach sinking when her pink lips peel apart again, her jaw going slack but none of her honeyed words coming out this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately he begins running through apologies in his head. Of course none of them are actually worth their weight— not in gold or anything else. Not even in the energy it would take to say them. What’s he supposed to say? Sorry the last time I spoke to a woman was eighty years ago. That would be even more explaining. Damnit, Bucky!

He tries not to groan out loud, clenching his jaw, still staring into her eyes. Look away, you idiot! He can’t. He’s about to say something— or maybe he’s about to literally throw himself out the window, he isn’t exactly sure which is going to play out just yet— but before he can do either the delicate girl in the Caltech sweater speaks first.

“I— erm—” she squirms in her seat but her eyes stay latched on him the entire time— maybe she’s a fighter after all— “we have time?”

For a moment he just stares at her, lost in the way her nose scrunches, her lips pressing together like she’s the one who said something out of line. Like she, too, is contemplating punching herself in the face. That’s when he caves. It’s to save her from a broken nose. He repeats it like a mantra. He isn’t giving in because he’s weak, he’s giving in because it’s his job to make sure she’s safe— even from herself.

He takes a step forward, only now realizing he’s been standing in the middle of the room the entire time. Has he always been this fucking awkward? Nodding his chin towards the floor, the space in front of where she’s perched, he shoots her a look he can only hope resonates as something along the lines of ‘can I sit?’. She nods and he lowers himself to the ground in front of her, leaning against the side of the couch as gently as the super soldier can muster. Despite his efforts he still lands with a thud, the couch shifting backwards a couple inches. It’s not terrible— she only slightly flinches this time and he only kind of wants to bury himself alive.

“Not that much time—” he watches as her face drops, the way her her cheek twitches like she's sinking her teeth into it, and he hurries the rest of his sentence— “but if you ask—” he tries for a smile that feels more like the right side of his face seizing than anything— “then I’ll answer.”

He waits for a beat, his gaze locked on her hands which she pulls from her sleeves only to twist together again. He has to stop himself from looking down at his own hands— from thinking again about how fragile and delicate she is. He doesn’t have to look to know that both of her hands could fit in one of his. Especially his special hand. She hasn’t asked about it. A few times he’s caught her peeking at it, no doubt a million questions swirling behind those wide eyes of hers, but those are questions she has kept to herself. He wouldn’t blame her if she did ask, though— or if she was terrified.

“Alright,” his eyes flick back to her face, meeting her determined stare and avoiding the way his chest lightens, “deal.”

He nods.

“But—”

Oh no.

“You have to ask me things too. It’s only fair— that way we both know things about each other.”

It’s only fair. He doesn’t know what to say. Again. It seems that every time he feels like he’s beginning to figure her out he gets shoved on his ass. Literally— he is quite literally on his ass right now. All because of what? A little girl? A little girl with small hands and a stare worse than his?

A little girl who thinks he of all people deserves fair. He knew life was cruel but this is worse— this is evil.

“Ask away.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Wait, wait, wait— you can’t be serious!”

Her giggles sound more like music than laughter to him. Usually he hates music— the newer stuff at least, maybe Wilson was right; maybe he is an old man— but this is bearable. This is mesmerizing.

He glances up at her from over his shoulder, fighting the same smile that’s been threatening his lips for the better part of two hours now. He isn’t sure why exactly he does it. Maybe because he knows it would be nothing compared to hers. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t deserve to be compared to hers. He isn’t a religious man but it feels blasphemous to even suggest he could exist with a margin of the sanctity she exudes. He’s committed many sins— that he can say with certainty— but to propose that he is the same as her would be the worst one of all.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from soaking up every pious laugh into his wicked skull— he isn’t a perfect man, after all.

“Deadly serious. Steve was pissed at me for weeks. How was I supposed to know she had a husband?” He is rewarded with more giggles, ones that set his chest on fire.

Is that what happens when demons spend too much time around angels— they start to burn?

She pulls the blanket she acquired around an hour ago over her face, muffling her laughter much to his dismay. “You could have asked her!”

Bucky lifts a shoulder before letting it flop back down again. “You’re right.”

This is how it has gone since he proposed she ask him questions. She asks him her question— usually something light and easy— favourite color, favorite food, what was the last thing he bought. That one threw him for a loop but he answered anyway— Chinese food. She had giggled at that. You don’t seem like a Chinese food kind of guy. She’s not wrong. That is usually what she does after the questions, though— giggles. Giggles and teases him. Tortures him. Same thing. He doesn’t even think she knows what she’s doing.

Then, of course, he asks her questions of his own. They’re pretty much the same— favorite animal, middle name, what Passadena is like. Warm and busy. That was her answer— he’s never been to SoCal so who’s to say whether or not she was telling the truth. He really doesn’t care. He was more paying attention to the timbre of her voice— the way she makes normal words sound important. He didn’t know he could be so enthralled listening to someone talk about a cat named mittens.

For the first hour or so it was questions like that. The easy, no commitment kind. He wouldn’t have minded if they had stayed like that but, as he kept answering, she had grown more and more confident. Honestly, he didn’t mind that either. It was interesting to watch as she became comfortable around him. Well, more comfortable than before— more comfortable than he would have thought she could be around a guy like him. Her knees eventually pushed out of that hoodie and she relaxed into the couch. It was strange— completely and utterly strange.

By the second hour she had braved the first of many hard questions. It wasn’t what he thought it would be— still nothing about his arm— it was nothing close to that, actually.

It was about his mother.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a hard question but it was, unexpectedly so. His mother. He hasn’t thought about his mother in years. Longer. Decades. He wasn’t expecting to feel so guilty about it but there he was, feeling like his throat was being crushed, while describing to the tiny, lovely girl— who has just lost her own mother— his mother’s lily of the valley perfume. He assumed that’s why she asked— because she misses her mother. He doesn’t blame her. He just never thought that he would miss his mother, too, today.

The rest weren’t as bad as that one. They still made his jaw ache, sure, but not like that. The ones about Steve were the only ones remotely comparable. How did you meet him? What was he like? What’s your favourite story with him in it? That was the last question— the one that made her giggle herself into a half hanging, half sprawling position over the arm of the couch— the position she is currently in right now.

He doctored the answers a little bit— he figured now isn’t the right time to tell her he’s pushing a hundred and ten— but he kept the good parts. Like how Steve and he had run through the streets of Brooklyn that night— Steve without a shirt and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that he is pretty sure to this day had belonged to her husband— being chased by the New York police. Good times.

“What, erm, what was her name?” Her voice is extra gentle— airy.

She’s nervous or maybe out of breath. He can’t quite tell, she’s too flopped over to get a proper look. She’s breathtaking either way.

All of a sudden it’s extra hard to fight back his smile. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question.”

Sitting up, she pools back into her seat. She scrunches her nose at him but doesn’t object. He can see that she wants to, though. Her eyes hide nothing. Then again he’s been trained to read people— to see the minute tick of her jaw and the invisible pulsing of her pupils. Invisible to anyone but him. Invisible to anyone who isn’t a monster— the big, bad wolf. His borderline smile dies quickly and he can’t bring himself to search for it again. This is how it should be.

Bucky clears his throat, mulling over what to ask her next. His eyes drift over the tan hoodie, the frays on the cuffs and the fact that there are no strings, and, like that, he has an idea.

“What’s the deal with that hoodie?” He tries to make it casual but he really does want to know— it’s like four sizes too big, there has to be a story.

He tries to make it casual but she still sobers. Like her hands receding once more into the cuffs of her sweater, the last remnants of the giggly girl fade from his line of sight. He chases it as far as he can, watching as her fingers disappear completely and lingering just in case it’s only a fluke. But no, they don’t come back, and he wishes he could disappear with them.

“It was—” her tongue pokes out, swiping against her pink lip and making it shine— “it was my dad’s. He, uh, he went to Caltech too. Was part of their alumni.”

The super soldier nods, pulling his legs up as well, hoping that by copying her she’ll see it as a signal to keep going. He doesn’t want to speak over her and accidentally derail her thoughts. He wants to know about her dad— her whole family actually. Whatever is important to her, like the hoodie.

“We used to go to these big alumni dinners and he would talk at them. Families like us were invited I guess— like a thank you of sorts.” Her eyes take on a faraway look, still latched on his but glassy and distant, no longer actually seeing him. It’s a look he understands too well. “One time he pulled me on stage with him. I think maybe I was thirteen? He said—” she stops, swallowing so hard her throat bobs, and he has to shove his hand under his leg to keep from reaching out— ��ah, I’m sorry. He said ‘this girl right here— this is my daughter! If you think I’m good at what I do then you should see her. She’s something I tell you— Gonna be the best this school has ever seen!’”

His chest tightens— not necessarily from her story but from the way her voice cracks, her soft tone becoming scratchy. She swallows again and he hates it. He hates that he can see tears ready to fall and he hates that she’s even here with him under these circumstances.

He hates that he’s still grateful to be here anyway, being the person who she tells her story to.

“Was he right?” He knows it isn’t his question but he has to say something— anything— to make this better. He has no idea if this is it but it’s worth a shot.

Her brows push together, her head tilting slightly to the side, much too elegantly to be normal— are all women this pretty or is it just her? She blinks, clearing some of the mist, eyes drawing over his face. She traces across his brows, down his nose, stopping on his lips for a pulse— like tracing out the rhythm to a song only she can discern. Everything she does is like music. It must just be her.

“What?” She doesn’t say it rudely; she says it like she didn’t hear him— like she was too far lost in the wonderland of her memory to hear anything— and his chest tightens even further.

“You said your father told everyone you were going to be the best— were you?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her, slowing his words and waiting for the recognition to creep in. It takes a moment but it does, the last of the glass evaporating into something else.

“I, uhm, I don’t know—”

“You do.” He presses— he can hear the edge of that something in her tone. The downplay is scribed over her feature— lowered eyes, flat mouth, trembling fingers— she wants to say something.

“What do you even know?”

About anything going on in my head— yeah, that’s not familiar at all.

Bucky doesn’t flinch when she hisses the words at him— partly because, despite the clear ice in her words, he doubts they came out as hard as she was hoping they would. Her voice isn’t made to sound wretched. He knows she could tell him the filthiest things— tear him down to the last peg, spit his name out like a curse— and she would still sound like an angel. That makes her dangerous— or at least it would if she didn’t already have tears welling up in those big eyes of hers again.

He flicks a brow, letting one corner of his mouth tick up, telling himself that it’s only for her peace of mind— to let her know that he isn’t angry at her. That he gets it. That sometimes he feels so fucking confused and hurt and scared that he, too, wants to hiss at people because at least then they leave him alone. Yeah, it’s only for her peace of mind.

“Try slamming the ‘you’ harder next time—” he draws the word out, exaggerating the motion while keeping his features a mixture of schooled and relaxed— “usually works out better.”

Her hands— which have been tangling over the collar of her hoodie— drop into her lap with a thunk, her eyes rolling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome— but you never answered.”

She shoots him a deadpan stare— well, sort of. She never actually stopped looking at him so her face just morphes from vexed to blank. So far it’s his least favourite expression— he would rather she just got angry. He’d rather see fire— or ice— than nothing.

“I thought it was my turn?” Doesn’t she know that the more she avoids the question, the more he wants to know the answer?

Bucky doesn’t let up— he will if she actually tells him to drop it but she hasn’t and he doubts she will— she’s too determined to win. “Consider it payment for your extra questions.”

He holds her gaze still, waiting for the moment she folds. It takes longer than he expects it would, sitting in silence with her eyes on him for almost three minutes. He almost breaks around two and a half minutes. The girl has a way of looking at him like she can see right into his head. Still, he holds, waiting, waiting, waiting until finally— there it is!

Light a light shining in the darkness, her mouth pulls into a merciful smile— well, if mercy means the coy glint in her eye, that is. “I was the best.”

The super soldier nods, finally letting his gaze drop. He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t have to. His point has already been made. He never wanted to be right. He just wanted her to say it. Not for him but for herself. He doesn’t let himself mull over what that says about him. Nothing good. That’s the only answer. It says nothing good about him, the lengths he’s already willing to go to keep this soft, icy girl safe. Him, a monster. It only tells him that he’s selfish— but he already knew that. Those are thoughts for another time.

“Your turn.” He reminds her, leaning back against the arm of the couch, all but aware of the foot of space between his head and her hand which is scratching over the leather behind him.

There is no pause this time— no beat, moment, or minute. Just like that she’s back, moving on to the next topic, almost as though she has had the question queued for ages now, dying to know the answer. He supposes it’s only fair— she let him ask his questions.

“What was her name?”

Her voice lacks the airy note it had held the last time she asked, clearly over waiting, and he has to turn to the window to hide the way he finally cracks, his lips sloping up in a grin that’s both too alien and too familiar. It tastes too much like the old days— like peach schnapps and movie theatre popcorn. She’s not ready for that. He knows because he isn’t.

“Delores.”

_______________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky (if i missed anyone I am so sorry please shoot me a message and I’ll fix it)

[madmilkboi]

I loved the cat hcs for sakusa but omg what about dogs???👁👄👁like omi omi reacting to his s/o with 2 giant doggos *yes this is self indulged* it is canon the he likes dogs soooooo

(I'm not sure if this is important but for context i have an Alaskan malamute and a mixed mastiff which are both huge dogs and they're extremely friendly even tho they seem scary to other people they're just really sweet and I'm a proud dog mommy lmao anyways enough rambling thankss❤❤)

┈┈⋆

━🧋⌒*. Meeting your dogs

summary: omi reacting to meeting your two big dogs

genre: uhm idk do u consider this fluff or???

warning/s: none

a/n: ahhh this is perfect i have 2 dogs too but they're both medium sized and are polar opposites the other dog loves people and headpats while the other will not hesitate on biting you if he doesn't know you lmao but still i love them both and would do anything for them <3

₍ ♡ ₎ sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

• you and Kiyoomi have been dating for a month now and now you were comfortable of letting him inside of your house

• and today he wanted to visit you so you did a bit of cleaning

• it was well kind of tiring since your two dogs would follow you around the house while you cleaned, blocking the area that you're cleaning and would lay there until they get belly rubs

• and the only thing that calmed them down was the roomba that you left on the floor

• both of them were obediently sitting on the couch eyeing the robotic vacuum cleaner

• while you were cleaning the living space's table, a loud knock emitted from the door

• you smiled knowing it was Sakusa

• your two dogs looked at the door, their tails wagging vigorously

• you opened the door and was immediately welcomed with a box of chocolates and flowers

• your two dogs came down from the couch and were barking at Kiyoomi while their tails were happily swaying from left to right

• crescents formed on his eyes seeing that you have pets, and the fact that you had 2 dogs made him happy

• "ah sorry if they're loud, they're just really happy to see you" you said, he fanned his hand and told you it's okay.

