FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He listed off the breeds at the dog park.

Dalmatian, Husky, St. Bernard. Too old. Too nerdy. Too mannish.

Basset Hound, Pug, Pomeranian. Is that a guy? Just yuck on the Pug. Now here's something.

Craig took another look at the Pomeranian. A small dog, but she was cute, and her bright, yellow fur was certainly eye-catching. She was definitely the hottest bitch at the park, and matched his pure, white, Samoyed fur quite well.

He wasn't looking at the pets of course, running around in the dirt and chewing on rotten tennis balls. Craig came to the dog park to scan the people, and the Pomeranian was definitely the winner. He did his best to get closer to her without making it obvious what he was doing.

"That a Bloodhound?" he asked, glancing down at her dog.

The young bitch's eyes popped wide, not noticing him there. She glanced down at her dog as if seeing her for the first time, and then said, "Oh, yes. Her name's Oona."

"What a coincidence. My dog's a Bloodhound, too," he lied. It was his usual lie, just more convenient considering the girl's pet.

"Oh. What's his name?" the girl asked, looking Craig up and down. The twenty-year-old looked younger than he was, and more beautiful than handsome with his luxurious fur. He'd used to wish he were a Rottweiler or something manly, but he'd figured out how to make gorgeous work for him.

"Benson. He's still recovering from a vet visit, or I'd have him here. But I'm so used to walking to the dog park, I came anyway," he chuckled. "Want to see a picture?"

The girl smiled. "Sure."

Out popped the wallet, with pictures. Sure enough, the dog pictured was Benson. She didn't have to know that Benson wasn't a pet, but actually Craig's former college roommate. Considering that he was naked except for a collar (hazing was so much fun for the ferals), she was better off thinking he was just a mindless dog.

"Oh, wow, he's a handsome dog," the girl said. She paused and said, "Hi, my name's Ginny."

He held out a hand and she shook. "Craig. Hey...what school do you go to?"

College? High School? _ Middle? _He perked his ears up, running the local schools through his head.

Ginny smiled. "Pendleton. You?"

High school, then. That put her at 14-18. "Oh, I go across town at Markwell High," he lied. "It's a bit of a commute, but they have a better car shop."

"You work in the shop?" she asked, her curled, golden tail wagging.

Craig laughed. "You wouldn't believe how long it takes to get oil stains out of this fur. Well, maybe you would guess it..."

"What grade are you in?" she asked, cocking her head.

"I'm a junior," he said smoothly. Then she'd think anything between them would be legal in this state, even if she were younger than the age of consent, 16. She looked too young to be a senior, so junior was a safe bet.

"Freshman," she said, putting her at 14. No way she'd be interested in him if she knew he was twenty, and if he got caught, that'd be statutory rape! But he didn't intend to get caught.

"Wow, you look older," Craig complimented, though the short Pomeranian looked younger, if anything. "Well, you should let me know if you need any help with your classes. I did pretty well in 9th grade."

Oona was tugging on the leash, and Ginny followed the Bloodhound, Craig close at her side. "I'll do that. Oh...what's your number?" she asked.

Too easy. He took out his phone. "Tell me yours and I'll send you a text, kay?"

"Look, I have to go," he said, "but I'll give you a call sometime. We should hang out, sometime."

"Yeah!" Ginny smiled, her flat ears belying her nervousness. If she was this shaky talking to a junior, imagine if she knew he was a college student! "We should have a doggy play date sometimes. Oona would love to meet Benson! Maybe next week?"

Craig deflated. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. "Maybe," he said.

* * * * *

And she wouldn't let the idea drop. Every time Craig texted her to hang out, she insisted on meeting Benson. Craig tried everything to change the subject away from his supposed pet dog, but nothing was doing. Finally, exasperated, he made a call he'd never thought he'd do.

"Hey, Benson? How's Big Gabe treating you?" Benson had upgraded roomies from Craig to a Great Dane starter on the football team. The college liked to pair up two and four legs so that the handed roommate could handle all the things that the feral couldn't. The two-leggers got a reduction in tuition, and the ferals got help getting dressed and reaching for things on shelves.

"Get to the point, Craig." The Bloodhound had realized pretty quickly that Craig never did anything he didn't have to, and only then when he had something to gain.

"Jeeze. Old times sake and all that?"

"I can already tell I'm not going to like this."

Craig gritted his teeth. Benson could be such a prick. "Look, I need a wingman for a double date. And it's gotta be you."

"What about your girlfriend?"

"She would make a pretty bad wingman, don't you think?" Craig replied. "Look, it's just a fling. Cynthia doesn't need to know."

Benson sighed. "Tell me the catch. You wouldn't be calling me if there weren't a catch."

"So...the girl I'm into has a Bloodhound."

"Her roommate only likes other Bloodhounds?" Benson asked.

Craig sighed. There was no way this was going to work. "No...it's not her roommate. It's her pet. I need you to play a pet dog so I can make the moves on the girl."

"Craig, you insolent little prick. No way."

"You owe me, Benson. Remember?"

There was a pause on the line, and Craig suddenly sensed he'd gotten an opening. After all, Craig had played wingman for Benson a year ago. A feral Komondor and her German Shepherd roommate. Only...Benson had a thing for the Shepherd. Not too uncommon, really - when two ferals got together no one could wash the dishes. So Craig had a date with the Komondor. If you've never seen one, look it up. It was like fucking a mop.

And Craig did fuck her, too. It quickly became clear that the German Shepherd was only doing this to get the fat, white bitch a casual hook-up, and if the Samoyed didn't come through, Benson wasn't going to get any either. Three of the four went home happy, with Craig washing himself off in the dorm showers for a few hours.

"Come on, Craig, at least Barbara was a person. This is not the same."

Craig paused on the phone just long enough to let Benson contemplate it. Then he said, "It's not like you've got to fuck the bitch. Just play pet for an hour or two so I can get a piece of Pomeranian tail. You owe me at least that much."

There was a pause on the other end. "A Pom, huh? She cute?"

"Yeah, man. She's _really_cute."

...

...

"Fine, I'll do it. But then we're even, Craig."