FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Begin at the beginning, continue until you reach the end,

and then stop.

Charles Dodson; Lewis Carrol

Bobbie moves swiftly down the crowded hallway, he quickly threads his way around the other students changing classes in the halls. He's not looking around, not looking for friends, and barely watching the press of furrs packing into the halls. He is not quite invisible, but if any furrs notice him, he appears as a rather small Dalmatian male, seemingly lost in thought. He weaves down the hall navigating the press of between class furrs with the skill of a city cyclist during rush hour. Stepping swiftly, moving slightly faster than the crowd, he is heading to class because he wants to be there early to get his favorite seat. He's a little worried about that. Bobbie's smaller than almost any furr in the crush of students; he seems to be a runt. Under sized and under weight, he is always the smallest in the gym class, year after year. He's a little worried about that. This year, when everyone is weighing in somewhere between 125 and 250 pounds, Bobbie weighs only 98. But no matter how invisible he wants to be in High School, sometimes bad things happen... or happen again.

Sometimes, (too often really), you bump into a 'wanna-be' demon in training.

Sometimes, (too seldom really), an angel asks you a question.

Bobbie wants to stay as invisible as he can for the next two years, to graduate without attracting any attention, ... or any notice, (or as little as possible). His mother and he have just moved back into the area after living away for eight years. There is no one in the town that he recognizes from before, and so he is rather lonely. He would like to make friends here, but he's afraid to try. It was very bad...what had happened in the last school he attended. He is as he seems to be: willing to be friendly with anyone friendly to him. No one knows of a single secret he has to hide, that is; if he did have a secret, to whom would he tell it?

Change comes.

It comes and rolls over you, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly.

Humans said, "Once burned, is twice shy," but the dogs say, "Last one hit is the next to duck." But Bobbie's not shy; he's scared, --and keeps to himself whenever possible. Bobbie has a host of worries; he worries about something or other almost every waking moment... He is hesitant...reticent...thought to be shy, but he isn't. Seemingly lost in thought as he snakes down the hall alone, his thoughts are not a chaotic tangled mess, but a well patterned labyrinth.

No, he's not at all lost, there in his thoughts, ...he's hiding in them.

He's running down, in his mind, the list of what he has to do today and what his concerns are. He's a little worried. He's worried about anyone asking questions. Questions he doesn't want to answer. His professors asking him questions; asking if he's getting the projects done on time, did he try the homework yet? He worries about being late to class, for the halls are very crowded this way. He needs to get to Biology, and soon, he doesn't want someone to sit in the seat he prefers. He feels ill at ease, he doesn't see any familiar muzzles, he doesn't know how he can meet anybody here, and if he does meet any furrs, whom he can trust? He's worried about this; whom to trust. He worries about his mother asking about his lack of girlfriends...girls asking when he's going to ask them out. Boys asking things like, "Wanna make something of it?" or "Aren't you going to fight back?" and "What are you gonna do about it?"

"What are you gonna do about it?" That was bad, that worried him a lot, when they asked that kind of question: it usually meant that he was going to get beat up...again. It was happening right now. Bobbie was about to get cornered by a pack of stoats, one of them was going to ask him a question and it was all going to start going very badly. What seat he gets in Biology won't matter in a minute or two.

Once in a while, change comes abruptly.

They played on the soccer team...or the lacrosse team...or the...the something. They had on identical jerseys, anyway. They had surrounded him before he could get in to safety through the classroom door. "Hey, I'm seein' spots before my eyes, or what?" Bobbie turned his ears down but didn't even look up. A very large stoat suddenly stepped directly in front of him and grabbed his shirt at the shoulder, dragging Bobbie around to face him. The contact startled Bobbie out of his thoughts, "Hey!" He clutched the handles of his knapsack more tightly, his tendons showing bold in the fierceness of his grip; this looked like trouble. Bobbie glanced to the left, (oh, dear!) Not good.

"Gor," said the stoat, glaring at him, "You're the funniest damn looking leopard I've ever seen! Lahs! Here we are, boys," the stoat continued, "Here's our entertainment. Hey, yer new here aren'tcha'?"