• "you didn't tell me you had 2 dogs" he took off his mask, knowing your house was clean. He put down the gifts that he bought on the table and slowly walked to them

• "you like dogs?" You asked, he gave you a wide smile "i sure do" he answered

• your dogs were very well behaved, usually they'd jump around and bark but in front of Kiyoomi they were gently wagging their tails with their tongues showing

• he didn't hesitate on patting their heads, giving them both equal attention

• "I'm surprised you're not scared of them" you told him "usually people wouldn't want to go near them because of their size" you reasoned

• "they're not scary, they're like big puppies" he exclaimed giving one of them a belly rub

• you smiled, finally someone who doesn't judge a dog by their appearance

• the day went on with you and him watching netflix, playing indoor games and teaching your dogs new tricks

• and as Kiyoomi frequently visited your home, your dogs would get happy and giddy seeing that their favourite person came to visit them (Kiyoomi is visiting you actually lmao)

• he'd always bring treats or new toys for them to play

• would offer on taking them out for a stroll outside (to which the dogs love so much)

• they once went home covered in mud (Omi was kinda pissed though but he can never get mad at dogs)

• would treat them like his kids really

• has a picture album dedicated to both of them

• the dogs got attached to him to the point where whenever he leaves they bark and let out howls and would even block the door with their bodies

• and Sakusa would look at you with a "guess i should stay here until they're asleep look"

• and actually you didn't feel bad for him since him staying a bit more means more time to cuddle with him under the covers while your dogs lay in the bed

• let's just say that if ever someone's asks where his happy place is he'd reply with "Y/n's house"

• though it may seem like Omi loves the dogs more than you, you're placed no.1 in his heart

©️ madmilkboi 2021 do not copy or repost.

🏷: @crescenttooru @leronddesorciere @fleurdedyo @owlnymph @kawaiiisis (shoot an ask or dm if u wanna be added on my taglist! ^v^)

[euclarisse]

⟨  CAMILLE  RAZAT.    CIS  FEMALE.    SHE  /  HER.  ⟩    though  the  mist  might  prevent  some  from  seeing  it,    CLARISSE  PROUVAIRE    is  actually  a  descendant  of    K H I O N E.    it’s  still  a  question  of  whether  or  not  the    TWENTY - SIX    year  old    ART  HISTORY  MAJOR    from    AVIGNON,    FRANCE    has  taken  after  their  godly  parent  completely,    but  the  demigod  is  still  known  to  be  quite    EBULLIENT    &    HAUGHTY.

                  ❄    DOSSIER.      ❄    PINTEREST.      ❄    PLAYLIST.

PERSONALITY.

a  sunny  disposition  offsets  clarisse’s  frosty  lineage.    while  one  might  expect  her  to  brush  you  off,    the  girl  is  rarely  seen  without  a  smile  on  her  face,    and  is  welcoming  to  all  she  meets    ⸺    just  as  long  as  they  treat  her  well.    after  all,    her  name  means    ‘  bright  ’,    and  she  is  ever - determined  to  prove  herself  as  such  ;  clarisse  is  always  happy  to  lend  a  hand  where  needed  or  offer  a  shoulder  to  cry  on  if  someone  is  upset.    she  is  a  force  of  positive  energy,    forever  trying  to  find  the  silver  lining  where  there  may  not  always  be  one.    while  she  rarely  lets  things  get  to  her,    clarisse’s  desire  to  trust  and  see  the  good  in  all  means  that  she  is  often  misled.    she’s  not  always  the  best  judge  of  character,    and  she  has  been  hurt  because  of  it  in  the  past.    people  tend  to  mistake  her  trust  for  naivete,    and  while  she  can  be  quite  oblivious  to  people’s  intentions  at  times,    she  won’t  allow  them  to  walk  all  over  her.

          as  the  middle  child  in  a  family  of  three,    clarisse  has  often  felt  like  she  has  to  prove  herself  in  order  to  be  seen.    a  perfectionist  at  heart  and  a  dancer  for  most  of  her  life,    she  tends  to  focus  on  the  smaller  details  and  gets  frustrated  when  things  become  misaligned  or  fall  out  of  place.    she  is  extremely  studious  and  hardworking  as  a  result,    and  has  always  been  at  the  top  of  her  classes.    she  refuses  to  let  herself  be  anything  less  than  number  one,    and  can  occasionally  come  off  as  something  of  a  snob  when  something    (    or  someone    )    doesn’t  meet  her  standards.    once  clarisse  sets  her  heart  on  a  goal,    she  will  always  see  it  through,    no  matter  the  outcome.    she  sees  mistakes  as  a  reason  to  learn  and  better  herself.    improvement  is  never  out  of  reach  for  her  and  it  is  something  that  has  always  been  encouraged  by  her  loved  ones.

          being  surrounded  by  people  is  one  of  clarisse’s  great  joys  in  life.    she  is  fond  of  large  crowds  of  people  and  seldom  likes  to  be  alone,    having  always  been  lucky  enough  to  have  at  least  one  friend  by  her  side.    clarisse  is  usually  seen  as  the  mother  figure  in  her  friend  groups,    and  has  frequently  been  described  as    ‘  the  sensible  one  ’.    there  is  nothing  she  wouldn’t  do  for  her  loved  ones,    but  be  warned,    once  you  have  betrayed  her  trust  and  shown  her  your  true  colours,    she’s  not  so  easily  swayed.    she  is  a  firm  believer  that  second  chances  should  be  earned  through  actions,    not  freely  given,    and  no  one    ⸺    not  even  herself    ⸺    deserves  to  be  excused  purely  on  words  alone.

FACTS.

clarisse’s  mother  is  an  art  collector,    often  acquiring  rare  and  exquisite  pieces  to  sell  to  museums.    both  philippe  and  madelyn  are  benefactors  of  several  large  and  infamous  art  galleries  in  france    (    including  the  louvre    ).    their  donations  are  annual,    significant,    and  their  names  are  almost  synonymous  with  some  of  the  most  prominent  art  communities  in  europe.

clarisse  has  a  grey  long - haired  cat  named  basile.    he  is  of  the  norwegian  forest  breed,    and  was  chosen  with  the  knowledge  that  norwegian  forest  cats  are  adapted  to  colder  climates,    much  like  the  siberian  husky  or  alaskan  malamute.    the  name  basile  means    ‘  regal  ’    in  french,    and  clarisse  frequently  calls  him  her  little  prince.    he  is  her  emotional  support  animal  due  to  her  anxiety.

khione  has  visited  her  daughter  many  times  over  the  years,    though  she  would  often  disguise  herself  prior  to  clarisse’s  official  claiming,    as  she  wanted  to  give  her  daughter  some  semblance  of  normalcy  until  then.    she  always  brings  her  small  gifts,    often  in  the  form  of  jewellery,    and  was  usually  introduced  to  her  as  a  distant  aunt.    one  gift  in  particular  arrived  on  the  eve  of  clarisse’s  sixteeth  birthday  and  was  a  silver  necklace  featuring  a  pendant  of  intricate  snowflakes.    clarisse  has  never  taken  it  off  and  she  treasures  it  immensely.

clarisse  speaks  with  a  heavy  french  accent,    and  it  can  be  quite  difficult  to  understand  when  she  is  speaking  quickly.    her  language  preference  is  french,    as  it  is  her  main  tongue,    and  it  pleases  her  greatly  when  she  runs  into  other  people  who  can  also  speak  french  as  she  doesn’t  have  to  be  so  self - conscious  about  her  speech.

clarisse  was  a  summer  member  of  camp  stark  from  2010 – 2012,    and  left  the  camp  when  she  was  seventeen  years  old.    she  went  on  one  quest  in  the  first  month  of  her  final  year,    and  was  accompanied  by  two  other  camp  members.    their  task  was  to  seek  out  and  return  the  diadem  of  mnemosyne  to  calliope,    the  leader  of  all  muses.    they  were  successful.

before  arriving  at  eonia  university,    clarisse  attended  the  ballet  de  l’opéra  national  de  paris,    where  she  went  on  to  become  one  of  their  principal  dancers.    at  the  age  of  twenty - three,    she  was  forced  to  quit,  after  a  trio  of  harpies  attacked  her  and  several  audience  members  during  a  performance.

POWERS.

aerokinesis    :    perhaps  the  one  power  clarisse  has  used  before  but  still  has  yet  to  fully  refine.    occasionally,    on  a  cold,    stormy  night,    when  the  wind  rattles  the  windows  in  their  frames,    she  is  able  to  brush  it  away  as  it  it  were  a  mere  fly  hovering  about  her  head.    she  has  summoned  gusts  of  wind  in  the  past,    the  most  recent  that  she  can  recall  being  her  final  performance  with  the  ballet  de  l’opéra  national  de  paris.    audience  members  and  staff  will  say  that  it  came  from  the  hole  in  the  ceiling,    but  she  knows  what  she  did,    what  she  is  capable  of  doing.    the  wind  swept  from  her  body  as  sharp  as  knives,    whipping  through  the  theatre  like  a  winter  gale.    it  tore  a  hole  through  the  roof  and  blew  the  creatures  away.    she  cannot  forget.    she  will  always  remember  what  she  is  able  to  do.

cryokinesis    :    it  comes  as  naturally  to  her  as  breathing.    at  five  days  old,    she  was  creating  small  blizzards  in  her  room.    by  eight  years  old,    she  was  making  slides  down  the  staircase  by  pouring  water  over  the  steps  and  freezing  it  to  ice.    clarisse  never  found  it  particularly  strange  or  peculiar  that  she  was  able  to  manipulate  the  cold  with  such  ease.    in  fact,    when  she  was  younger,    she  assumed  it  was  something  that  all  children  could  do,    and  was  left  astonished  when  her  brother  informed  her  otherwise.    she  learned  to  embrace  her  unique  gift  from  a  young  age,    and  taught  herself  how  to  hone  her  abilities  without  expert  instruction,    almost  to  the  point  of  perfection.    she’s  learned  how  to  create  beautiful  figures  made  of  ice,    sculptures  that  her  parents  would  proudly  display  during  dinner  parties  and  family  gatherings.    she  uses  her  cryokinesis  habitually,    and  it  is  something  she  is  completely  unashamed  of,    even  if  the  frequent  demonstration  of  her  power  has  brought  her  trouble  in  the  past.

fearspeak    :    clarisse  is  too  fair  and  too  kind  to  ever  willingly  use  this  ability  on  someone  who  doesn’t  deserve  it,    and  every  time  she’s  ever  used  her  fearspeak  in  the  past,    she  has  felt  nothing  but  the  deepest  of  regret.    for  her,    it  is  a  shame  she  must  carry.    she  never  wishes  to  incite  fear  in  anybody,    but  she  can  sometimes  perceive  what   they  are  feeling.    it  speaks  to  her,    calls  out  to  her,    and  when  it  does,    she  can’t  help  but  inform  them  of  the  worst.

other  abilities  :

heat  sensitivity    :    the  first  ability  that  ever  manifested  in  clarisse  was  a  sensitivity  to  heat.    her  mother  could  never  understand  why  her  baby  would  cry  relentlessly  in  the  middle  of  summer,    or  by  the  fireplace  in  the  living  room  when  it  was  lit.    the  hottest  days  of  the  year  were  an  endurance  for  the  entire  family.    while  she  was  as  obedient  and  easygoing  as  they  came,    it  was  the  one  time  of  the  year  where  she  would  fuss  and  stick  up  her  nose.    she’s  gotten  in  frequent  trouble  with  her  father    (    who  has  a  weak  disposition  and  bad  circulation    )    for  turning  down  the  heating  during  the  coldest  winter  nights.    extreme  heat  makes  her  skin  feel  itchy,    like  she’s  about  to  break  out  in  hives  or  burn  to  a  crisp  on  the  spot,     but  she’s  learned  not  to  complain.

immunity  to  cold    :   clarisse  has  never  felt  the  cold  the  way  that  she  felt  the  heat.    she  says  it  brushes  over  her  like  water    ⸺    almost  unfeeling,    rippling  over  her  skin.    in  the  depths  of  winter,    she  can  walk  around  in  single  layers    ⸺     the  thinnest  silk  dress,    the  shortest  sleeved  t - shirt    ⸺    with  a  smile  on  her  face,    as  if  it  were  any  other  day  of  the  year.    she  seldom  wears  thick  winter  jackets,    but  if  she  does,    know  that  it’s  for  everyone  else’s  sake  than  for  her  own.    it’s  better  to  fit  in  than  be  judged.

OUT  OF  CHARACTER.

it’s  your  fave,    nixie    (    24,    gmt,    she  /  her    )    coming  in  with  muse  number  two    !!!    very  happy  and  excited  to  finally  be  writing  clarisse,    who  I  have  thus  dubbed  as  my  lil  sunshine  winter  baby.    I  know  I’ve  been  hyping  her  up  for  the  last  few  weeks,    but  I  absolutely  cannot  wait  to  write  her,    so  come  and  plot  with  me    !

[puppyexpressions]

5 Reasons Dogs Howl

No matter where you live, you almost certainly have had the experience of being out on the porch late at night and hearing the unmistakable sound of dogs howling in the distance. So, why do dogs howl?

Researchers believe that dog howling is bound up in dog genetics. The ancient dog breeds are recognized for how closely their DNA matches that of the wolves from which they descended. When answering the question, “Why do dogs howl,” we have to examine the following questions, too — Is dog howling an atavistic expression of a shared wild ancestry? A lingering vestige of wolf times and pack activity? Communication seems to be at the heart of things, so let’s seek to answer the query, “Why do dogs howl” — and find out what they might be saying.

1. Dog howling is a community organizing and homing beacon

In the wild, wolves and feral dogs howl to bring scouts back to the pack after a hunt. Dogs who remain behind howl to provide the location of their base. So, one of the answers to, “Why do dogs howl?” is that dog howling acts as a vocal homing beacon or a kind of auditory lighthouse which guides other pack members back.

Pet dogs howling can be a similar expression, particularly if you’ve been out of the house all day. Dogs howl to beckon their loved ones back home.

2. Dog howling is boundary demarcation and defense mechanism

Howling signals to other dogs that the area they are entering has been claimed and occupied. It is a warning to outsiders that encroachment risks the threat of violence. Howling dogs announce their presence and alert their community to changing circumstances. In this context, dog howling functions as a defense mechanism, warding off potential predators and ensuring the safety of the dogs in the pack.

In a domestic setting, like your home, the answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” might be for the same reason. Some dogs bark, others howl when a stranger comes to the door or a new car pulls up in the driveway.

3. Dogs howl to attract attention or express anxiety

A simple answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” A howling dog may simply want attention. Some dog owners know that dogs can be as emotionally manipulative as any human. The sound of a dog howling attracts the attention of his owner. Maybe you dash across the house to see what’s wrong, only to find yourself greeted by a dog who wants to be played with. Go through this routine enough times and the dog will learn that howling is an effective way to bring you running.

