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DeliquescenceSitting on the grass in the middle of the park with his eyes closed, Declán turned his face up to the sky as the rain fell in sheets. It was heavy enough to quickly soak through his guard hair and saturate his undercoat. Sometimes you were just so wet, you couldn't get any wetter and this was one of those times. Rather than shaking himself off, he stayed put and enjoyed the downpour as it beat a tattoo on the ground.

Five minutes later and the worst of the storm had passed. Declán stretched his limbs slowly and stood, bracing himself as he violently shook the water from his fur.

The rain had abated to a light drizzle as made his way home. He'd just rounded the corner of his street when he saw the labrador. The great goofy creature came bounding over to play, obviously seeing a large wolf as a brand new friend. Declán sighed as he suffered through the usual canine greeting.

Once the chocolate lab had settled down enough to make any sort of sense, Declán managed to find out that it was lost. He explained that if the lab turned around and stuck his nose to the ground, he could follow his own scent trail home. The lab blinked in slow comprehension, apparently following his own trail never occurred to him. Selective breeding had a lot to answer for.

Not trusting the dog to have an attention span longer than a goldfish, Declán thought it best to hold his paw and get him safely home. With the dogcatcher due in the area soon, Declán may be able to smell it a mile away, but he doubted his new friend could smell beyond the end of his snout. The silly sod would be sitting in a cell down at Battersea before he knew what was happening.

Getting the labrador home involved a long and circuitous journey that eventually ended a block over from where they'd met. Declán glared at the lab, who complete missed the look declaring him a poor excuse for a canine and bounded up the stairs to bounce noisily off the door.

A woman opened the door and was nearly flattened by her very wet and ecstatically happy dog. "Buster! I was so worried about you." She hugged Buster, who had his paws on her shoulders and was licking her face enthusiastically.

As she went to close the door, she noticed the wolf sitting quietly outside on the footpath. "Who's your friend, Buster." She waved Declán over. "You'd better come in and dry off, big lad."

Cocking his head to one side, Declán looked at the woman. With her long strawberry blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail, she was certainly a cutie and she loved her big dopey dog. Perhaps Buster was on a good wicket after all. He made his decision and trotted inside, to be immediately wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel hot from the dryer.

He rumbled in pleasure as the women rubbed the towel through his coat. It looked like there were benefits to being a big, dumb labrador. Declán made a note to introduce himself to this woman when he was walking about on two legs. Someone who gave backrubs this good was well worth getting to know better.

15minuteficletsword #58: drenched
Part of the Meetings!verse and the Wolf&Declán!verse


10th Jun, 2004 04:27 (UTC)
Tinkerbell, my cat, ate part of our new aloe vera plant last night. (And threw up all over the carpet afterwards.) So it's not just dumb dogs who'll eat spiky plants. Dumb cats are just as bad. ::smiles fondly at adorably-cute-but-incredibly-stupid little black Tinky::
10th Jun, 2004 06:19 (UTC)
You called the cat Tinkerbell? Poor little guy didn't stand a chance in the lineup for smarts.
10th Jun, 2004 06:31 (UTC)
Girl. Tinky's a girl. And she's technically my sister's cat, adopted from the SPCA and raised from kittenhood. She's very sweet, very affectionate, and looks like a big ball of fluff. :) (Speaking of which, how's cat hair work for spinning???)

We used to have another cat, Pumpkin, but she died at 3 1/2 years of age from genetic deterioration. Most beautiful kitty I've ever seen, but so inbred her own body turned against her. Oddly enough, however, Pumpkin was smarter than little-miss stray mutt Tinky. Pumpkin learned how to open doors; Tinky learned that swallowing a live still-fluttering moth tickles going down the throat.
10th Jun, 2004 06:38 (UTC)
I haven't tried spinning cat hair, but I know it can be spun and would love to give it a shot.

Poor Pumpkin. Bad breeders. Bad.

Tonka likes to play with birds. He finds them exciting fluttery toys, much like Tinky would moths. The birds end up intact, soggy and quite dead. He loses interest when his toys don't work any more. Cats excite him too. He's got a thing for a new ginger tom in the street that tries to chase him off its turf. Tonka just sees this as the toy coming to him.
10th Jun, 2004 06:50 (UTC)
Tinky has long, thick, silky black fur. And she sheds like the dickens. I'll collect it for you and ship it to you, if you'd like. How much do you need, and are there any special requirements to storing/shipping?

Pumpkin was a purebred Somalie (sp?). A very long and thin cat, vaguely Egyption but with long, very fine fur. Her colouring was classed as "devonshire cream calicho", which basically means grey, beige, white and pink splotches. Very pretty. I have a tribute to her in my Memories, but Angelfire is being a bitch and not letting the photo load. I really need to move to a decent server... ::grumbles::
10th Jun, 2004 08:07 (UTC)
If you're storing it out of harm's way, keep it in a paper bag. If it's in plastic, sometimes it can go mildewy if there's moisture around.

50gm is a goodly amount. I'll spin half, see how far it's going and then decide if I can ply it on itself or need to ply it on another fibre.

When you ship it, make sure it's in plastic (ziplock sandwich bags are fine) and you label that it's cleaned fibre. Remind me before you send it and I'll chase up the wording on the labels Wild Rose Fibres in Canada used on the stuff I got from them.

The quarantine beagles will sniff it out, even if it's sealed, so setting their mind at ease means it gets to me.

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