Bobbie looked up at the stoat and tried to step back, but the stoat held on tightly. Their clothing was a study in contrasts; the stoat in a yellow, shirt with button-down pockets and cloth pants woven to look like shiny leather, against Bobbie; dressed conservatively in dark grey slacks, burnt orange shirt, and a ruddy brown short waist jacket. All his clothes were clean and neat but not ironed. His ears lopped over rather than upright, making him plain rather than cute.

Like many Dalmatians he didn't hear very well in one ear, but he was very sharp intellectually. "I'm sorry! Say again?" Bobbie glanced to the right, only to see another stoat. Very not good.

"Hey, Boys, he's sorry, an' don't he look it?" said easily the largest stoat Bobbie had every seen, "What's yer name puppy? ....A little shy, eh? Or just looking to pick a fight with us, eh, Small-Stuff?"

Bobbie's ears moved down and back now. A stoat stood on either side of him and one in front. Very not-good and getting worse.

When they each took a step up, he went to step back, and bumped into someone, "Pardon me. I'm sorry." Bobbie turned to apologize to the furr behind him. A stoat. "Hey, lads, he's sorry, again, but he don't look like it, now does he...?"

Oh, this isn't worse than not-good, this is bad, he thought. Four stoats, a weasel, and a badger. Ooooh, worried Bobbie, this is a gang! His ears flattened involuntarily.

"A little runty guy lookin' for trouble? Is that what have we here? Or maybe I should ask ‘what's your breed?' Let me guess...a little white leopard boy? Nope! Can't be a boy, you got no balls, an' ye too puny for a leopard. You can't be a girl, yer not wearin' a dress...I get it now! Your Mother was some Fuzzy Dice and your father was a box of Dominoes! They're both white and with black spots!" Some students had stopped to watch the scene unfold, and the crowd around him laughed. They were all laughing at the joke.

Bullies, not a good thing at all, "Andere Schulen, andrer Drohungen." (New school? New threats!) He twisted the idiom around in his head. He had gotten worried but was now angry, and scared as well.

Bobbie had flicked his ears back and pulled his head down at being surrounded. His anger was building at the insults to his Dad and Mom. "No," he said, "Not that. I just want to...

"Are you contradicting me!? Are you telling me I don't know what I'm talkin' about?"

The Stoat was practically shouting at him now.

Scared of a physical confrontation, Bobbie was trying to appear smaller; pulling his head in toward his shoulders, his ears down and back, ... tail curled up tight between his legs, and his eyes looking down, his back fur just starting to bristle.

"No," said bobby, "Not that. I just want to...I just want to...geg-geg ...to..."

He froze.

"Oy, Bobbie," bellowed a deep loud voice. "There yeh are!" A great mountain of amber coloured fur in vaguely the shape of a lion (only larger) came striding in toward the knot of stoats ringing Bobbie.

James towered over them. He turned to address the lead stoat, "Here, I'm in need to talk to Bobbie, for a minute. I can wait, if you need 'im, but if yer done with 'im, then I'd like a few words, if you're not a-minding?"

They scattered like timid mice, gliding smoothly away without turning their backs toward James. It wasn't that they suddenly magically vanished; they just melted away into the crowd, leaving no trace. When there were no longer any stoats visible, Bobbie exhaled, and breathed a deep sigh of relief, was relaxed if only momentarily, until the huge lion turned his full attention on him.

"Yeh're Bobbie, yer?" it sounded to Bobbie like he pronounced it: "eeuer bobbah, yir?" or maybe "yoooir bobby, eeahhr?"

"Uhn...yes! Bobbie...who I am...I mean...that's me," Bobbie turned sideways and looked at his feet, trying to appear smaller and less interesting. He looked down at the floor tiles and kicked at them with his boot (such a doggie thing to do) not noticing James' paw held out to him, "I'm James...James Leuwenshirt. Happy to meet, sorry to part."