Of course, there are two sides to this coin. If your dog knows that you leave for extended periods of time, he may howl as an expression of separation anxiety. Dogs that don’t have toys or sufficient things to entertain them in your absence get sad, lonely and depressed. So, the sad answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” could be that your dog is howling in protest of being left alone. Imagine if someone put you in a crate all day or left you in some other space for an extended period of time. You’d howl, too!

4. Dogs howl in response to stimuli and bonding exercises

Dog howling can be a response to environmental triggers. Common provocations include ambulance, police or fire-engine sirens. The sound of these noises were the only times that my dog ever howled. The distant sound of approaching sirens always prompted her to sit up and join in the wailing. The reason remains uncertain, since she never howled at the sound of other dogs howling. Perhaps the pitch of sirens awoke some otherwise-dormant genetic memory.

Much of our research confirms that dog howling occurs when certain sounds are perceived. The prompts and triggers can be anything: music on a stereo at a party, popular television theme songs, or the sound of musical instruments. People who enjoy dogs howling even seem to encourage their dogs by howling themselves! It would seem that one reason dogs howl is the experience of community or of bonding. Why do dogs howl at sirens? Why do dogs howl when you howl? Perhaps it’s to join in and be a part of the action.

5. Dogs howl to alert you to injury or discovery

Another answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” could be that dogs howl to express injury. People weep when they get hurt; dogs howl in similar situations. Dogs howl to vocalize pain. Some dogs are also trained to howl when they make discoveries. Hunting dog breeds howl to signal the pursuit or apprehension of prey. If a dog has treed, cornered or caught something, he may howl to alert his owners to the location of the prize.

Does your dog like to howl, or “sing”?

Some dog breeds certainly tend to howl more than others. Breeds known for howling include Alaskan Malamutes, American Eskimo Dogs, Beagles, Coonhounds (Black and Tan, Bluetick, Redtick, English, Redbone and Treeing Walker), Dachshunds, Foxhounds (American and English), Hounds (Bloodhound, Basset), Huskies (Alaskan and Siberian), Native American Indian Dogs and Tamaskan Dogs, among others.

Some final thoughts on the question, “Why do dogs howl?”

One thing to consider is that dog howling, like any other form of vocal expression, has no fixed meaning. The answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” is a shifting signifier whose interpretation is situation-dependent. I enjoy going to karaoke; is it so difficult to imagine that a dog might not howl out of necessity, but out of joy?

[treewithabark]

AGNRY ESAY RANT FITE ME

Okay lads buckle in. I need to have a fat rant and a whinge today and it’s going to be a long one. This is literally an essay long rant of 1,900+ words so don’t click the read more unless you’re prepared to scroll through a fuck ton of angry writing. Will probably delete this later, I don’t care if people read or not, I just really need a space to get out all my feelings because I have a lot of built up frustration in regards to other peoples reactions to myself and Hana

It is poorly written and stuff has been missed out because there’s so many situations that I can write about so I picked a “few”

I am so sick of people looking at me and Hana and judging us at face value for something we’re not even a part of. Let’s start with day to day walking.

We walk up our town’s highstreet often. It’s the easiest way to access all good walks in the area, even if we don’t walk up the entire highstreet we still have to cross through it halfway to access the quiet side streets. Hana is pretty much always muzzled along these streets. Halfway through the highstreet are a couple of people who have a dog or two off lead, and while friendly, these dogs don’t have the best recall when they see a dog. We always cross to avoid these dogs as they don’t seem to cross roads without their owners. While irritating I don’t mind this so much as they’re easily avoided. However, lots of other people walk their dogs up and down this highstreet, we have lots of dog friendly shops and cafes (I even work in a dog friendly café, I will come back to this later) and as mentioned above, it is the main and easiest way to access the best walks.

The number of times I’ve had dogs lunge, bark, and generally make at scene as I walk past Hana is pretty high. Hana for the most part is very good at dealing with this, she can keep a great focus on me, and while she sometimes pulls towards the source of noise to see what’s happening, the only time she has tried to instigate something with another other dog I caught and corrected the behaviour before she even had the chance to make it a big reaction. Yet despite this good behaviour from her part, when people turn around to see who and what is making a huge commotion all eyes fall on her, and I get the judgmental looks and glares of disapproval. One time a terrier on the other side of the road barked at a woman walking three dogs on the same side as me (I was lurking behind a several meters) and all three reacted at once and was lunging at the side of the road. Some people poked their heads out of nearby shops while others turned around. Again, I had some funny looks even though Hana was in a loose lead heel and making no noise at all.

Let’s go back to that café I work in. It is dog friendly, I like this. I meet many lovely dogs here. My favourite being the Finnish Lapphund, Luca, and his lovely owner. There is one particular woman who comes here every day, sometimes twice a day, with her two westie mixes. They bark a LOT. She leaves them tied to the table to have a cigarette outside most days, again at least once or twice. When she does this, they bark. When someone sits near them with food, they bark. Someone they know walks in, they bark. Another dog walks in?? They go absolutely nuts. Sometimes they are calmer and bark less, but most of the time, guess what, they bark. We even had a customer report that one of them had bitten another customer, but since the customer in question hadn’t approached us to make a complaint we couldn’t do anything about it.

Sometimes on my day off I will pop in with Hana (again, always muzzled and usually wearing a marked harness to caution others to give us space) so I can get a discount coffee before or after a walk. Yet again, Hana is always on her very best behaviour. I’ve worked hard to have her calm and focused in these environments. The drill is that we walk in on a close heel, we join the queue (sometimes go straight to the till, these are the best days) and she sits on the inside so she isn’t in the walkway. Sometimes I do a down stay just to mix things up ;) I always hope that these westie mixes aren’t in at the same time because they are loud and distracting, but we’ve seen them a few times and they will go nuts. Sometimes they are quiet until we turn to leave, but there is always a reaction from them. In this case most dirty looks go to this woman, but a couple of times I have had the look despite Hana being quiet and controlled, but looking at the noise makers.

This brings us to today. There is a lady who walks a lovely 1 year old husky. She has come into our Café before and her dog was beautifully behaved. My coworker also has a husky so they talked for a little while and I joined in every now and then. During the conversation this lady brought up that her husky had been bitten on the cheek by a malamute while chatting with its owners. Both dogs on lead, and the malamute owners assured her that their dog was fine with other dogs. However, he still got bitten. I have since seen this woman from a distance a few times on walks, she has never recognised or acknowledged me but she has no reason to because we are always so far away, and I only recognised her from the dog. One of these times she and another owner took up the entire pathway to the only entrance to a walk (which is several meters wide) while their dogs greeted each other and played on lead. I kept back and sat Hana to the side working on her focus, waiting for them to move. They did after 5 minutes and although a bit peeved it didn’t affect our walk.

Today she was leaving from that entrance, again I must mention that this walkway is SEVERAL meters wide, so I took Hana to the very edge and sat her down to work on focus, on the inside so that I was blocking her from the dog. This is when she calls over “your dog has gone for mine before hasn’t it?”. Now Hana has NEVER met this dog, only seen him from afar, and never once has she reacted to it except having a little look at him. This stunned me and all I could answer was “uhhh, well she’s not friendly”. What I should have said is “no they’ve never met but mine isn’t friendly which is why we’re giving you some distance”. She then said that she will move into a shop so we can pass, again I should have said thank you and moved on, but I said that it was fine for her to pass as she is (she was right on the other side) because my dog is fine and it’s quicker for her just to walk by. She then asked if Hana lunged at other dogs, to which I replied, sometimes, if the dog enters her space. She then went into the story about how a malamute attacked her dog when the other owners said that it was fine and that she feels uncomfortable with other malamutes and similar dogs that may lunge as she doesn’t trust that they will actually be okay. I of course already know this story, and know that the dog that bit her dog was in close proximity as they were having a conversation and were stood close to each other. I told her I understood but Hana has pretty good focus on me around other dogs and that she’s unlikely to lunge (side note: if Hana DID lunge she would not be at all close to her dog). She again said that she was uncomfortable and that she’s not personally attacking me but it’s just how she feels. Again, understood, all cool. She then decided to make a “little suggestion” about getting a walking belt like hers that attaches to her lead, so that if my dog were to lunge there is no way that I could drop the lead by accident. I thanked her and said I’ve looked at them before so will maybe look into it again. I then pointed out my muzzle and said that she usually wears this, but at this time of day we rarely pass any dogs on the street and the walk we are entering is all dogs on lead, so it was clipped to my jeans rather than her wearing it. She gave me a real funny look at this, not happy with my answer. At this point I offer to leave the walkway and walk Hana away so she can leave without feeling uncomfortable which she took. And that was the end of it. But what I can’t convey through this rant is the condescending tone this woman had while talking to me, and the disbelieving look she gave me the whole time. OH and did I mention that Hana was in a sit stay the whole time, taking treats from me and watching her dog calmly???

It just irritates me that people seem to look past Hana’s great behaviour, and instead see a 5’2 girl walking a massive fucking dog with a muzzle and sometimes warning signs, and take this to mean that she isn’t trained or is automatically a danger to everyone around her. Or that the noise must always come from her since she is the dog in a muzzle and is obviously the perpetrator  The muzzle is there to protect other dogs if they happen to enter her space, and the signs on her harness are to warn people that she needs a little bit of space. She is not a bad dog.

Now I know myself that Hana isn’t perfect. This isn’t a post to gloat about how well behaved my dog is despite her issues and everyone else is wrong. Some walks we struggle with behaviour, some walks are stressful because off lead dogs are harassing her and she’s too over the threshold to pull a focus from her. But you know what I do on those days? I avoid places with too many dogs and people, I skip my coffee, I take the longer route around to make sure she is stress free and her walking is good.

And I’ve also met so many people who have been so brilliant with their own dogs, and understanding of Hanas need for space. Lots of people call their dogs away at the sight of us, and will allow us to pass. We have received compliments from lots of people at how calm Hana is and about how beautiful she is. We have people ask us about the muzzle just out of curiosity, and ask if it’s okay to greet her. I’ve had conversations with other dog owners while Hana is calm and happy just being at a comfortable distance from them. So many people make my day better from their compliments and understanding, yet somehow the negative moments stick with me more.

RANT OVER OH MY LORD

I still have so many stories about off lead dogs but I will not go into that because that will just be another 1,000 words. AHGHJGJGFKDHB

[orcinus-ocean]

Pit Bulls Unleashed: My dissection (part 1)

So, I said I was going to tear this documentary apart, and now I’ve finally got the time to do it. I quit watching after less than 15 minutes the first time because I thought “I need to make a review and write it as I watch”. So here you go.

(After a while I realized I would have to split it into several parts, because it’s already getting too long and no one would read any longer than this.)

Disclaimer about sensitivity: This film deals with the very real tragedy of a child being violently killed, and the trauma the babysitter suffered. I in no way wish to be disrespectful to this. I am not a parent myself, I have no idea what it’s like to lose a child, let alone in such a brutal way, and I have never been present for a brutal attack or death. That however, does not mean people in shock and grief know what they are talking about, and if I hear them saying false, misleading or ridiculous things, I will correct it, but that is all in the interest of getting to honesty and truth, not dancing on a poor child’s grave or their grief. So I don’t need comments telling me how insensitive I am.

The film opens with a real emergency call of a woman screaming about two pit bulls attacking a child, cuts to footage with blood in the snow, then cuts to the same woman saying to the camera that she would "never have imagined in a million years that my dog - my PET - would attack me, and kill a child".

It cuts to the child's father graphically describing the sight of his son after the attack, with a picture of the toddler before it happened.

Overall, with the choice of clips and music, I get a very “modern sensationalist drama-docu feel”, similar to Blackfish and Fatal Attractions.

The first scene depicts about 30 dogs (a dozen of which being "pit bull type dogs") from a shelter in California being welcomed in Calgary. The organizer of this move explains they are taking in dogs on “death row”, that no one has so far shown interest in adopting, and if they didn’t take them, the dogs would be dead. (Then the narrator says these airlifts are done by an “animal rights group” - I think he’s a bit confused about what that term means.)

It cuts to a promotion video showing the pit bull as a perfect family pet, as well as celebrities owning and promoting pit bulls, including Cesar Millan explaining how he raised his kids around pit bulls, and that he hasn’t had a negative story with them.

It then cuts back to the woman in the intro, Susan, saying she used to watch Dog Whisperer before getting "the puppies", and that the show and number of celebrities getting pit bulls was important in convincing her that the dogs were safe.

This is warning sign number #1 to me. They thought the breed must be fine, because "X celebrity has them". I've watched most Dog Whisperer episodes, and in every single one it says "don't try this at home", but I also know how much the average Joe doesn't understand at all what's going on in the show, and so they think they can deal with a dog and be more likely to end up being Mr Millan 2, than one of the horrible cases he deals with (and typically, the cases he works with did watch his show, they just didn’t get the message at all or misinterpreted it horribly).

I may be reading too much into it, but it feels like she’s blaming Cesar for her failure. Meanwhile, he has a vast pack of dogs, maybe half of them pit bulls, often with bad stories, and they never attack each other or a human. He said the breed is fine, he never said every single person can own them. He even lists them among what he calls the “powerful breeds” frequently.

It then cuts to big warning sign #2 for me, as the narrators say how Susan and her boyfriend “adopted two puppies” crossed between pit bull and staffordshire terrier. I couldn’t believe it when I first watched and I hope it’s taken out of context, because it shows puppies maybe 3, 4 weeks old in her arms, and being fed milk in a bowl.

Again, I hope this is out of context and it doesn’t mean that a person with perhaps no dog experience took in these young puppies without a mother, but what’s certain is they took two littermates (or puppies the same age), and raised them together.

That is a horrible idea, as everyone with dog experience knows. You never buy two puppies at once, because you can’t influence them as well as if you had them one-on-one, or only with older dogs. And if she really did take them at barely a month old, that is another huge alarm bell going off.

An animal taken prematurely from its mother will not be as mentally sound as if it had a mother. A human can never do the job as well as a mother of their own species. Let alone a human that perhaps never owned dogs before.

I’m already not surprised it went the way it did. And of course she’ll blame the dogs.

She goes on about how the dogs were trained, socialized with other dogs, how friends’ kids would come over, and that the dogs were loved. I don’t doubt this at all. But this is the common error people make - they think that in order for a dog to attack, they must be abused. So in her mind (perhaps), if the dogs weren’t abused, and they did attack, it must be the breed’s fault.

This is entirely false. All it takes is an owner who misunderstands and disrespects the animal’s nature, and with her ignorance displayed so far, that’s pretty obvious to me.

She sounds exasperated at the fact that the dogs were cuddling with her in her bed “that morning”, and it again cuts to the image of the toddler boy, Dax.

The narrator explains how, on the morning of March 6th, 2013, Susan was babysitting Dax as she had many times before, and it cuts to his dad, Jeff, describing his boy. The narrator then explains how that morning, Susan let the dogs out while holding Dax, and that within seconds, the dogs went “from pets to predators”.

