//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: And They Call It Puppy Love // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Two ponies, one pony that was starting to believe it might actually be a dog, and one dog sat around the dinner table, all looking at one another. Fleagle seemed shy and nervous, Screwloose was blushing every time she looked at Fleagle or her roommate, Parasol was grinning sheepishly at Mint Jewelup, and Mint Jewelup was having the time of her life. Mint was utterly in love with every being sitting at her table. She loved Parasol in a hot and steamy sort of way, she loved Screwloose in a best friend sort of way, and she loved Fleagle simply because he made Screwloose happy, and Mint believed that Screwloose deserved to be happy. Dinner was simple fare. Homemade macaroni and cheese, extra extra cheese, smashed potatoes loaded down with butter, sauteed broccoli and cauliflower, and a rather spicy black bean dish. If there was going to be romance tonight, it would be announced with the blaring of trumpets, Mint thought to herself, giggling internally, secretly pleased with her fiendish dinner plan. Tonight, love would be tested. Fleagle clumsily held a spoon in his paw, grasping it to the best of his ability. He took a few careful bites, looking around, worried about what others might think. Screwloose tore in with reckless abandon, which was unusual for her, as she was usually a slow careful eater. Fleagle, watching Screwloose, sighed deeply, but continued his struggle, slow careful bites, trying to remember what his adoptive parent had taught him. Mint carefully levitated a spoon and fed Parasol a bite of smashed potatoes. “Screwloose tells me you were raised by a griffon.” Mint said around a bite of broccoli. Fleagle nodded and swallowed before replying: “Yes. Nice griffon raised me. Took me in. Was good to Fleagle.” Mint turned to Parasol. “This only further proves my point I was trying to make earlier. I think Screwloose makes a great point. Species shouldn’t matter either, just like gender shouldn’t. Fleagle was raised by a griffon and look at him, he turned out fine.” Mint tapped the side of her head with her spoon. “All that really matters is what we are up here.” Parasol looked at Fleagle. “Did you ever feel confused about being raised by a griffon?” She asked. Fleagle remained silent and thoughtful, chewing on some beans before answering: “When Fleagle was little yes. That went away. Hookbill was father. Had feathers. Cat. Didn’t matter.” Fleagle wracked his brain for a few moments. “Left Fleagle with cat-like need for bath.” “You have such lovely white fur.” Screwloose said in a low whisper. “Hard to keep clean.” Fleagle replied, taking a bite of macaroni, struggling with the stringy cheese stretching between his spoon and his plate. “Maybe I could help you out in the bathtub.” Screwloose said straightforwardly, grinning with an almost awkward embarrassed look on her face. Fleagle nearly choked on his macaroni. “Screwloose, what has gotten into you?” Mint asked, blushing slightly at her friend. “I dunno...” said Screwloose, “but I like it. And I can think of something else I might want in me.” Mint Jewelup tittered coquettishly. “Fleagle feels warm. Is warm in here, yes?” Fleagle asked, his breath short, his tail wagging round and round in a circle. “I’m certainly feeling warm.” Parasol said, stretching her leg out under the table and rubbing Mint Jewelup’s leg with her own. “Something is rubbing my leg.” Screwloose said. “Is that you Minty?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and gazing at her roommate. Parasol blushed, but said nothing. “I think I would know if I was rubbing your leg.” Mint Jewelup replied. “Not fair. Nopony is playing hoofsies with me under the table.” “Well, I felt a hoof, not a paw.” Screwloose said with a faint chuckle. Both Screwloose and Mint Jewelup looked over at Parasol, who was trying to sink into her chair. “Whoops.” Parasol said with a soft smile. Fleagle let out a chortling wheeze. “I feel really good.” Screwloose announced. “Better than I have felt in a long time.” She gave a pointed look at Mint and half smiled. “Fleagle was lonely, hiding in town full of ponies. Nice to have company.” Fleagle said, nodding, stuffing some beans and macaroni into his mouth and licking the spoon. “Where are you staying?” Parasol asked. “There is