He just stood there, still holding out his large paw. When Bobbie finally noticed that James hadn't left he held his out to shake. James' paw was enormous; his grip was gentle but firm. That the lion had not put on a crusher grip to show Bobbie his strength startled and impressed Bobbie. He glanced up at the lion, really looking at him and was startled again by James; the complete lack of tension around his muzzle and eyes; as if the interaction of chasing off the toughs hadn't ruffled him at all. Bobbie noticed a funny smell as he continued peering into those eyes, so large and so very deep green. They were large, green, serious eyes in a gentle face; calm, betraying no emotion, no inner turmoil. Black edges to the lids and white whites with deep emerald green iris rings centering around large black, black pupils, eyes that seemed...

Bobbie sniffed the air.

He was distracted by that smell, again. The smell of...of...something...not like herbs, but like spices; clove or cinnamon or something, but not that he could identify. It was kind of a sweet smell...not a sweet smell like hot sugar, more like a pungent spice, but not ginger, or clove...not cardamom and also not that pungent... He couldn't name it, but it smelled wonderful ...enticing... His body wanted it. What was it!? What smelled that good? He craved it, craved knowing what it was...

He snapped back. Pay attention, he admonished himself!

James was still talking, "So, I noticed that you'd attracted some attention that seemed unwanted, I hope I read that right. I didn't interrupt anything...did I?" Bobbie didn't respond, so he continued, "So! How do yeh know Country?"

"Know which country?"

"Oh, the stoat; that's his nick name. That lead stoat, he's called lots of things, usually Country, but he's not from the country he's from the city. Country folk don't act like that, anyway. So how do you know him?"

"Oh, Him! Uhn, no, no... nothing. I don't know him, they were just talking, but I don't know them or what they wanted with me, I've never seen them before. Uhn...that I remember. And, uhn...hey! Thanks for that, I really needed some...uhn, I needed, uhn, well thanks for that, uhnmm... I've got to go to class, now." Bobbie started sliding away to the side, into the flow of furrs moving down the corridor.

James caught up in two large steps, "Good, if we don't shake a leg, we'll be after the bell!"

"I'm going to go to Biology, now," Bobbie sputtered, trying to get away, trying to discourage James from talking to him. He was confused! First the bullies, then the lion, then that funny smell, and now he just wanted to be away from everything and let his body settle down. He was a little worried about that. He felt too keyed up, he wanted to relax.

"Yeah, I'm on my way to Biology, too, I sit behind and over one seat from you.... We're in the same class, nah?"

"Oh," said Bobbie, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He was still shaken by the interaction with the stoats, and now had a lion the bullies were afraid of looming over him. "Worse than worse, this is bad-bad," he thought. He whimpered once quietly.

"So, I'm glad I came by you then, because I wanted to talk to you..."

Yeah, This is worse-bad he thought, "You did? I thought you just made that up to get rid of them," he replied to the lion.

"No! Why would I lie? Country does pretty much anything I ask him to."

"Oh," said Bobbie not really understanding. Bobbie just assumed that James was a very talkative bully and that Country was scared of him, too. Bobbie certainly was. James must have out weighed him by close to two and a half times. He towered over the dog, but his muzzle showed no tension and his smile was relaxed and easygoing.

Bobbie started to relax a little; James was clearly not getting ready to attack him, although he kept some level of guard up. No sense in letting his guard down only to get skunked by a friendly furrson.

That memory made Bobbie frown. Yiffstar High, all over again. Please, No! Bobbie sighed, and walked into the classroom with James close on his heels. He sat down and noticed James picked the seat right beside him, displacing the bunny who normally sat there. As he came up to her seat, James smiled down at her, and she blushed and stood up, then moved to sit one seat in back James' chair, smiling...clearly pleased with being asked to do something for James, and still sitting directly behind him. Class went by quickly; Bobbie noticed that James really seemed to know his stuff. He couldn't answer some of the questions that Bobbie could, but still seemed to know some of the answers that Bobbie didn't. Odd...funny-odd. Not what he expected from a bully.

The bell rang; Bobbie stood up to leave and was startled by a huge paw on his arm, holding him back. "Oy, Bobbie," James began, "Look. Mate, I need a study partner. Yeh know your stuff, and yeh know stuff I don't know, yer? I need to get my grades up a bit, and I'm looking for a study buddy, and yeh fit the bill to a T. So meet me after last bell, out by the front doors?"