"They just kept coming at us, and Dax... they pulled him out of my arms, and...“

I wasn’t there, no one but her was there, to my knowledge there is no footage of the event, but what I can guess at is that the two dogs - brought up together as puppies by an inexperienced owner, perhaps allowed to jump and lick and play very “rambuctiously”, because she thought they were “perfectly safe” (no dog is “perfectly safe”, unless it’s a 15 year old Chihuahua with no teeth), were running around, playing, engaging in normal predator-play fight behavior between each other.

Then they went over to Susan and Dax, and started jumping on her in a “playful” manner, and she held Dax back (again, this is all speculation), something people almost always do when holding a child and dogs interfere.

What happens then is as you move the child (same if you’re holding an object, like food), it becomes a target. As it moves away, the dogs want to follow, and have it more. Then the two of them would have been jumping on her, still in predator-play/fight mode, and it switched very quickly from play to reality, to adult predator mode.

I said it the other day in the other post, I’ll say it again, because people need to get it - dogs are not rational.

DOGS. ARE. NOT. FURRY. HUMANS.

In 2012, a case happened in Sweden that could have led to a death, but didn’t. Two Alaskan malamutes were out running in the forest, far away from their (irresponsible) owner. The dogs came upon a few women riding horses, and so chased the horses (prey animal). The horses bolted, and eventually, one of the riders jumped off as she could not control her horse, and the dogs proceeded to savage her.

She survived, but both dogs were killed. The owner faced no charges. Of course. It’s what always often happens. I was enormously frustrated at this, becuase most likely, there was nothing wrong with the dogs. Nothing at all.

They were just predators (malamutes have this stronger than many other breeds, and they are very large and powerful, but all dogs have it to some extent) running together in the forest (pack behavior, egging each other on to a state neither dog could have been on their own), they found large prey animals, they chased the prey animals, all these hormones would be coursing through their systems, preparing them for “the kill”, and then a human fell to the ground.

At that point, all rationality, all the years they’ve spent being loved by humans and perhaps never showing aggression even once, go out the window. The human is now just a piece of meat on the ground, a prey that has fallen. The dogs might have been completely normal, they just ended up in the wrong situation, because of a stupid, reckless owner, who went unpunished and could then go and just buy another two large, powerful dogs and set them loose in the forest and the same thing would happen again.

(Also in Sweden at the time, debates emerged about “Is the Alaskan malamute a dangerous breed?” Because apparently, there are “dangerous breeds”, and there are “safe breeds“, but that’s for later.)

Fredrik Steen, Sweden’s #1 “dog expert” said the following (translated by me): “We [in Sweden] romanticize dogs way too much. We forget that we’re dealing with predators, we don’t understand that basically all dogs are fully capable of doing this.”

Back to the film.

It cuts back to the original emergency call, with Susan screaming hysterically and crying for an ambulance.

Jeff explains how he was notified that Dax had been "bitten" and was taken to the hospital, and he thought "it's a dog bite, I was bitten by dogs before, how bad could it be?"

He describes that as he arrived at the hospital, he saw Dax being given CPR, and how his face was “just gone, from here - down, was just mangled”, and “there was blood everywhere”. The doctors could not save him.

I am making my own records from the list of “fatal dog attacks in the United States” on Wikipedia, and by March 6th, 2013, I find this, with more details of the attack than in the film:

When babysitter, baby in her arms she went out into her backyard let her two 45 lb. , they became "nippy", jumping up at the pair, so she batted them off. The dogs then attacked, and bit & scratched her, shredding her clothing and knocking her down, causing the boy to hit the ground, whereupon the dogs attacked him. The babysitter tried unsuccessfully to stop the attack, and redirect the dogs' attack onto her.

So I was right in my speculation that the dogs started by jumping and switched from previous play behavior to predatory behavior.

A neighbor heard screams but did nothing as he thought it was kids having a snowfight. She got the child away from the dogs and called 911 but left the baby unattended & totally naked on a cold hardwood floor. The boy was taken by ambulance to the hospital, and by helicopter from the hospital to a medical center later that day, where he was pronounced dead of dog attack. Before the attack, the veterinarian center where they had been spayed, neutered, and otherwise cared for had not seen them as dangerous, but one was described as "standoffish" while at the facility. The owner said she had got the three-year-old dogs as puppies and that they had never shown signs of aggression. After the attack, the dogs were euthanized and tested negative for rabies, and the authorities decided not to press charges against the babysitter.

They decided it was not her fault at all, while I often see these cases (again, in the list of cases in America) ending up charging the owners for “criminally negligent manslaughter” or similar things.

She went off completely free, despite it being her dogs, her responsibility, and she put the child in this situation. Maybe the dogs needed to be killed, I don’t know, but I think it’s a disgusting tendency (also seen in said list), where dogs are killed immediately, with no evaluation, but the owner goes free without any charges.

And as for what the film does, this is a very common tactic. A film brings up a highly emotional, devastating anecdote, and tries to use it as their #1 argument. And the thing is that it works, because humans are emotional beings. We’re not as irrational as dogs, but we’re still mainly guided by emotion.

If the film instead had said “in the years 2000-2015, X number of children were killed by pit bulls”, it wouldn’t at all have had the same effect as this one case did, showing it in such detail, talking about the boy’s personality and showing his pictures and footage. Documentaries on pit bull and “dangerous dogs” almost always do this.

While of course the long list of cases where labs and huskies (or other “non-controversial” breeds) kill children, are completely irrelevant. If they had made a documentary about “killer labs”, and brought up one of these cases in the same way, it probably wouldn’t have had the same effect, because the cultural narrative is that “pit bull = baby eating devil dog”.

The film explains the same thing, how Susan was found “not to be at fault”, and Jeff goes on to say how she didn’t do anything wrong, because “she didn’t abuse ‘em, the dogs were in good health”. This again. I’m finding it very difficult to be respectful right now, because grief doesn’t excuse you saying ridiculous, damaging things on TV.

I’ll repeat myself: You do not need to abuse, starve, beat or train a dog to fight in order for it to attack someone. Doesn’t matter if it’s a pit bull or another breed. All it takes is an owner disrespecting the predatory nature of dogs and being the type of person who would say “I would never in a million years have imagined this!”

If you say that, you are the problem, not the dog. However, pit bulls are large, powerful terriers with a very intact killing instinct towards other animals, and it makes it even more important that they aren’t placed with these idiot owners who think dogs are just living teddy bears/furbabies.

“They were good-natured dogs until the day they weren’t” Jeff says - spoken as a true ignorant person who doesn’t understand animal behavior.

Susan then says "Who wants to admit for even a second that their family pet could kill one of their family members?"

I do. No hesitation.

^ See this guy? This is my dog. Eight and a half year old Mallorcan bulldog, distant cousin to other bulldogs and mastiffs. People who see him would think he’s a pit x rottie mix. He’s bigger than a retriever, and a very serious guard dog. I raised him from a puppy, my first own puppy.

I trained bite inhibition with him from the start. He never bit a human in aggression, in fact after about 10-12 months of age, he never bit me even in play, unless I simply got in the way when he was chewing a stick or something. My mistake, not his. He knows not to ever bite people.

I trust him with my life, as a highly loyal guard dog, who loves us and takes his job very seriously. Does that mean I think he’s a “human”, my “furbaby” and that he could never act irrationally, or out of character? Absolutely not.

When he was living with my man and his family for a while, my sister-in-law had a baby. I told my man to not let Wikus (the dog) in the room with the baby for any reason. I don’t mean “unsupervised”, I mean at all.

He was six years old then, never showed aggression to a child in his life, in fact he lets neighborhood kids hug and pet him, under my strict supervision, and has been around my sister’s young kids, just calmly ignoring them. I trust him with me. I didn’t trust the people he was with, including my dear man, to read him right and be able to predict the situation. Wikus was fine with kids, but he had never seen a baby before, and I wasn’t there to judge the situation. (Also, Wikus was not himself while living there and started attacking cats, after years of being completely fine with cats when with me.)

I’m not going to be so stupid as to think “he’s a nice dog!” and leave it at that. Or feel a need to “prove” how “sweet” he is and let him nuzzle the baby.

So what do I do, briefly, do make sure my dog doesn’t hurt anyone?

It sounds nebulous and abstract, but I “respect him as a dog”. I realize he’s a 70 pound case of muscles and teeth, and could do terrible damage in the right (wrong) circumstances. I realize he has strong protective instincts of the pack and territory, and though he has never shown predatory behavior, he still has the wild dog or wolf inside, buried very deep down.

I obedience- and recall-train. I only have him loose when other people and dogs aren’t around.

If I thought he was dangerous, as a dog that might actually go after another animal or person (and you need to know this about your dog), I wouldn’t have him loose in an unfenced area at all. (This might sound confusing. If I thought he had a 1% chance of attacking someone, I wouldn’t have him off leash. I don’t think there’s a 0.1% chance even, but it still exists in all dogs. Not all dogs are equally dangerous, but the risk is never exactly zero.)

I made sure to socialize him with kids as a puppy, but in later years I’ve sometimes said no to kids asking to pet him, because while I can account for my dog, I can’t account for their behavior, and kids often don’t listen.

I do play tug-o-war with him, especially when he was younger, but it was always strictly structured and I needed him to have an “off-button”. As soon as I say stop, he stops, as soon as I tell him to let go (of the rope or stick), he lets go. If he has an object he wants (anything), he drops it when I ask him to.

Structure the walk. People let their dogs leave the house when over-excited, and that’s the mindset that sets up the rest of the walk.

Build a working relationship with the dog, beyond “he’s my baby and I luv him and he’s so sweet and would never hurt a living soul”, because you don’t know that.

Susan continues; “Who wants to for a single second think that that's possible? Think that that could be a reality? I know I certainly didn't. I never would have imagined in a million years before this that my dog, my pet, would attack me, and kill a child.”

I hate to say it, but she is exactly what is wrong with this breed. People who are this ignorant, this naive, and this careless. And then either they or other people go on to blame the breed.

Years ago on a dog forum, I saw someone say, and this may seem ridiculous to some, but I like it: “Better to think you have a lion on the leash and act accordingly, than to think you have a lamb.”

That is exactly what a lot of dog owners think, perhaps especially pit bull owners. They need to prove to the world that their dog is actually a lamb, and when this woman failed, she blamed the breed, she blamed people like Cesar Millan for speaking highly of the breed, she blamed everyone but herself, because it couldn’t possibly be her mistake!

I often hear the same from people campaigning against exotic pets. They’re a failed owner, and so the animal must be banned. “If I couldn’t do it, and I’m so awesome, then obviously everyone must be at least as crap as I was!” Extremely arrogant and naive.

Listen, mistakes happen. Sometimes tragic, fatal mistakes. I don’t want hate on her, I don’t want her thrown in jail, but I want her and others like her to take some responsibility. Because if they refuse to admit their own mistake, they are doomed to repeat it.

You can never make sure something like this attack never happens again, you can’t insure the world against mistakes and human error, but you can take actions to prevent a lot of them. And the first part of that is educating yourself.

Don’t be like these people.

Part 2

Part 3

[hazinhoodies]

Dog Walkers in the Country (H.O)

Pairing: Harrison x Reader (gender never specified)

A/N: so yeah im so far in Haz’s lane it's not even funny. Based off this video. Also i adore huskies so here, have an alaskan malamute. Enjoy. Or don’t. Do what you want :)

Word count: 716

Warnings: none

It was Friday morning and your boss had decided to let you have the day off. You took full advantage of the vacation day, slept in, made breakfast, and taken your dog out on a walk. You chose to go out into the country, never really having time to on days when you have to work or run errands and the country was certainly a nice change from your normal route.

“Mickey!” you call out to your puppy. She quickly rounds a corner and looks up at you “Wanna go for a walk?” You can’t help but smile at your dogs reaction. The little Alaskan malamute puppy let out a small bark and runs around you before sliding along the hardwood floors towards the front door, tongue hanging out of her mouth the whole time.

It was a short drive from your apartment to the country, Mickey stayed in the passenger seat for most of it, her head out of the window.

After about an hour of playing with her out in the fields, you started to head back, passing the occasional other dog walkers. You’d stop and chat for a moment while Mickey inspected the other dogs, taking no interest in most of them.

There was one dog that Mickey ran up to rather than letting the other dog come up to her. They were about the same size, Mickey slightly smaller than the springer spaniel who ran towards her as well. She was still a puppy but was definitely going to grow a lot more. You tried to call her back but she and the other dog ran off. Keeping an eye on the dogs you walked towards the other owner

“She's not usually like that I’m sorry” You glance at the owner

“Ah don’t worry about it. Monty is like that” He flashes you a small smile

You nod “Springer spaniel?” The man nods “He’s adorable”

“Thanks. He’s about eight months now”

“Really? Mickey is only five months. I’ve had her for about three though”

“Rescue?” He looks over at you “I’m Harrison by the way”

“I’m Y/N. But yeah I went to a shelter with one of my friends and she clung to me while we there. I didn’t plan on adopting but I had to at that point”

“So why name her Mickey?”

“She was named Miska at the shelter. It means little bear or something like that. She responds to both, my friend started calling her Mickey and it stuck”

You watched as Monty chased Mickey around the field “Meeting other dog walkers in the country is always a weird experience. I don’t come out here often but every time I do it’s strange”

“Okay so it’s not just me and Monty” Harrison sounds almost relieved “Every time I see another person it’s always like ‘Springer spaniel? Monty? Wow. Lovely coat, lovely coat’”

You can’t help but laugh at the posh accent he put on “Exactly”

There were a few minutes of silence before Harrison spoke up.

“You know I’ve never really gotten that whole ‘Dogs that look like their owners’ ordeal until now”

You look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion “What do you mean”

“Well” Harrison starts as the dogs continue to chase each other “Mickey is gorgeous” he looks over at you “Just like her owner” he pauses “But like obviously in different ways. Humans and dogs are very different” Harrison rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“That was so bad” You feel your cheeks turn slightly pink as you let out a laugh. Mickey comes over and lies down at your feet, clearly exhausted.

“Looks like you better get going, but I’ve got plenty more of non-dog related pickup lines if you’ll give me your number” He hands his phone to you. Already open to create new contact, your name at the top. “I promise I’m a lot smoother normally” You take his phone and enter your number, handing him back his phone 

“I’ll hold you to that Harrison, Perhaps I’ll see you again?” You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. 

“Perhaps you will” You and Mickey walk back to the car together, as soon as you arrive at your car, your phone goes off in your pocket.

Hey, it's Harrison :)

Taglist: @rainbow-marvel (even though shes on a hiatus i still love her)

some mutuals (really just people i cant believe follow me): @cherryhollands @starkravingparker @notimeforthemessenger

[canineammo]

Canine Bloat/GDV

PART 1 – Bloat/GDV PART 2 – My experience with Bloat PART 3 – Signs & Recognition PART 4 – Emergency Prehospital Care PART 5 – Emergency Plan PART 6 – Prevention PART 7 – Further Information PART 8 – Final Words .

PART 1 – Bloat/GDV

The one everyone fears.