abandoned shack out by train station.” Fleagle said. “Nice shack. No leaks in roof. Wood floor. Nopony ever goes there. Shrubs grow up all around on all sides. Window is broken though.” “That sounds a little rough.” Mint said, her voice full of concern. “Fleagle likes it.” Fleagle replied. “Me sometimes sleep out in woods in grass under stars. Not need much to be happy.” “Do I make you happy?” Screwloose blurted out suddenly. “I’ve been wondering.” “Fleagle very happy.” Fleagle said in a low raspy voice. “Fleagle still wondering why he so lucky.” Screwloose took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She felt a hoof on her shoulder and turned and looked at Mint. “Woah there little filly.” Mint said, looking her in the eye. “Slowly.” Screwloose nodded. Fleagle looked at Screwloose, his hound dog face drooping but somehow still looking happy, even through all of the sad looking wrinkles and folds. “Were we ever this sappy?” Parasol said, looking at Mint Jewelup. “We’re still this sappy,” said Mint, “if I am doing my job right.” “Puppy love.” Parasol said. “You hear about those first crushes all the time. But I never thought I’d see actual puppy love.” Mint tittered while both Screwloose and Fleagle exchanged embarrassed glances around the table. Fleagle carefully spooned some potatoes into his jowls, licking the leftover potatoes from the spoon. Screwloose had shaped her potatoes into a heart shape on her plate. She planted a broccoli stalk into the middle, forming a nice little tree. She spooned a bite of macaroni, scooping up a cauliflower with her bite. She jammed it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I never thought I’d be doing this. Or feeling this.” Parasol said suddenly. “Sitting around a table. Like this. Eating dinner. Being happy. Feeling like I am part of a family again. Even though I just met Fleagle.” A tear welled up in the corner of her eye. “After my falling out with my parents, I never thought I’d feel this way again. Hurt so much.” She sniffled. Mint reached over and rubbed her shoulder with a hoof. Parasol scrubbed at her eyes with a foreleg, while Fleagle’s tail wagged behind his chair. “I think I feel normal.” Screwloose said. “I have no clue what normal is, but I think I might be feeling it. Scares me a little.” “This is good.” Mint said. “I wanted everypony and everydoggy to come together and be friends, ignoring whatever differences we might have.” She turned to Fleagle. “And if you ever need anything to eat, or just get lonesome, stop by. If somepony is home, our door is always open.” Fleagle nodded in gratitude. “Everydoggy?” Screwloose said, savouring the word. “I like the way that sounds. Has a nice style.” The innuendo hovered in the air for several moments before it exploded like a grenade. Parasol nearly choked on her food. Mint’s eyes went wide, her pupils becoming pinpricks. Fleagle made a flatulent sound as his jowls flapped from his exasperated gasp, his brows extra wrinkled as his eyes widened alarmingly. Mint finally recovered from her shock enough to begin chortling, covering her muzzle with her foreleg. Screwloose giggled. “I made a funny.” “I’ll say.” Mint said, still in shock. “That was hilarious, especially coming from you.” Parasol coughed a few times and then smiled. She cautiously took another bite, worried about another concussive blast from an innuendo grenade. She chewed on a massive head of broccoli. “I’m so much in love right now.” Mint announced. “I almost don’t know how to deal with it.” “Love?” Fleagle asked. “Mint Jewelup loves everything she meets.” Parasol explained. “Unconditionally. Or she tries to do so. There are a few ponies she doesn’t like, but she claims to still love them, even though she hates what they do.” “I don’t claim anything.” Mint sniffed. “I can love somepony or whomever it might be and not like what they do. Like my former therapist. She did bad things, but I still loved her.” “Fleagle confused.” Fleagle stated. “Love is a choice. And I choose to love. Everything. Everyone. In different ways. There is physical love. And emotional love. And a million variations in between. And I want to feel them all.” Mint Jewelup said. “There is so much hate in the world. I don’t know if I can change the world, but I can change my self. And I choose to love.” “Me think me understand.” Fleagle said thoughtfully. “Fleagle chooses love