Bobbie was listening, but mostly he was lost. Very, very lost; he startled at the paw grabbing his arm, panicked at being held back, releived that it wasn't an accusation or confrontation. Bobbie wanted to protest, say something, say 'No,' but the lions face was gentle, sincere, and somehow stern. He didn't want to make James angry, so he didn't say yes or no, just nodded as a kind of self defensive acknowledgement; "I got your message" or possibly, "I'm not ignoring you, I heard what you said." James smiled and nodded back. Oh! Bobbie was lost, here. Those large green eyes; clear, luminous, dark... He felt he was going to hyperventilate any moment now...just pass out. The paw on his arm ... he could feel the heat in the paw pads; it was hot even through his shirt. Oh, it was so long since he'd felt this! James' paw burned where it touched his arm, burned in his heart, burned in his groin... Butterflies danced in his stomach. He hadn't felt butterflies in oh so long; oh this was such a bad sign. He put his ears back and whimpered in fear. He realized what he was afraid of and began trembling. He looked at James' gentle smile; bright, sincere, "I...I have to go..." and, turning away and pulling from James' grasp, he dashed out of the classroom and through the halls toward his next class.

James chucked to himself, not allowing his disappointment to show. His smile twisted into a wry grin as he turned to the bunny whose seat he had stolen. He grinned at her; his smile bright, dazzling, ... She felt confused looking up at his predatory eyes. She froze, feeling she might melt in the intensity of those dark green eyes focusing on her. Bobbie had hurried away leaving the doe as the sole object in James sights. She held still, entranced, like a deer in headlights. She had just one thought that escaped her lips, barely a breath, "What ever you might ask, the answer is 'Yes'," she sighed, ...but the only word he heard was the "Yes."

He took it as a question and so, taking her paw gently in his, he thanked her for switching seats today, and lifting her paw to his lips, kissed the air just above her fur. He let it go and she gasped, looking at the paw as if it were some alien thing, some artifact to be examined, looking anywhere but into those deep green eyes, while she hid her blush, still out of breath, even more so after the sigh. She thought him so handsome, so suave. She just stood there...

The rest of the day passed very quickly, to Bobbie's annoyance. He didn't quite know how to tell the lion that he didn't want to meet with him...that he wasn't interested in a study partner. Except, he had to admit as he walked to his next class, he kind of was. He did like the idea of studying with someone who was clearly on top of the information, as James obviously was, and it wasn't like he had anything to do except his homework, surf the web, or play video games...maybe it was a good thing studying together. Since moving back here he hadn't made any new friends, and hadn't been able to find any from when they lived here before. Eight years had brought a lot of changes. He did need to get to know some one; maybe it was a good thing! Oh, but Please! He couldn't be suckered again! He couldn't get involved with James, as much as his brain said no, his cock throbbed to the beat in his heart, and, as such, his heart said, "Yes, yes, yes!" His brain was lead by his fear, and his fear said, "NO!" And that would have to be the answer.

He believed he could really say it, he could he could say "No," to James. He could do that. He wished that he believed he could really say it.

When the school day had ended Bobbie made his way out to the front doors, and stepping down to the sidewalk, stood there. In his mind, reviewing the days events, bobbie had to sort wheat from chaff within his memories. That the stoats as a collective whole were terrified of James was clear and evident. But as he had calmed down, he thought back and realized that James had not threatened the stoats, James had only asked if he might speak to Bobbie. James hadn't even said, "Right away." The hugeness known as James had just stood there, waiting for a response and they had all run away. James calm and gentle and as well: huge and intimidating! He knew what he had to do; he had to find a way to say "No" and mean it. He remembered how it felt to have James' blood hot paw on his arm, how it held him firmly, and so gently, how he shook Bobbie's hand, firm but gentle. Bobbie groaned; oh, he wanted to have the lion touch him again. But he couldn't risk it, oh this hurt him! He had to say, "No," had to! Bobbie was so conflicted it hurt, his stomach ached with muscle cramp pain, from the fear, from the sadness, from the yearning to be alone, from the yearning not to be alone. He stopped and closed his eyes, breathing hard trying to calm himself. Please, don't throw-up, ....