This is my contribution to spreading awareness and education about bloat. There are still many that don’t know of it, or realise how serious it is, it is a life threatening condition that requires aggressive emergency medical stabilization, surgical intervention, and intensive post operative care.

Some of you reading this may have experienced it, some are lucky enough to have not. It’s not talked about much because many that have lost dogs to it find it too upsetting to talk about, which is perfectly understandable, and those that have not experienced it I don’t think can truly comprehend just how terrible it is. If you have experienced it you may or may not learn something, if you have not experienced it and don’t know much about it, you will learn something, something that could save your dog's life. I truly believe that any dog person that loves their dogs and considers them part of the family should be aware of it, and understand how to recognise it, and how to act, bloat kills many dogs around the world every year, it’s more common than you realise. Even if you have owned, bred dogs for many years without experiencing it, don’t be under the illusion that it will not happen to you, there is always a first time, and it’s highly likely that someone reading this will at some point in the future.

I grew up with dogs, they’ve been around all my life, I’ve had my own dogs for over 30 years but, I have only experienced or known people personally that have experienced bloat in their own dogs within the last few years, 15 dogs, 7 survived, 8 did not, the last was a Malamute this past Christmas Eve. I have spoken to many more owners who’s dogs did not survive.

The first I heard of it was 22 years ago when I was researching Malamutes, I read about it in breed books, you know the ones, most of them have a section on health issues that only briefly touches upon it which doesn’t come close, so there’s not much point in me briefly doing the same, that’s not really how people remember, it’s easily forgotten when presented like that, I will go into graphic detail here about this condition and my experience with it because I believe people are more likely to remember, so I have to warn anyone who has experienced it, you may find this upsetting.

Not long ago I was told by a friend “bloat is a horrific way to lose a dog", she was right, I can’t think of another word to describe it, “Horrific”.

What is Bloat?

Bloat is used as a slang term for GDV (gastric dilatation volvulus) or expansion and twisting of the stomach. Medical bloat (GD (gastric dilatation)) on it’s own is when the stomach fills with gas or food and distends without the twist, it can sometimes correct itself like if the dog burps, it can still be critical but, without an underlying medical cause it’s not as common. GDV, aka torsion, is when the stomach expands and twists on itself, it is one of the most serious non traumatic medical emergencies in dogs, without surgery is always fatal, as the stomach is twisted there is nowhere for the gas to escape so the stomach keeps expanding.

In both GD and GDV, dilatation of the stomach results in compression of major blood vessels in the abdomen with impaired venous return to the heart and results in shock.

I will use the term Bloat to describe GDV, as that is what everyone knows it as.

Bloat can build up slowly over a few hours or kill in a very short time. The stomach can bloat then twist, or it can twist first then bloat. They do not know what causes it and it is impossible to predict, there are risk factors and recommendations which are:

Don’t feed one large meal a day, split it into 2 or more smaller meals.

Restrict exercise for 2hrs before and after meals (of questionable benefit and research evidence is scant). One of the theories on this is when the stomach has some weight in it from food (or water) it can then act like a pendulum, as the dog runs about it can flip the stomach over.

They used to recommend feeding with raised bowls so the dog takes in less air when they eat, now they recommend not to feed with raised bowls.

They think dogs on the much slimmer/leaner side are more prone, theory behind this is those dogs have less fat in the abdominal cavity so there is more room inside the abdomen for the stomach to turn.

.

The Facts:

• Dogs that eat kibble bloat • Dogs that eat raw bloat • Dogs with only water in their stomach bloat • Dogs with an empty stomach bloat • Dogs that exercise soon after eating bloat • Dogs that exercise hours after eating bloat • Dogs that eat from raised bowls bloat • Dogs that eat from a bowl on the floor bloat • Dogs that have bloated are at a much higher risk of bloating again • There is no specific diet which prevents bloat despite what you may be told.

It usually affects larger deep chested breeds (or those with a higher width to depth ratio of the chest) from around age 7 onwards, though it can affect any breed at any age, I’ve known of dogs 3 years old and younger to suffer bloat, even some smaller breeds.

Out of the many studies and research done nothing has proved a definitive cause, the only thing they are pretty sure of is that stress may be a major factor as its seen a lot in military working dogs, so much so that many US MWDs are given a prophylactic gastropexy.

.

Signs and symptoms:

The first signs can be very subtle and hard to notice…

• your dog may just seem not his/her usual self • may become restless, they may try to lay down but can’t get comfortable • pacing about • excessive panting • drooling, excessive salivation • retching or trying to vomit but nothing comes up, sometimes just a white froth • enlarged abdomen, may look like a basketball behind the ribs • expansion of the rib cage • whining or vocalizing as bloat is extremely painful • weakness • difficulty breathing • dark red gums as shock starts to set in, pale gums as shock advances

your dog may have any combination of these signs or early on just one, this can all build up slowly or advance very fast, once it starts advancing your dog doesn’t have long, I cannot stress enough that you need to get to a vet fast, minutes count. If your vet is open ring them to tell them your dog is bloating and you’re on your way so they can get ready, don’t waste time discussing symptoms on the phone just go, if it’s out of hours you will obviously need to ring first so the vet can meet you at the surgery unless you're lucky enough to live close to a veterinary hospital where a vet is on site 24/7, no good vet will question you or judge you if you are wrong, they will understand, if they don’t, get a different vet, it’s better to get to the vet and be wrong than be right and waste time your dog doesn’t have.

If your dog is lucky enough to get to a vet in time and survive surgery, the next few days can be critical, bloat does not affect just the stomach, depending how advanced it gets and how long for can cause a massive amount of complications from tissue death and organ failure as the expanded stomach cuts of blood supply back to the heart and other organs, as the blood circulation stops, toxins start to build up in the blood stream, and then sepsis, it truly is horrific.

.

Treatment:

Dogs will present to the vet in various degrees of stability, from critical to serious but stable, they will typically be in some degree of cardiovascular shock which will be treated with fluids and oxygen, they will be treated aggressively with pain medication, the vet may attempt to deflate the stomach via orogastric tube or needle decompression, x-rays and bloodwork taken then into surgery, part of the stomach may need to be removed and possibly the spleen. If there is too much damage then the dog will need to be pts. If the dog is able to be saved the stomach will be fixed to the abdominal wall to prevent recurrence, a procedure called gastropexy, but this does not stop a simple bloat or distention of the stomach.

.

First Aid for bloat:

I am not a medical professional, I've just had some canine first aid training, learned from some great professionals and my own experience with bloat in my own dog.

It is important to minimize additional stress and unnecessary movement, avoid abdominal pressure as increased pressure on the distended stomach will lead to more pain and can increase the risk of it rupturing if severely compromised.

If your dog doesn’t have time to get to a vet there is something you can do to buy some time if you can get the training, I spoke to my vet after someone close to me lost her dog to bloat, as he didn’t even make it to the van, I asked if there was anything I could do in that situation, she said there is but there is a risk and she offered to show me, and I’m very grateful to her for that, it’s called a gastric needle decompression or gastric trocarization, it involves inserting a large bore hypodermic needle through your dog’s skin and into your dog’s stomach to release some of the gas and reduce pressure, it does carry risks and should be performed by a vet or other medical professional along with fluids to treat the shock but like my vet said to me, “if your're not going to make it to a vet in time you might as well try".

.

Other options for First Aid:

• Orogastric tube, or tubing. I’ve heard that some carry these in a bloat kit for emergency, I wouldn’t even think about attempting it in an un-sedated dog, I have no experience with it so will say no more, even some vets will choose to trocarize first.

• Simethicone/Gas-X, this is the most common recommendation by pet owners which is quite worrying being as they never mention the risks involved, some will say it will save your dog like its a wonder treatment, some will say it saved their dog, you might possibly be able to give your dog something early on, you might not, never force it, however its not without risk and some don't even realise.

Whatever you are told, understand there is no wonder treatment you can give unfortunately, but most importantly don't let anything you read or learn from anyone give you a false sense of security in dealing with bloat, people do mean well, and want to help, some advice is good, some not so good but with the best intention, so before you do anything understand the bloat signs, they are not always obvious, understand how to read your dog, vital signs, shock signs etc, when it might be possible to do something, when you should absolutely not, if the dog is retching/dry heaving and so nothing is able to come up then nothing is able to go down, if you then give something it might go down but it won't reach the stomach where you want it, it will sit in the dog's esophagus, if they then bring it back up which they very likely will there is then a very real risk of aspiration which will make a really bad situation a whole lot worse, which can actually kill the dog in itself.

So I'm not telling anyone what they should do, just to understand the risks aswell as the possible benefits, so you can weigh up the situation at hand and ask yourself if the benefit outweighs the risk? Or would time better be spent getting to the vet? There is no easy answer because every emergency is different, just understand when to do something and when you should absolutely not do something. Whatever you do or don't do, you have to live with the outcome.

Not one of the emergency and critical care vets or field medics who have experience of addressing bloat in the field that I have spoken to recommend tubing or giving anything orally, the only recommendation by them if warranted and if you are trained is needle decompression (see part 4).

In any type of first aid whether canine or human, there is no substitute for professional training, first aid measures to address bloat are advanced and require decompression of the stomach and treatment for shock, sometimes treatment needs to be aggressive to save a life.

All these options are not without risk and should really only be performed by a medical professional but you still need to get the dog to the vet and give them a viable patient to save, you may be on your own and left with a tough choice only you can make armed with the knowledge you have. Just learn as much as you can so you are as prepared as you can be. If you are interested in learning needle decompression then speak to your vet for training, you really need hands on training with a vet to do this.

.

PART 2 – My experience with Bloat

I will now describe my experience of bloat in my own dog Cooper, he was 10 years old, I’ll say up front Cooper didn’t actually die from bloat, he died from a blood clot on his lung caused by an infection, the bloat was secondary, but it wasn’t that simple, he was very unlucky in the fact he suffered two very serious conditions at the same time, both emergencies that on their own are often fatal so his chance of survival was slim to none, but I gave him the best chance I could, if you knew Cooper well you might not want to read this.

He started coughing one evening which got worse by the morning so I took him to the vet, I recorded him coughing on my phone to show the vet, she looked and said it looked like classic kennel cough, she gave him a thorough check over and everything was ok, she said there were other possible causes but we will try him on antibiotics and take it from there, he initially got worse but after a few days improved, after 9 days on the Friday he was pretty much back to normal, just a couple of slight coughs, he had about 4 vet visits in this time, Saturday morning he was symptom free and running around the garden, vet check up late morning and everything was good. I didn’t walk him for the entire 10 days as kennel cough affects the throat aswell and if he pulled on lead would make it worse, but I now thought I’d take him for a short walk, he got very excited and started pulling, I crossed the road outside my house and he started coughing so I took him straight back, wasn’t gone for more than 3mins. I kept a close eye on him but the cough was no different from the previous 10 days at this point so I thought he just irritated his throat, after an hour I gave him some food to see if that would settle him, this was probably the biggest mistake in hindsight, but at this point I had no idea he was suffering a blood clot on his lung, after a couple of hours the cough started getting worse and his gum colour was a bit off, slightly pale, his tongue was a little puffy, he was panting and he didn’t seem right so I called the emergency vet around 6pm and said I need to bring him down, while on the phone I was watching him, he tried to lay down but I could see he was uncomfortable and got back up, the vet said she’d meet me in 15 mins, at no point did I observe him retching which is one of the main signs of bloat, he walked up into the back of the van by himself no problem and sat down, I then left, by the time I was about 1 minute from the clinic he started crying (anyone who really knows dogs knows they can put up with a lot of pain before they cry about it, unlike us humans), we arrived at the clinic about 10 mins after leaving, I got him out of the van and my heart sank, I knew straight away he was in a full on serious bloat, his body was huge, he had a huge expansion of his rib cage, his mouth was clenched shut (obviously due to the severe pain he was in), he was drooling heavily, his gums were dark red as shock was starting to set in and he was struggling to breath through his nose (as the stomach expands it puts pressure on the diaphragm so the lungs can’t inflate), he was a mess, to top it off the vet wasn’t there yet, I rang her while we were standing about 10 feet from the door but the phone signal was rubbish and so kept getting cut off, after the 4th attempt I looked him closely in the face, now we all know what physical pain is, its something we feel, not many of us experience true unimaginable pain but when I looked my boy in the face I see what that pain looks like! So I grabbed a decompression needle from the first aid kit, found the landmarks, and pushed it into his stomach, once through his skin I could feel his stomach, it literally felt like a balloon so I pushed and he screamed, within a couple of mins he started to improve, his mouth was open and he was panting, then the vet arrived, I told her what I’d done and we got him in, she listened to his heart but couldn’t hear the right side, she said he’d thrown a blood clot to his lung which would have been caused by the kennel cough or whatever infection he'd been fighting and the bloat was secondary, he then collapsed and died.

I cannot begin to explain what I felt when I walked out leaving my boy lying on the floor. It is soul destroying. I can only assume the coughing, which got worse after feeding him caused his stomach to torsion.

I am not a writer, this is the best I can do to explain it, it is not easy to write, I describe bloat and my experience in graphic detail because it is much more likely for people to remember than simply reading a little about it in a breed book etc, I don’t mind talking about it now, if it means it may save another dog from a horrific death, then it is worth it.

Bloat is something to fear and many do, especially those with experience, but try not to let it scare you so much that you don’t learn about it, how to recognise it, and how to deal with it, because one day you may wake up not knowing what is about to unfold, and the knowledge you gain is ultimately what could save your dogs life.

Would Cooper have survived had he not suffered the blood clot?

I don’t know, but I gave him the best chance I could, all because I learnt about it before hand, and I’m so grateful to my vet for showing me what to do, as I couldn’t imagine watching my boy die in front of me without at least trying to help him, these dogs give us so much and we owe it to them to be there for them, when they are in pain and scared, it’s us they will look to when they need help.

Cooper 2008-2018 x

.

PART 3 – Signs & Recognition

The most important part, the signs and recognising it!

There seems to be some confusion in posts I read about this so this is what I have learnt from professionals and my own experience….

We often hear "catch it early and get to a vet fast", which ofcourse is correct but, its not always so simple. In an ideal world we would catch it early but rarely is everyone so lucky. Many will know the common signs which are passed around to make everyone aware but, its very important to note the common signs are not always present early on, or even at all, one reason it can be easily missed and one reason which makes it so dangerous. The most common sign everyone knows as retching or unproductive vomiting which would clearly indicate bloat as a major possibility to many of us is not always present, so do not rely on it being present to indicate a bloat. Pale MMs and slow CRT are not always an early sign of shock, it can be the opposite, early (acute compensatory) shock can show as brick red gums (hyperemic) with a fast CRT, before progressing to the next (early decompensatory) stage of shock, which will then show as pale MMs and slow CRT, by then its very serious. The abdominal swelling behind the ribs is also not always present, that is a common sign in less fit dogs, well conditioned dogs such as sporting or working dogs, or if you do any fitness with your pet, can have a good strong abdominal core which can hold the stomach up under the rib cage, then when the stomach expands will show as distention in the rib cage with a more barrel like shape to the whole body. Tripod stance, legs apart to take pressure off the abdomen. A rapid thready pulse. Shallow, rapid breathing as the stomach puts pressure on the diaghram and lungs, preventing the lungs from inflating. The most common earliest sign is often your dog just not seeming himself, unable to get comfortable, just keep a close watch, palpate the abdomen, it should feel soft, you should be able to get your fingers partially up under the ribs, know what feels normal for YOUR dog. If you have any doubt at all at anytime, just go to a Vet, in some cases it can and does progress very fast, many think it builds up slowly over a few hours, it can, but not always, it can in some cases progress and kill in less than 30 mins, GDV kills in 2 ways, rapid or slow, rapid is due to obstructive shock and can progress fast!

