poster by @smoakingwaffles
Hey guys! This new story is the result of a collaboration between @kkruml, @smoakingwaffles and @whiskynottea and it’s inspired by the 101 Dalmatians!! Hope you’ll enjoy it as much as we do!
Chapter 1. Chocolate and Ginger (by @whiskynottea)
My name is Pongo, and I am the most adorable chocolate Labrador you’ve ever seen, if I may say so myself.
My ancestors were retrievers from the north. They lived in a faraway land, called Canada. You know, beautiful lakes, snow, waterfalls. I’m sure you’ve watched documentaries about it. I certainly have.
Oh yes. My ancestors. They were trained to bring game back to hunters and this was what they mostly did. That’s why I have a soft mouth. But I don’t do that. Dead birds and rabbits are not my kind of game, thank you very much. Thank God, Jamie – my human – isn’t a hunter. But he does have a small red squeaking ball and I retrieve it faster than any other dog in the park.
Not to boast, but I’m the best. And he knows that, every time I return the ball to his feet, wiggling my tail.
Ah… Jamie. Let me talk to you about him, shall I?
I’ve know the man all my life. Three years and I think I counted more than 1000 days in them. But I might be wrong. I’m a dog after all, not Albert Einstein.
Jamie found me when I was a little puppy, deserted on the street. The people that bought me, they surely didn’t know that dogs bark. And cry. And pee. And poo. I think they believed I was like a moving stuffed animal or something. Every time I tried to talk to them, they hushed me. And when I was lonely at night and I cried… Well, they abandoned me. During winter. In the cold, freezing Glasgow.
Sometimes humans are worse than lemurs. Do you know the lemurs, that steal your food? Not the one that stars in ‘Magadascar’ and likes to move it. The others, the real ones. How do I know what they do? I’m a dog! I love watching TV!
So yes, some humans are worse than lemurs. And I don’t like having my food stolen AT ALL, mind that.
Fortunately, these people left me outside Jamie’s apartment building. He found me crying at night and he took me in. Next day he plastered posters with my picture – and I was looking adorable – and the word ‘FOUND’ on top of my head, but no one sought me. So Jamie kept me. The man was lucky, wasn’t he?
Lucky, but sometimes stupid.
He thought he was funny, but I’m saying stupid. Why? He almost named me Cotton from the Cottonelle toilet paper advertisement! And I say almost, because Murtagh, his godfather, hit him on the head when he voiced this thought. I guess that hitting a human on the head brings some sense back to him, because Jamie named me Pongo after that. And we’ve stayed together in his little apartment in Glasgow ever since.
I love our house. It is such a mess, with canvases around the living room and an easel on the corner, in front of Jamie’s chair. He has many paints and he calls them all with different names. The acrylic paint, the oil paint, the watercolor paint. But if you want to know, they are all the same. And he hates when I eat them. If you ever meet Jamie don’t try to eat his paints. The pencils either – he hates that as well.
Jamie is an artist. And I am a kind of an artist myself, you know. I’ve done this masterpiece with my paws – one purple, one blue, one yellow and one green. It was beautiful. Jamie thought that he might bring something of himself in it as well, so he brushed both hands with black paint and placed them between my paws. It is so good that we hung it above the couch, where we snuggle every evening. Even Jamie’s sister, Jenny, was speechless for a moment when she first saw it. Then she said “Are ye out of yer mind, brother?” She definitely liked it, to think that Jamie got out of his mind when he thought of this. As you may understand, I couldn’t let Jamie take all the fame for our work and I barked that it was my idea. Jenny scratched my ears, acknowledging my brilliance.
Every second weekend, Jamie and I ride to Lallybroch to see Jenny and her family. Being in the car is awful, but I always stick my head out of the window and feel the wind.
Have you ever tried that? It feels GREAT!
Anyway, Lallybroch is a doll. I can be free there, running on the green grass and eating all the wildflowers without anyone yelling at me. Jamie never lets me eat the things I spot in the park. He says it’s not safe. But in Lallybroch everything is safe!
The only human that really understands my happiness when I roll or run down the hill is the little one – wee Jamie. He runs with me – sometimes he rides me but I’m not a big fan of this particular game – and we play together. These weekends are the best. And I get far more treats from everyone, especially when I give them my foot. I don’t know why, but that gets them excited and they make the funniest faces. Wait until I turn around myself, I always think. Everybody is squeaking when I do that trick and Jamie gets so proud that his chest expands so much I believe it will tear his shirt up.
So… yes. My life is great. I guess you love me already but hold your horses. My human is Jamie and I don’t change him for the world.
It would be great to have a mate. All these hours that Jamie paints, I have no one to play with. And I can’t deny that the possibility of my own little furry balls running around the house is quite enticing. I am a grown dog, you know.
As we speak, Jamie’s painting on a black canvas. A series of lines and smudges dot the surface… Oh now he’s huffing, and his red locks have shaded his eyes – that’s always a bad sign, I’m telling you. I think he needs a mate too, to take his hair away from his eyes.
What am I doing right now? I’m lying on my fluffy black pillow, watching out of our long window.
Oh, still four twenty. I have to wait for the clock to chime five o’clock, to take my beautiful black leash and push Jamie to the door so we can go out for our evening walk.
Living with Jamie is usually fun, but when he’s drawing his things paying no attention to me I get so bored!
We have to find company. But if I wait for Jamie to do that… We would stay bachelors for the rest of our lives.
Not that he’s not handsome. Well, he’s not as handsome as I am, but for a human I’d say he’s pretty great. He’s taller than the most, with more muscles. I’m sure he can beat everyone up if I get him into a fight. And the girls, they all look at him like he’s a big catch. He can’t see that, but I can. I’m not a bulldog – no offense mates but you’re not that smart.
But Jamie is stubborn. Have I told you that? Very stubborn. Every time he comes back home from a date and we’re alone on our couch he rubs my belly and says “No, Pongo. She wasn’t the one either.”
Where is this one? I’m getting frustrated.
But wait a minute! If he can’t find her, I will do it! And I will choose my own mate, too. Let me see what’s going on at the street.
Old lady with her little Maltese – no, too old.
Young girl with – Oh why do I even consider it? Too young!
Well, let me see this one. She is… different. The long brown skirt, the turtleneck black blouse… No. She won’t do either.
Now what is this?! High heels, long coat, hair perfectly coiffured… Let me see my mate as well… No. She’ll definitely not roll with me in Lallybroch. I have to say no.
Oooh. That isn’t as easy as I expected! We’ll stay alone in this flat forever!
Just... Wait a minute! What do my beautiful round eyes see?
Oh yes, she’s perfect. Blonde, long legs, perfect eyes…
Let me see the human, too.
Curly brown hair, jeans, plaid shirt…
Plaid shirt?! That’s the one!
Where are they going? They’re heading to the park! We have to hurry up!
Oh God, it’s still four thirty. Jamie won’t let his brushes down until five o’clock. We’re screwed – don’t tell Jamie I said that.
It’s four thirty, but what if it was five? What if I move the pointer just a little bit…
The clock chimes and I’m jumping around Jamie, before going to stand in front of our door.
Let’s go, Jamie! Leash in mouth, paw on the doorknob.
It’s so good that Jamie doesn’t understand me when I talk like this. He would ban me from going out if he did, I’m pretty sure he would.
Is he coming? Yes, he’s coming. He finally got up from his stool.
Jeans, sweater, long coat… Perfect. That hair, though… Well, hers was not better! She could hide a month’s treats in there!
And off we go! We’re going to meet them!
My perfect blondie, we’re coming for you and your curly wig human!