Opening his eyes he looked around, searching for folk he might know, even just a friendly face in this new school. Just as he was turning to look behind him, a paw fell heavily on his shoulder, "Been looking for yeh."

He whirled around, and was nose to nothing but yellow, topaz, and orange fur. He looked up the bare arm and saw James towering over him, "All set then? I'll drive!"

Dressed differently than before, James started padding toward the parking lot.

Bobbie just looked at the lion, dressed now in a bright green tee shirt and pants the color of antique bronze, and sighed at the smoothly flowing gait of the huge furr, "Aaah!" Bobbie had hurry to catch up, James slowed a little for him and they wended their way amiably to the car. It was an older car, but kept in good shape, its paint was clean and waxed to a mirror shine. "Nice auto," Bobbie mumbled, pretty sure he was saying the right thing. He stepped to the passenger side door.

"Thanks, it was my Mom's," James said matter-of-factly as he unlocked and opened his door. He reached across and unlocked Bobbie's door.

"Oh, it's a sweet classic, what is she driving now?"

James hit the ignition, starting the car, "No, it isn't like that. They kept this one for me after she passed."

"Oh," said Bobbie, wondering what else he might say, but James lapsed into silence.

"Hey, Bobbie? ... We can study at your house today, na?"

"Uhn...yeah, I guess so, no reason why not, I guess, ..." Bobbie thought about it. He was allowed to have a friend or two over. There were a million reasons to say 'No', but he didn't, "Yeah that'll be fine. Mom's not home, but I'm allowed to have a buddy over." He hadn't meant to say that, that his Mom wasn't there; arrggh! He quickly ran down the list of things that he might offer for hospitality to a guest. Ooooh, he hoped that there was something in the cold box for a guest.

"Which is it," asked James?

"Which is what," Bobbie asked back?

"Which number is your house address, so I can drive there?"

"Oh, uhn...3848 Willow. It's off of..."

"Oh, I know Willow. I'm at 14392, at the other end."

Bobbie was impressed. That was where the money lived. He commented, "That's a nice place to own a house."

"Yeah," James countered, "It's nice, but we don't own it...exactly. We kinda' rent it ... sort of ... it's entailed to my Grandfather."

"Who's the 'We' in 'we rent it'," Bobbie asked?

"Right now it's just my father and I, and one or two others, to help my father out. My brother and sister are away at college."

"Your dad has two kids in college and you still have a house that nice?" Bobbie was clearly awed by that much money, or perceived money.

James realized that he needed to dial it down a little. No need to confuse the pup stepping up to the wicket! He growled a little at himself. Seeing a startled movement he glanced over at Bobbie. He was leaning with his back against the door, twisting as far away from the lion as possible, clearly frightened. James laughed once, "Ha! No worries here, Bobbie, I'm not the violent type. I can't imagine I would ever want to hurt you."

Bobbie was not reassured, he felt very ill at ease ... The way James had worded that had left some weasel-room for him, more like legalese than like plain speaking. But Bobbie gradually calmed, or at least visibly relaxed, and sat face forward in his seat, watching the road. Although James was a wonderfully smooth driver, he still worried.

What had he gotten himself into? He felt so conflicted! He liked how smart James was, so confident and handsome, too. But he was so large...dangerous looking, and the bullies were afraid of him, what did that say? He did move smoothly and was as graceful as he was gentle, but Bobbie was still terrified of the past. This knife cut both ways: fear of past mistakes, and fear for the future. James was almost magnetic, what if he became attracted to the lion? O.K. too late -- that didn't work, he already was fighting with himself about that. The way James had charmed that bunny in class into giving up her seat ... well he was probably straight so it wasn't an issue anyway ...

James pulled down to the block and Bobbie pointed out his house, giving James clues by colour. James parked at the curb, pulling far forward so someone could park behind his auto. The small bungalow was neat, the yard trimmed, and the woodwork bright in a shiny crisp paint job. "Yeah, here," Bobbie mumbled.