Understand what is normal for YOUR dog, and the signs of GDV, the signs are not always clear, they are never the same for every dog.

.

PART 4 – Emergency Prehospital Care

This is a serious, but important topic, and not something you will find in a typical canine first aid course for obvious reasons. Emergency Prehospital Care for GDV involves decompression of the stomach, fluid therapy and oxygen if you have that capability but that is beyond the scope of most of us, you can learn needle decompression, the challenge may be finding a professional to teach you, some will not agree with me sharing it here, some vets are not willing to teach it because its considered too invasive, some vets are willing, I have included it here just for information because the problem with not giving people information even though its well mean't, is they then turn to the internet or other sources, and I know some pet owners are teaching this and tubing in some breed club seminars, just be carefull where you learn anything from, there is nothing here I have learnt from a pet owner, only vets/medics.

Personally I believe if someone is responsible enough to seek training from a professional then it should be available in this case, but everyone’s experience is different so they will have differing opinions. Just ask those that have lost dogs to bloat without even making it to a vet.

I had to decompress my own dog (I had training from my vet) as stated earlier, I also got criticised by 2 people for doing it, one of them was a canine first aid instructor who's course I attended, funnily enough she admitted she'd never actually seen bloat in a dog, let alone had to deal with it. The other was a pet owner. Every veterinary professional I've spoken to since about it including my own vet, doesn't have a problem, why? Because they understand what it might take to save a life, though I do speak to the ones who teach this stuff. I had a good conversation about my experience with a vet I did some first aid training with, she teaches it to clients who want to learn, she did also say that some of her colleagues wouldn't feel comfortable teaching it to their clients, "it is a last resort" she said.

K9TCCC/TECC, First Aid, Prehospital Care, whatever you want to call it, is a hot topic at the moment, there are a few qualified individuals/companies running training, sharing their knowledge to help save lives, there are some great, experienced professionals in the US doing great things for Working Dogs at the moment, there are also those that don't have experience of what they are teaching, one thing those with experience say is seek knowledge and training from those that have experience, and have actually done what they teach. So if you do any type of training, don't be frightened to ask what experience the instructor has, and have they actually done what they teach? I have found those who have, who understand, are only too happy to share their knowledge, and answer questions, I've spoken to a few in the Working Dog community and learned a lot from them and the information they share, they are good people doing great things for dogs.

Understand you may never need to do this, many dogs do survive bloat, but many also do not, but if this article encourages people to learn more, may be speak to their vet about it, or even save one life, then it's worth it.

I am not a medical professional, this is just what I have learnt, some of the information comes from my own vet and I’ve shared other sources in part 7.

I had a conversation with my own vet a few months after someone close to me lost her dog to bloat, as he didn’t even make it to the van, let alone the vet. I asked my vet if there is anything I could do in that situation? If I couldn’t get to a vet in time? She said “well there is, but it does have risks". Then she said two things that stuck with me word for word, to quote her “I have clients with Great Danes that regularly bloat, I show them what to do and send them away with needles, I can show you if you like"…. “if you’re not going to make it to a vet in time, you might as well try".

In the US, VetCOT (Veterinary Committee on Trauma) published their “Best Practice Recommendations for Prehospital Veterinary Care of Dogs and Cats” in 2016, in each section of that paper on each condition it gives separate recommendations for responders with minimal to no medical training, and medics, in the section on GDV (bloat), it recommends for both medics and non medics (if trained) in the setting of delayed veterinary care to perform gastric needle decompression (trocarization).

To quote from that same section “Field or home decompression of bloat has been advised for many years, trocarization of the stomach is a reasonable intervention in the field in a dog in extremis".

These 3 quotes put into perspective just how serious bloat is.

All dog first aid courses cover bloat in the sense they teach you how to recognise it, signs and symptoms, risk factors, then once you realise or suspect your dog is bloating to take them straight to a vet, which is absolutely correct, the only problem with that is it assumes you catch it early and are able to get to a vet in time before the damage is done.

Unfortunately its not always that simple, many dogs do get to a vet in time and survive, many don’t, there are many factors involved, we can’t all be with our dogs every minute of the day, your dog may be kenneled or you may be out and come home to find your dog bloating, you may come downstairs in the middle of the night to find your dog bloating, get them out of the car after a trip out and they are bloating, then there is the trip to the vet, time of day, road/weather conditions, distance to vet, traffic, it can be a long drive, all can have an effect, plus bloat doesn’t always build up slowly over a few hours, it can kill very fast, then if you do get to the vet with your dog still alive that is no guarantee they will survive.

The biggest factor which determines whether a dog suffering bloat will survive is not getting to the vet, it's the quicker the dog receives treatment, that is someone actively treating the dog, by giving fluids to raise the blood pressure and decompression of the stomach to take the pressure off the vital blood vessels trying to carry blood back to the heart, whether the vet does it or someone else, the timing is critical, once blood flow is cut off to parts of the body tissues, and toxins start to build up, your dog only has minutes before irreversible damage is done. Circulatory shock is the immediate life threat. I also had a conversation with a veterinary technician regarding field treatment of bloat, and to quote her “Your first field treatment of a GDV is a gastric decompression to return blood flow back to the heart which returns oxygen to the vital organs including the brain. Time is tissue".

Decompression is not a cure, the dog will need surgery, but it can buy your dog valuable time, and it can be done as many times as you need to on the way to the vet. There are several cases of military dogs bloating hours from a vet, being repeatedly decompressed on their way to the vet.

There is an excellent paper written by Dr. Lee Palmer (a military veterinarian) who is also one of the leads of the K9TECC (tactical emergency casualty care) working group, titled “Prehospital Care of Canine Gastric Dilatation Volvulous”, to quote from his paper “Gastric Needle Decompression is a rather simple procedure easily learned by anyone. Despite its simplicity, GNDC does carry some inherent risks; therefore only those properly trained in the procedure should perform it".

Needle Decompression should ideally be performed along with IV fluid resuscitation to treat shock but that is not always available in the field and is beyond the scope of most of us, in that case needle decompression is still warranted.

.

Training:

Learning how to do it. You need hands on training with a professional to do it.

In the US there are some very reputable companies teaching canine emergency field care such as www.vettacgroup.com , www.k9medic.com , www.dustoffk9.com , all of which cover GDV, they primarily teach to working dog handlers and emergency medicine providers but do run some training for active pet owners, contact them for more information, they are a great bunch of professionals doing great things for dogs.

In the UK you need to speak with your vet.

Needle Decompression can be done in a conscious or unconscious dog with a 14g 3¼ inch over the needle catheter.

Some say do it on the right side to avoid the spleen which naturally resides on the left side, if you hit the spleen it will bleed like crazy but it’s not usually life threatening, in reality when the stomach twists the spleen can be anywhere as its attached to the stomach, so you can do it on either side, to reduce the risk of hitting the spleen percuss, or tap the distended abdomen with your fingers while listening with a stethoscope or your ear against the abdomen, when the abdomen is distended and taut it will sound like a drum if the gas pocket is behind and loudest where it's closer to the abdominal wall, if it’s more of a dull sound its likely the spleen maybe there, so check the other side, this is usually just behind the last rib at the most distended point.

Don’t delay transport, transport immediately and treat en-route to the vet, pull over, do it, then get going, if it’s a long drive and you need to, pull over and do it again. If successful you should see a rapid Improvement.

When you get to the vet, make sure you tell them you’ve done it whether successful or not, how many times, and where, they need to know.

RISKS:

Hitting the spleen

It not being bloat and hitting the bowel. Both these injuries are usually well tolerated.

Reperfusion Injury

Releasing toxins if it's gone on for too long.

Complications with trocarizing are rare if performed by someone trained in the procedure. The benefits out way any risks if you're not going to make it to a vet in time.

IMPORTANT: you should only do this if you have hands-on training in distinguishing bloat from other medical conditions, proper anatomical landmarks, and handling the needle.

You could say it’s similar to a cardiac arrest and performing CPR, in the sense that time may not be on the patients side, and to quote one trauma vet “if it needs doing, then it needs doing”.

Bloat is a Killer…. “if you’re not going to make it to a vet in time, you might as well try".

It’s something to consider.

.

PART 5 – Emergency Plan

Do you have an emergency plan for your dog?

I see posts on FB of dog owners asking if anyone knows of an emergency vet, and they are asking when its an emergency, I'm not criticising, some people don't realise or just don't think about this because they've never had a real emergency before, so….

You may know how to spot it, and act quickly, but do you have an emergency plan?

• Do you know your vet's out of hours emergency procedure? • Does your vet have their own out of hours emergency service or do they subscribe to an out of hours service elsewhere? • Do you have a backup vet if you can't get hold of your usual vet? That's happened to me once. • Not all vets and clinics are capable of dealing with a major condition or trauma, the closest may not be the best choice, check! • Even if your vet can deal with your emergency, are they willing and able to keep your sick dog in over night after treatment or do you need to transport your dog to another vet to stay in over night for monitoring? Yes, that does happen! • If you are on holiday with your dog do you know where the nearest suitable emergency vet is located?

Remember, time is against you, every minute counts, all too often I hear people say "catch it early, get to a vet fast"…. "you may have a couple of hours", you may, but not always, no matter how early you catch it! And not just in the case of bloat.

Something to think about, especially at this time with a shortage of vets.

.

PART 6 – Prevention

The only prevention tactic with a very high success rate is a prophylactic Gastropexy, it does not prevent a simple bloat but stops the stomach rotating.

Some owners will tell you it doesn't work because they had their dog gastropexied and the dog still bloated, in some cases died, nothing is 100% guaranteed, however it does have a very high success rate in the prevention of GDV if it is performed correctly. It's more commonly done at the time of the emergency surgery when treating a dog suffering a GDV, it seems more popular as a preventative measure in the US than here in the UK, I don't know about other countries. Its commonly done in bitches at the same time as a spay.

The goal of a gastropexy is to create a permanent adhesion between the gastric wall and the abdominal wall. Ideally, a gastropexy should create a strong adherence, have minimal complications, not affect the stomach's natural orientation or markedly alter gastric outflow, and require minimal postoperative management. Gastropexy is usually performed by attaching the pyloric antrum to the right abdominal wall to prevent further gastric rotation.

There are several types of gastropexies, including incorporating, tube, circumcostal, belt-loop, laparoscopic-assisted, and incisional. No controlled studies have compared adhesion strength, clinical outcome, and physiologic impact of all the gastropexy techniques, so the choice of procedure is often based on the veterinarian's preference.

The US military gastropexy all DoD Working Dogs before they enter training and they have an extremely high success rate, they have gone from losing about 10% per year to GDV to losses of 0.1%.

Other prevention strategies such as limiting exercise before and after feeding, restricting water after feeding and feeding certain diets have no scientific evidence that they work. Some will tell you that raw fed dogs don’t bloat and that is simply not true, all the dogs I’ve known that bloated were all fed either kibble or raw. I can say that I’ve known people personaly who follow these strategies religiously and still have their dog bloat, some don’t have a dog bloat and so they think they work, I know people who limit exercise and don’t have a dog bloat and some do, I’ve known people who have for many years given their dogs light exercise such as a walk close after feeding and never had a dog bloat, you have to do what you think is right for your dog, just understand nothing is guaranteed to prevent bloat so don’t let anything you are told or read give you a false sense of security.

.

PART 7 – Further Information:

Veterinary Tactical Group's GDV Webinar presented by Dr. Janice Baker, DVM. An excellent 1hr 30min presentation covering the facts, risk factors, signs & recognition, field treatment and prevention. https://veterinary-tactical-group.square.site/product/2020-gastric-dilation-volvulus-a-working-dog-dilemma/333?cs=true

Prehospital Care of Canine Gastric Dilatation and Volvulous by Dr. Lee Palmer, DVM. https://www.jsomonline.org/jsomstorefront/index.php?rt=product/product&keyword=Canine&category_id=0&product_id=2542

VetCOT's Best Practice Recommendations for Prehospital Veterinary Care of Dogs and Cats: The objective of these guidelines were to examine available evidence on prehospital care in human and veterinary trauma and emergency medicine and develop best practice guidelines for use by both paramedical and nonparamedical personnel in the approach to the prehospital care of dogs and cats. Section 12: GDV, is on page 213. http://users.neo.registeredsite.com/1/2/1/13151121/assets/Best_Recommendations_for_Prehospital_Veterinary_Care_of_Dogs_and_Cats.pdf

Clinical Management of Military Working Dogs by Joint Trauma System: There is a brief but informative 6min section on GDV in this video presentation from the Joint Trauma System's continuing education conference Clinical Management of Military Working Dog's Presentation for human HCP's. Presented by Dr. Michael Lagutchik, a civilian Veterinarian from the Military Working Dog centre at Lackland, USA. https://deployedmedicine.com/content/1265

Gastric Dilatation And Volvulus In Working Dogs: World Small Animal Veterinary Association World Congress Proceedings, 2013 Kate Hill Centre for Service and Working Dog Health, Institute of Veterinary, Animal and Biomedical Sciences, Massey University, Palmerston North, New Zealand https://www.vin.com/apputil/content/defaultadv1.aspx?pId=11372&catId=35321&id=5709943

Bloat – What You Know Can Save Your Dog's Life by Dr. Alexis Newman, DVM https://issuu.com/workingdogmagazine/docs/vetcheck_1acd1b26c1c6ce

Bloating Akita A video showing a dog in the middle to late middle stages of bloat. Used by some as a training video, some may find it a difficult watch. This dog, Roscoe, was saved. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=U1WrT2719yo&feature=youtu.be

Another video example of a dog bloating, it doesn't look as serious as the previous example but this dog is in a serious condition, apart from his stomach distension he looks pretty good in himself while at the vet waiting to go to the ER, those who might not have a good understanding of bloat may be tempted to wait and see. This video along with the previous shows the variation in how bloat can present, it is never the same for every dog, know what is normal for YOUR dog. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=37Xs10PQEmk&feature=youtu.be

A good visual presentation of what GDV/Bloat is, and does, if you are not familiar, and may help you understand why it may present with some of the signs & symptoms which it sometimes does. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rf3bZUpMlN8&feature=youtu.be

Needle Decompression Here is a video of a vet demonstrating needle decompression, albeit in a clinic setting. https://www.atdove.org/video/gdv-gastric-trocarization

FREE Webinar – BLOAT: What Every Dog Owner Needs to Know. Published 2014 Presented by Dr. Elizabeth Rozanski DVM - a board-certified specialist in emergency and critical care medicine. http://www.vetvine.com/article/164/bl

FREE Webinar – GDV: What we know, and what we wish we knew. Published 2021 The 2nd Webinar Presented by Dr. Elizabeth Rozanski DVM In this webinar Dr. Rozanski provides updates on our current knowledge and understanding about GDV in dogs. Her discussion includes: •What is known about the genetic aspects of GDV •The pathophysiology and treatment of GDV •Why some dogs who develop GDV do poorly •Preventative measures including surgical gastropexy •Our current challenges with GDV in dogs, ongoing research efforts, and possible targets Running time: 57 minutes followed by 7 minutes of Q&A https://www.vetvine.com/article/704/gdv-what-we-know-and-what-we-wish-we-knew#global_content

.