too.” Fleagle struggled for words. “Life needs meaning. Love is meaning. Fleagle chooses meaningful things. Not a dumb dog. Must make meaning or find meaning, or else, what is point of having mind?” “No Fleagle, you are not a dumb dog.” Mint Jewelup said. “You’re smarter than a lot of ponies I know.” Mint winked at Fleagle. Screwloose leaned over in her chair and planted a kiss on Fleagle’s jowls, moving quickly, before he had a chance to react. Fleagle responded by sitting there, stunned into silence. Parasol sniffled. “That was beautiful.” She said in a low whisper. “I understand now why Mint Jewelup loves everything. I think my eyes opened a bit.” “Fleagle likes thinking about things. Like chewing on bone. Never pony bone though. Take effort and time to wear down whatever you chew on. Thinking same way. Time and effort.” Fleagle said, a hint of concern in his voice. “Fleagle never eat anything that talk.” “You can’t change what you are.” Mint said, understanding. “You do what you need to do in whatever way you see fit about doing it.” “Fleagle would die if me killed something with voice.” Fleagle whined. “Would be bad dog.” His tail drooped and his face took on extra sag. “Was so afraid of being seen by ponies. Diamond dogs sometime eat ponies. Or anything else. Fleagle cannot eat something that say no. Not belong with other dogs.” “You have a place with us.” Mint said. “I mean that.” Fleagle nodded. “I feel giddy.” Parasol said. “Light headed. Like I’m slightly drunk. I think I’m euphoric.” “Wait till after dinner…” Mint trailed off suggestively, waggling her eyebrows saucily at Parasol. “That reminds me. Dessert. I made a blueberry cheesecake.” “So if I say yes, you’ll nibble me?” Screwloose said to Fleagle, grinning a lopsided grin, one eye slightly wider than the other. “Are you offering to be dessert?” Mint Jewelup snarked, not wanting to be outdone by her friend. “Screwloose and blueberry topping?” Fleagle said, raising one wrinkled eyebrow. Screwloose’s ears turned purple. “Normally I would be dying right now. Or I’d be a puddle under the table. Or hiding in my room. But tonight, I’m letting go.” Screwloose let go a nervous titter and blinked rapidly. “Easy there love.” Mint said, her joviality now gone, replaced with a hint of concern. “Foal steps. Don’t push ahead to far too fast.” She touched Screwloose’s cheek gently. “Maybe I spoke out of turn.” “I’m tired of being dead to everything.” Screwloose said in an odd monotone. “Just feeling nothing. Nothing at all but therapeutically approved emotions that I barely feel at all. I want to be shocked. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be embarrassed. I want to just feel something. Anything. I want to struggle through something awkward. I’m tired of being dead.” Screwloose began to rock back and forth in her chair, her mane bobbing slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I’ve been there.” Parasol said darkly. “So have I.” Mint added. “It took me a long time to get to that point. You’re doing good Screwloose. Just hang on and things will get better.” “Can Fleagle help?” Fleagle said, his houndish face full of concern, the sort of concerned look only a hound could make. Mint turned to look at Fleagle. “Be her friend. Help me get her through this rough patch. She’s made some brave decisions, and it isn’t going to be easy for her.” “Fleagle can do that.” Fleagle said. “Me having trouble understanding all this though. Understand or not, Fleagle loyal.” Parasol nodded. “I’m glad to know you Fleagle.” “Alright, enough moping. I’m serving cheesecake. No more sad stuff. Any sad pony or dog is going to be blueberried. And there is only one way to get blueberries out of your pelt.” Screwloose tittered. “Those whom the alicorns wish to destroy they first make mad.” She grinned a manic grin. “Oh Screwloose… What am I going to do with you?” Mint Jewelup said. “I need to be loved.” Screwloose said. “Fleagle, I’m holding you responsible for that.” Mint said, raising an eyebrow at Fleagle. “Need blueberries.” Fleagle said, causing three mares to giggle like school fillies. “I’m not going mad. I think I’m going normal. I don’t know what is worse.” Screwloose said as Mint served the cheesecake. “It is a little overwhelming.” Parasol rubbed her belly. “I don’t know about the blueberry cheesecake, but I know I’ll be having tribadism à la skidmarks later.”