He opened the car door and got out quickly, and hurried up to the house to unlock the front door. He was nervous again. He didn't like this feeling of dread or doom or what ever it was, ...regardless, it was not pleasant. He unconsciously brought his paw to his chin and rubbed. He was still worrying a little.

Bobbie's nervousness didn't go unnoticed by James, and as he mulled the plans for Bobbie over in his head, he edited and revised them a bit. Stick to the original plan, but stretch out the time line, he thought. Yeah, that should do well, maybe just studying for now, ... there's the ticket.

Bobbie let them in to the house, led James into the living room, turned and held out a paw indicating the sofa and coffee table, "Would you like something to drink? Something cold or hot?"

James sat and spread out his notebook and texts, "Sure, what's offered?"

Bobbie sniffed the air. James looked up to see Bobbie staring at him.

James twisted his head to the side, questioningly, "Ummm?"

"Ummm? Nothing, I'll see what there is, now," he replied and hurried off into the kitchen. James smiled to himself, Bobbie was so cute, just what he wanted! Bobbie's shy nervousness was endearing, his energy and intelligence would make him a great study partner. And Bobbie was so submissive ...--an ideal, uhn ... James smiled to himself and, lacing the digits of his paws together, stretched his arms up over his head until they cracked and snapped, relieving the tension and relaxing. He had not planned it this way; for Country to provide such a marvelous opportunity for James to introduce himself to Bobbie... and put Bobbie so squarely into an obligation for James' rescue. But, if it had been scripted, orchestrated, and rehearsed, it would not have gone more smoothly nor had a better outcome. He should send flowers! He frowned at that thought. He'd sent flowers to Country once, and wouldn't be doing it again. He cut off that train of reminiscing and regrets and focused again on how cute little Bobbie was; such white fur, so white it was almost blue, such nice spots, so crisp, so black, so sharp. And Bobbie kept himself so clean and brushed, he was just a treasure! James changed his train of thought; he didn't want to freak the pup by popping a bone right now. There'd be time later...

Bobbie showed up with some questions about beverages; "We have black tea, green tea, coffee, cola, real-creame soda, and water. Can I get you anything?"

After a brief consideration James selected the unknown, "...you mean creame soda?"

There is a change in the body that happens between getting out of school, and joining the work force, as the body changes from "fast growth" to "slow growth - plus - refinement," the taste buds change from seeking sweet all the time, to enjoying beverages that have a flavor other than sweet. Soda's and pops and ades give way to tonics, and beers, and wines and ales. Ginger ale, the carbonated beverage is not as sweet as a cola, but a "short beer" brewed about 3-7 days is less so.

Bobbie was in turmoil. Everyone knows that your own house doesn't smell, doesn't have any odor at all. Everybody else's house smells uniquely like their house. Smells of their cooking style, their herbs and oils, and spices, deodorants, and everything; but not yours. And here was that wonderful spicy smell, again! First at school, and now here, and Oh! It was subtle. And as he tried to, ... so very carefully, ... sniff about, ... he only discovered the source was James! It was like some strange hypnotic perfume, or some perverse drug that distracted the brain from everything else. Bobbie focused on pouring the drinks. There were only two bottles of creame soda in the cool box. If he used more ice cubes in his drink, then there should be enough with one bottle to get two glasses, and if James liked it, he could have the second bottle, and if he didn't like it, then his Mom could have the other bottle. That was only fair.

He worried about James; what if James is NOT gay, what if he beats up on me? What if he tells everyone?

Bobbie froze. "OMG what if James IS gay!?"

He tensed and then he coughed. He had worked himself into a half panic, "Focus," he mumbled, "Focus on the task, first." Bobbie put the cubes in and then poured in the soda, letting the bubbles fill it up and then subside with a hiss before putting more in, then finally pouring the creame on top. "Fit for a king," he thought as he carried the two glasses out. James took his glass and sniffed at it carefully, not letting the bubbles get into his nose, ... he tasted it and smiled. Bobbie exhaled, ... relaxed visibly, and started drinking from his glass.