PART 8 – Final Words

Many have experienced bloat, many have lost dogs to bloat, some never even made it to the vet, some dogs died shortly after arriving at the vet.

Some dog owners and vet professionals may not agree with everything here, some vet professionals don’t even agree with each other.

There is a lot of misinformation out there on bloat, I have tried to give an honest picture of this condition with accurate information, a condition which takes the lives of many dogs in a horrific way, I am not a medical professional, this is just what I have learnt from my own experience and knowledgeable professionals who have real world experience with this.

With bloat I have learnt there are 2 types of people, those that can't or don't want to face it or even talk about (which is understandable), and those like me that want to learn everything they can incase they have to deal with it again and give their dog the best chance of survival, unfortunately for some, it happens more than once.

I was never satisfied with the only choice available to me being to put my dog in the car and drive to the vet, depending on the degree of bloat and distance/time to the vet that can be a roll of the dice, a 50/50 chance for the dog or less, to me that is not good enough, granted some wouldn't be able to put a needle in their own dog, I know I've done it and it's not easy, well not mentally, I had to look my dog in the face, see the pain in his face and watch him struggling to breath, there was no one else but me to help him and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I'm afraid life can be cruel, and sometimes you need to take aggressive measures to save a life.

I can guarantee 3 things if you ever experience bloat in your own dog, you will be scared, you will pray you make it to a vet in time and, no matter what the outcome, you will never forget.

Many of the sources of information I mention in this article are professionals that have experience with bloat and prehospital care of bloat (clinical and prehospital care are not the same, a more clinical aspect of care doesn’t always work in emergency field care), they know what they are talking about.

If you are new to this hopefully this will help or at least give you a starting point but as they say “hope is not a good plan” and the last thing you will want to be in a bad situation with your dog is helpless, so don’t be, the knowledge you gain is ultimately what can save your dog's life, along with your Mindset and Training, staying calm so you can make good decisions quickly.

For the dogs 🐾

[darkwood-sleddog]

Like I’m sorry but if you’re going to yell out once that you’re passing somebody who is potentially a novice or have novice dogs and you have both an offleash dog and a hitched up dog passing at high speed not slowing down at all to pass you are the RUDE one in the situation.

[rofics]

Come Together pt. 1

Bts mafia au mixed with hybrid reader! Will feature other groups! Plus hybrid friend.

Warnings: cursing, violence, death (mentions). Really just be careful if you're sensitive to certain topics.

http://rofics.tumblr.com/post/171043039807/come-together-pt-2-bts-gang-au-x-hybrid-reader-and

My family used to rule the city, alongside our allied family. A gang combination that none could destroy, until humans rose up in power more. They no longer respected us hybrids, so our family was overthrown, human gangs taking us out like we were nothing. I knew my family wouldn't come out alive so I went into hiding with my friend, nobody would be able to find us. We would continue our families names, never forgetting the gang that tore us down.

*Present day*

My friend Sacha and I were out and about, our ears and tails hidden in a society that didn't respect hybrids. Our families left us a lot of money behind so we could live comfortably and stay low. Sacha is a black-tailed jackrabbit. Long, brown ears with black lining stand tall on her head, long legs for running and jumping, with a puffy black tail. Her eyes and hair are a light brown color. I, Y/N am an red Alaskan Malamute. My ears are short points on my head with copper red lining, and a fluffy, long, white curled tail. My eyes were blue, a rarity in Malamutes but I never grew out of them like pups normally do. However, in order to look normal in society I wore dark brown contacts when outside.

We didn't really have a plan today, just to stop by the different shops around the neighborhood. There was no need to drive as we've cramped up inside and the weather was nice, not warm but not cold. We were about to walk into a local bookstore but our ears picked up on something, struggling? We looked at each other, debating on what to do but I shrugged and marched towards the sounds, Sacha trailing behind. Malamutes were very stubborn and in charge so my hare friend often went with my antics. We rounded the store and discovered the sounds were coming from the back. We crept along the old brick wall, not wanting to be heard. I peered from my hiding spot and saw a big burly man tossing around a tall, slender male. The smaller male was fighting back but couldn't deal with the others burliness, as this guy was pure muscle.

"Y/N don't" Sacha warned, tone in a low whisper as a growl threatened to slip out of my mouth. I stare at her and let out a small whine, I didn't like seeing people getting hurt, it made my blood boil. I shrug her slender hand off of my shoulder and walk out from my spot, picking up a rock and aiming it at the burly man's head. It hit him right on his temple and he turned to look at me, the smaller male doing the same.

"Whatcha doing shit head? It's not cool to pick on someone smaller than you" I say, kicking at the ground.

"What's it to ya punk?" He growls and I walk towards them slowly. From the sides Sacha has her phone in hand, ready to call for help. Her ears pick up on footsteps and panic rises withing her, she hops out next to me and I side eye her.

"Oh look another one! And it's not even my birthday!" The man bellows, throwing the smaller male to the ground and marches to us. I push Sacha to the side and block this dirt bags punch, elbowing him back. He takes another swing but I duck and kick at his knee full force, he kneels down with a groan so I bring his face in to my knee. There's a sickening crack as I push him back but he gets up, geez this dude was strong. He reaches out to me but rips my beanie off, exposing my ears. I growl and snap his hand back, kicking at the same knee. He buckles again so I take the chance to put my weight into one punch and knock his ass out on the gravel. I kick his side for good measure before snatching my hat back from the ground. Sacha was checking over the other guy during my fight so I look over towards them

"You okay?" I question but I see Sacha's eyes shift so I whip around and am greeted by 6 other males. I take a step back, towards Sacha and the unknown male but he speaks.

"Don't worry, this person helped me. These two aren't a threat" he says, getting up with Sacha's help. He limps over to the group as we stand in front of them awkwardly

"Well, we'll take our leave now" I murmur awkwardly and take a step forward but one holds out a hand in a stopping motion. I eye him, he's in a nice looking suit and had a certain vibe..the leader.

"I'd like to thank you, for helping out my member. I'm RM,leader of the gang Bangtan" he introduces and I cease my glare. He must be second generation, first generation Bangtan was a known ally to our parents gangs.

"It's no problem RM, your parents helped ours out a lot before the incident" I reply which earns an elbow from Sacha. RM stares at me in confusion as I let out a sigh

"My last name is L/N and her last name is Bayle, our families were once very strong gangs before they were taken out" I explain and can see something click in his brain

"So you're the two I've heard about, my father will be happy to know that you're alive and well. Now I definitely would like to thank you. What are your names?" He asks kindly

"Im Y/N, and this is Sacha" I introduce

"Would you two like to discuss something in a more private place?" RM questions and I shoot a glance to Sacha, she nods and replies

"Sure" she chimes.

"Firstly, I want to know everyone elses names before I leave with you" I demand

"Of course, this is Jin, my second in command. Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook, and the one you helped is Taehyung" RM points to each person and I nod at them with a small smile while Sacha gives a curt wave. We walk behind the group, not knowing what we'd need to talk about.

"Are you sure this is okay? We haven't heard from Bangtan in years, should we trust them?" Sacha whispers and I give another shrug

"We don't have a choice, they can't be that bad, Uncle Kim was always kind to us when we were small so why shouldn't we trust his son? Besides, what would they gain from us? Ears and tails?" I mutter, adding the last part sarcastically. Sacha huffs at me, ears twitching under her thick hat. We walk to a small cafe, tucked away in a short alley. I hesitate by the entrance, knowing to never trust alleys with strangers.

"I know it's sketchy but we're not going to do anything to you" Jin pipes up, offering a soft smile. I let out a breath and follow the seven men in, Sacha right behind me. The cafe is quiet with no customers, RM gestures to a long table so we sit with the other members taking their spots.

"I asked you two here to see if you'd be interested in working for us. That guy was from a main rival gang of ours, one of their best fighters and you took him out easily. Gang life comes with a lot of enemies and we can't always look out for each other. My proposition would be for you to be our bodyguards since we haven't found any worthy candidates." RM explains from the head of the table. I look at him with an eyebrow raised

"Are you asking us since you know we're hybrids because of our families?" Sacha questions in agitation and I click my tongue, nodding in agreement.

"Well, this isn't necessarily my request...contrary to what you think my father has kept eyes on you ever since he found out you two were alive. He knows how skilled your parents were and you learned from the best. He'd rather trust you than some random thugs who would demand a fortune for this job" he explains

"Oh so you're saying we're cheap and owe you guys because of our family ties" Sacha retors and I snort, stifling a grin.

"That's not what we're trying to say, but rather that we know you two are extremely capable of this job and would do it better than anyone we could find. The pay would be very hefty in fact, even though you two don't really need it" Jin steps in and I let out a small chuckle

"Sacha's just pulling your leg RM, I'd like to talk to Uncle Kim first if you don't mind, get it from the source before sealing this deal" I say, slipping my hat off and shaking my ears. Sacha kicks my shin under the table and I shrug

"Bee I could care less if they see my ears, I'm proud of what I am" I grin, using her nickname. She huffs at me and slides her hat off as well, tall ears sticking straigh up. She crosses her arms, looking to the side with her arms crossed. Always so dramatic.

"Sure, we can take you to him" Yoongi chimes in, the only other one from the group to speak. Now thinking about it I found it weird how the others haven't uttered a word.

"I am rather curious to what your positions are, I'd also like to hear what the others sound like before I go agreeing to protect all of you" I state, looking at the others. Yoongi speaks first

"I'm in charge of surveillance, digging up people's darkest deepest secrets. Using information against them if they don't respond to physical force." Hoseok speaks up next

"I'm basically the interrogator, I can break anyone and get under their skin." He says with a smile.

"I'm the spy, infultrate gangs and find out information with Yoongi hyung. The guy from earlier found out and that's why I got a beating" Tae admits.

"I'm the weapons expert, so I supply everyone with weapon training" Jimin adds proudly and Sacha's ears peak up, weapons are her specialty as well despite her being timid.

"I'm the enforcer, the muscle of the group you could say. I'm also the best at hand to hand combat" Jungkook finishes and I lean back in my chair impressed.

"Very nice, I doubt that this matters but my speciality was hand to hand combat and making people break. I used to be very manipulative" I say since we were all stating what we were good at.

"Technology and weapons were my specialties. We gave those up a bit after loss of our parents" Sacha adds solemnly.

"Now that we all know about each other, I'll call a ride." RM states so I shoot him a thumbs up.

"Say, what kind of hybrids are you?" Hoseok asks curiously, glancing at our ears

"I'm a black-tailed jackrabbit" Sacha says kindly

"I'm a red Alaskan Malamute!" I declare with a large smile. A honk is heard from outside that signals our ride is here. RM opens the door for us then takes the lead again, opening the car door for us as well. I get in first, plopping on the smooth leather seat, watching my tail of course. Sacha slides in next to me followed by RM and Jin. The other 5 fill the other side and the car moves. The drive was pretty quiet, either this bunch didn't talk much or they didn't want to be rude. The car soon rolls to a halt and the doors open from the outside, we're gestured to exit first so I follow behind Sacha. I stretch out, it wasn't a long ride but those guys have some long ass legs and took up all the room. I smile as I stare at the Kim mansion, many memories and shenanigans happened here. The butler who opened the door guided us to the house and opened the door where we were greeted by the staff. I gasp and my ears perk up when I notice some of the staff from when we were younger. The recognize us too because soon we're in a group hug, them telling us how big we've grown.

"Still a trouble maker my Y/N?" a maid, Hana asks and I nod goofily. She laughs and pats my head, making my tail wag in my jeans. I hear footsteps upstairs and automatically know it's Uncle Kim.

"Well well well, look how big you two are" he boasts, slowly walking down. As he reaches the last step he opens his arms for a hug, Sacha and I going to one side of him.

"I'm so glad to see you again, these boys didn't cause you trouble did they?" Uncle asks, pretending to glare at the group. Sacha giggles and shakes her head.

"I'm glad you're doing well Uncle, but why did you find us just now?" I question and he sighs

"Well, I made a promise to your parents to help you maintain a low profile. I didn't want anyone finding you so I decided it would be best if I helped from the shadows. But when I heard of you jumping in to protect Taehyung, even exposing your ears I knew I had to have you two back. I know it's a rough business but you two learned from the best of the best. I'd only trust you with my boys life" Unlce explains so I side eye Sacha. We have a mini conversation with our eyes and she gives me the subtlest of nods.

"We agree to protect Bangtan Uncle" I state, giving a thumbs up. Uncle chuckles at me before Sacha cuts in.

"Where will be staying?" She asks

"Well, the boys have their own living quarters so it would be with them, in your own rooms of course" he tells us, adding the last part seriously.

"I have some business to attend to though so I'll let you two go pack" uncle adds, giving us another hug before walking back up the stairs. We wave to the staff and head back into the limo, this time I'm squished in between Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook by his side. Poor Sacha is sandwiched in between wide shouldered Jin and Hoseok. The car pulls forward, exiting the driveway, heading towards our house. The ride was silent once again until Jimim asks a question

"So how old are you two?" looking at us.

"I'm 20 years old while Sacha here is 23" I respond and Jungkook perks up.

"When's your birthday?" He asks, hoping I'm younger.

"It's in July, how about yours?" I reply and he deflates

"Mine is in September" he murmurs, still the baby of the bunch. Tae laughs at him and pokes his cheeks, cooing at the baby. The limo soon comes to a halt meaning we're at the house. We all pile out of the car again but my breath stops as I see the fromt door tore down.

"Oh shit" Sacha mutters, pulling out a handgun from her purse, clicking the safety off. I march up to the house and stomp on the door, ears perked to hear noise...but there's nothing. The living room was in ruins, pictures torn to shreds and their frames smashed, furniture pulled apart, tv bashed in, cups, and plates litter the floor practically in dust form. Food was thrown in the kitchen, it looked like a bunch of 5 year olds got into a food fight. We head to my bedroom first and my heart lurches, it was obliterated. My figurines smashed, electronics crushed, books ripped apart, notebook paper was in tatters, even my clothes were in a destroyed heap in the corner of the room. But the part that truly broke me were my shoes, all of my custom made or limited edition ones were torn apart. All of my Timbs that I spent years collecting, I had to stifle a sob through my rage. Sacha comes up behind me and gives me a hug, my items had a lot of sentimental value so my things destroyed was like ripping out my heart. Jin barely ghosts a hand around me, leading me out of the room so we can check on Sacha's.

I was filed with new rage as nothing of hers was touched, nothing was even out of place. She looks back at me and engulfs me in a hug, I didn't need it but she didn't know what else to do. I wanted to punch something, anything to release this anger so I wouldn't lash out at one of them.

"Shhh, we'll figure out who did this okay? We'll get Kyra to fix your shoes somehow. I'll help you get your book collections back too" she whispers to me, trying to comfort me. I want to yell at her, to scream at the top of my lungs but I couldn't...it wasn't her fault. I give her a stiff nod, pushing out of her hold

"Let's get out of here, Bee get what you need...after that call Dave to torch the place" I order, going back to my room to collect my shoe carcasses. I punch the closet wall, leaving a giant hole, then I punch the other side. It didn't help at all as I stomp back to the limo, not waiting for the others. I sit fuming in my spot, brain churning out the names of my enemies who could have done this. One name keeps surfacing but this person died a few years ago..but cats do have nine lives so maybe he's still around. One by one I hear their footsteps, some hesitant to be in a cramped space with and angry hybrid, who's breed can be aggressive if they wanted to. Sacha sits right next to me, Jin and Hoseok sitting next to her. The others take the seats opposite of us and I sit curled on the seat, staring at the ground. Pretty sure I'd be half way to the earths core if I had laser eyes. Sacha hesitantly raises a hand to scratch my head, trying to so something to help me. I felt slight relaxation but my rage was too strong to subside.

"Do you have a name of anyone who would do this?" Yoongi asks and I nod my head.

"I thought he died a few years ago, but damned cats are known for having nine lives so I wouldn't be surprised if he was alive" I mutter, venom in every single syllable of my sentence.

"No way, it can't be him!" Sacha exclaims and I stare right at her

"Who else would know what to destroy? If it were just some stupid group of thugs they would have taken my shoes, not ripped them to shreds. And they would have taken something from your name brand closet but nothing was touched. This was aimed at me." I retort, trying not to lash out at her with words

"I'm just saying, we saw him die. Are you sure?" She asks, not backing down and I nod once. She lets out a sigh and nods.

"We need to look up Ayden Smith, he's a mountain lion hybrid notorious for causing trouble. He became obsessed with Y/N a few years ago to try and get our money, when his plan failed he lashed out and tried to kill us. But Y/N was furious and they had a full on brawl, Y/N ended up choking him to death, he had no pulse and his neck was practically snapped. But cat hybrids are somehow fast as fuck healers so he probably faked the no pulse thing and went into hiding to recover." Sacha explains, my body goes rigid at the mention of the fight, flashbacks rush through my head that make me want to cry. The limo stops once again and we all pile out, everyone letting me out first. The place was nice, it was hidden in the middle of nowhere, must be pretty convenient. RM unlocks the door and we step inside, I look around at the simple yet stylish decor.

"All of our rooms are on the second floor, there's five on each side. Each one has a bathroom and walk in closet. The kitchen is over there, and we have a training room over there, with an arcade in the basement." RM explains, pointing to each place. Jin leads us to our rooms, Sacha's is right next to mine.

"I'm gonna sit and cool off for a second" I murmur to everyone, not wanting to cause tension. Sacha gives me a solemn nod and I gently close the door. The colors were beautiful, maybe Uncle Kim remembered and has these rooms made for us just in case. I sit on the red silk sheets, running my hands up and down the smooth material. I slip my pants off, fluffy white tail springing out, wagging for freedom. I lay on my back, looking at the ceiling

"I will find you Ayden...and I will kill you, for real this time" I declare to the void and close my eyes.

-Ro~ what'd you think??? I changed my ending because Tumblr glitched on me and I lost my original ending progress ;( I know the boys didn't talk much but they will in other chapters as this was more of an introduction. I do hope you all enjoy and please feel free to give me feedback <3 I'd also like to thank the few who voted <33

[safereturndoubtful]

Klondike Tales

by Jack London         ***** (5/5 stars)

I’ll review the best stories.

In A Far Country

is the sort of story for which I chose this book, one of survival in the frozen wastes, enabling London to do what he is best at, make his characters suffer and work for even the most basic of needs. Carter Weatherbee, the protagonist, and a group of other men are traveling to the treacherous Yukon and, as winter takes a grip, must try and reach a small settlement there. They take a vote on whether they should wait for the ice to get thinner or if they should send a team of dogs with two men, and decide on the latter. These are two city men chasing their luck in Klondike gold-rush days. This is also a crime story, which isn’t a spoiler, but hopefully an enticement to read it, and it doesn’t huge guesswork to predict what happens, but the interest is in how it happens. As much as the criminal, London makes nature itself as much of a culprit. For me, this is London at his best, in those cold and unforgiving days of the Yukon.

It’s free online at

https://www.artofmanliness.com/articl...

, and a wonderful way to spend an hour.

To The Man On The Trail

concerns a motley group of frontier men on Christmas Eve on the tail. Their celebration is interrupted by a stranger on a dog sled, who they later learn is fleeing from the law.

Malamute kid arose, cup in hand and glanced at the greased paper window, where the frost stood three inches thick. "a health to the man, on the trail this night, may his grub hold out, may his dogs keep their legs and his matches never misfire"

An Odyssey of the North

features The Malamute Kid, who is from other of London's stories also, but here he really just plays the part of a listener, with his partner on his sled, Prince, as a another man, “He of the Otter Skins”(or Naass), on the point of hypothermia calls on them. Nass talks them through his world travels and how he got to the desperate situation he is now in. Wonderful, and at 30 pages, considerably larger than the rest of the stories in the book.

The Law Of Life

Old Koskoosh appears to be accepting of the fact that he is going to die. He has been abandoned by his tribe due to the fact that he is old and unable to keep up with them. It’s a very powerful story of acceptance that is narrated in the third person by an unknown narrator which enables a gradual realisation of the theme of what it’s about.

Li Wan, the Fair

Li Wan is a young Indian woman of mysterious origins who has never seen a white man, and is arriving in the Klondike region to the madness of the gold-mining activity there. She tries to make friends with a couple of wealthy American women who are visiting the diggings and who are interested in her native dress, but her over-protective native husband is much less friendly, coming from a culture in which the husband dominates the wife, to an almost abusive level.

In the quite splendid

The League Of The Old Men

Imber, Of The Whitefish people, is a multiple murderer who has given himself up in his old age and his case is being heard in court. The question is not if the people he killed, or of the sentence he will receive, but of why he has given himself up. Some writing, like this, should be essential reading to all in positions of power dealing with issues of immigration.

In the courtroom a translator reads Imber’s statement and interviews him,

The courtroom listened stolidly to each unadorned little tragedy, as Imber paused to remember. “First, there was the man who came over the Ice Mountains, it’s cunning traps made of iron, who sought the beaver of the Whitefish. Him, I slew. And there were three men seeking gold on the Whitefish long ago. Them also Inslew, and left them to the wolverines. And at Five Fingers there was a man with a raft and much meat.”

The clash of cultures becomes evident to all except the law-makers of the courtroom.

“The best of our young men and women had gone away with the white men to wander on the trail and river to far places. And the young women came back old and broken, or they came back not at all. And the young men came back to sit by our fires for a time, full of ill speech and rough ways, drinking evil drinks and gambling through long nights and day, with a great unrest always in their hearts. And they were without honor and respect, jeering old time customs and laughing in the faces of the chiefs and the shamans.

.

Its a wonderful piece of writing, one that etches it’s mark into the brain, never to be forgotten.

Love of Life

This is the type of survival story that for me, epitomises Jack London; the days of the goldrush, and the Yukon wilderness descended on by men who had no clue about the shills they would need on the trail, and many perished... Abandoned by his mate after twisting an ankle on a river crossing, the unnamed prospector battles starvation and wolves, and appears doome. There's so much crammed into the 20 or so pages, as London works his magic , we have empathy for his plight, and are desperate to know how the saga ends. This is one of his very best.

To Build A Fire

is the one of these stories I had read previously, some 40+ years ago, but it has never left me, such is it’s power.

It’s a tragic tale of arrogance and a gross under-estimation of the dangers of the wilds. A fable that all who take in the outdoors in any form, would be wise to read.

A man, along with his dog, has offered to source a logging route, and is returning to his mining camp where his friends had been waiting for him, knowing that once he gets there, there is the luxury of hot food and campfires. Prior to his journey though, an old-timer reminded that under no circumstance should one go alone into the Yukon wilderness.

Again, London’s skill is to fit so much into so few pages; the fire the man strives to build symbolising life, the themes of resilience, on the man’s part, and of arrogance and stubbornness to ignore the advice of the old man. Throughout also there is a sense of impending doom, and yet as well as the environmental being a hostile one, it has a rugged beauty and appeal.

London does not give the protagonist a name, referring to him simply as “the man” throughout the story. In doing this, London places him at an even greater distance from the reader within this deadly setting, isolating him even more in the bleak and hostile surroundings.

London writes wonderfully well about dogs. Without conflict or ambiguity, the dog’s character remains the same, it’s sneer almost laughing at the man’s attitude of false sense of superiority.

Not a London quote, but from Whymper, for the many who may feel they can disregard nature’s warnings..

Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.

[buynewsoul]

Why Do Dogs Howl? 5 Reasons

The post Why Do Dogs Howl? 5 Reasons by Melvin Peña appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

No matter where you live, you almost certainly have had the experience of being out on the stoop or porch late at night and hearing the unmistakable sound of dogs howling in the distance. So, why do dogs howl?

Researchers believe that dog howling is bound up in dog genetics. The ancient dog breeds are recognized for how closely their DNA matches that of the wolves from which they descended. When answering the question, “Why do dogs howl,” we have to examine the following questions, too — Is dog howling an atavistic expression of a shared wild ancestry? A lingering vestige of wolf times and pack activity? Communication seems to be at the heart of things, so let’s seek to answer the query, “Why do dogs howl” — and find out what they might be saying.

1. Dog howling is a community organizing and homing beacon

Why do dogs howl? There are many different reasons! Photography by Africa Studio/Shutterstock.

Why do dogs howl? Well, in the wild, wolves and feral dogs howl to bring scouts back to the pack after a hunt. Dogs who remain behind howl to provide the location of their base. So, one of the answers to, “Why do dogs howl?” is that dog howling acts as a vocal homing beacon or a kind of auditory lighthouse which guides other pack members back.

Pet dogs howling can be a similar expression, particularly if you’ve been out of the house all day. Dogs howl to beckon their loved ones back home.

2. Dog howling is boundary demarcation and defense mechanism

Dog howling signals to other dogs that the area they are entering has been claimed and occupied. It is a warning to outsiders that encroachment risks the threat of violence. Howling dogs announce their presence and alert their community to changing circumstances. In this context, dog howling functions as a defense mechanism, warding off potential predators and ensuring the safety of the dogs in the pack.

In a domestic setting, like your home, the answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” might be for the same reason. Some dogs bark, others howl when a stranger comes to the door or a new car pulls up in the driveway.

3. Dogs howl to attract attention or express anxiety

A simple answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” A howling dog may simply want attention. Some dog owners know that dogs can be as emotionally manipulative as any human. The sound of a dog howling attracts the attention of his owner. Maybe you dash across the house to see what’s wrong, only to find yourself greeted by a dog who wants to be played with. Go through this routine enough times and the dog will learn that howling is an effective way to bring you running.

Of course, there are two sides to this coin. If your dog knows that you leave for extended periods of time, he may howl as an expression of separation anxiety. Dogs that don’t have toys or sufficient things to entertain them in your absence get sad, lonely and depressed. So, the sad answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” could be that your dog is howling in protest of being left alone. Imagine if someone put you in a crate all day or left you in some other space for an extended period of time. You’d howl, too!

4. Dogs howl in response to stimuli and bonding exercises

Dog howling can be a response to environmental triggers. Common provocations include ambulance, police or fire-engine sirens. The sound of these noises were the only times that my dog ever howled. The distant sound of approaching sirens always prompted her to sit up and join in the wailing. The reason remains uncertain, since she never howled at the sound of other dogs howling. Perhaps the pitch of sirens awoke some otherwise-dormant genetic memory.

Much of our research confirms that dog howling occurs when certain sounds are perceived. The prompts and triggers can be anything: music on a stereo at a party, popular television theme songs, or the sound of musical instruments. People who enjoy dogs howling even seem to encourage their dogs by howling themselves! It would seem that one reason dogs howl is the experience of community or of bonding. Why do dogs howl at sirens? Why do dogs howl when you howl? Perhaps it’s to join in and be a part of the action.

5. Dogs howl to alert you to injury or discovery

Another answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” could be that dogs howl to express injury. People weep when they get hurt; dogs howl in similar situations. Dogs howl to vocalize pain. Some dogs are also trained to howl when they make discoveries. Hunting dog breeds howl to signal the pursuit or apprehension of prey. If a dog has treed, cornered or caught something, he may howl to alert his owners to the location of the prize.

Does your dog like to howl, or “sing”?

Some dog breeds certainly tend to howl more than others. Breeds known for howling include Alaskan Malamutes, American Eskimo Dogs, Beagles, Coonhounds (Black and Tan, Bluetick, Redtick, English, Redbone and Treeing Walker), Dachshunds, Foxhounds (American and English), Hounds (Bloodhound, Basset), Huskies (Alaskan and Siberian), Native American Indian Dogs and Tamaskan Dogs, among others.

Some final thoughts on the question, “Why do dogs howl?”

One thing to consider is that dog howling, like any other form of vocal expression, has no fixed meaning. The answer to, “Why do dogs howl?” is a shifting signifier whose interpretation is situation-dependent. I enjoy going to karaoke; is it so difficult to imagine that a dog might not howl out of necessity, but out of joy?

Tell us: Is your dog a howler? When and how do your dogs get the urge to sing? Why do you think your dogs howl? Share your experiences with dog howling in the comments! Let us know the breed or mix, if you can.

Thumbnail: Photography ©srugina | Thinkstock. 

This piece was originally published in 2015.

Learn more about dog howling and barking with Dogster.com:

Dogs That Don’t Bark: 5 Quiet Dog Breeds

Why Do Dogs Bark? Reasons Dogs Bark and How to Stop Excessive Dog Barking

Barking Dogs: 6 Dogs Who Were Bred to Bark

Is Your Dog Barking and Annoying Your Neighbors? Here’s What to Do

The post Why Do Dogs Howl? 5 Reasons by Melvin Peña appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.