"That's right fine, Bobbie. A' course I've heard of it before, but I've not ever had any," said James.

"Oh, I'm glad you like it," he responded, my Mom is funny folks, she wants me to try a little of everything, so I get to try these weird chocolates (and I know I'm not supposed to have them) and real creame soda, and vanilla creame soda and ginger beer from the South Islands...and stuff like that..." Bobbie trailed off, looking into James' eyes.

Damn! His eyes were so green, so gentle, so deep, so calm. He just wanted to trust James; but he wasn't ready. Not yet! Not, ... yet, ... "Oh Dear Green-Man, take this, ... No! Uh, make this, ... no."

"Oh Dear Green-Man, Uh, help!" And with this as the only suitable prayer in his heart, he bit his lip.

James was listening intently to what Bobbie was saying and watching gently, but oh so carefully to how Bobbie was communicating his information. Under such scrutiny Bobbie was clearly not comfortable. He'd stopped talking and upon James' noticing the pause, he encouraged him to go on. Bobbie looked up and into the distance, picking up the thread of his thoughts, and continued. ".... So Mom gets as much fun stuff to experiment with as we can afford; she's taken me to the opera, the symphony, the art museum, the ballet (twice!) and everywhere she can, to try stuff I might like..."

Bobbie felt so odd, so unlike himself, he paused again and tried to analyze the feeling. It wasn't exactly foreign, but it was unusual, like a memory slowly surfacing, an event slowly unwinding and showing itself to the mind...

Oh, Dear Oberon! Now he knew!

James had made him feel so relaxed, so trusting... OH! He had to be careful! Careful! Oh, it had been a long time! Such a long time since Bobbie felt secure, felt his trust would not be abused, ... Now he was scared. He knew what happened when you trusted someone ... well, that was not simple truth, not what happened when you trusted that someone was good. When you placed your trust someone based on what your desires told you and not based on what your heart said, THAT was when trouble started. Bobbie recalled the name for this thing. Oh, what he was doing now was sharing, really just talking, talking with James and getting to know each other. But there was a formal ceremony "The Mint Ceremony," that ceremony where the celebrants sit back to back while holding paws clasped together and tell each other their thoughts and hopes and dreams and fears. This sharing requires the utmost trust to perform, because it is forbidden to lie. Well, at least dogs cannot lie,... Bobbie wasn't so sure about felines. ... Are cats allowed to lie? Bobbie felt weird inside, his stomach tight and achy. Was he so trusting? Trusting enough to share his feelings with a furr he had known for less that four hours. Behavior like that was dangerous, bad things happened.

The Mint Ceremony, ... It had been, ...what? ... How long had it been? Eight years? Eight years since he had had a friend he trusted enough with whom he could share the Mint Ceremony ...?

"Woods Master!" he thought. He had been alone so long it had started to feel normal.

His stomach clenched at the thought that 'alone' felt normal.' The thought of the lost friends; Richard and then Jason, floated up unbidden, and he felt his heart squeeze. Quickly damping down the feelings, he turned to James for distraction, only to have the loneliness well up hard against his attempt to repress his feelings. Woodruff! He felt so vulnerable standing there looking at James. "I'll be right back," he stated and walked into the kitchen.

He hung his head and blinked back a tear. Since he didn't know anybody in school, it had been easy, but it seemed the lion wanted to get to know Bobbie, and that hurt. He hadn't allowed himself to feel alone before, and now the threat of friendship panicked him half to death. He wiped his eyes and looked in the cool box for anything suitable for James. He found a lump of cheese ... Ah! And here were some crackers! Brilliant! He checked the crackers for crispness and, finding them suitable, sliced the cheese, then put the crackers on a plate around the cheese. It looked good, but needed something ... a glance at his Mother's window shelf provided inspiration. Fresh rosemary. He nipped off a sprig and bruised it to release the aroma. "Well done!" he thought, and brought the plate out to put on the table by James. He would have to call off the study session and start dinner for his Mom soon, but oh, not yet...please, not yet...

James noted the cheese, Groenendal, and the crackers, carefully placed, and a garnish, too, that was a nice touch; one of the cooking herbs, he recognized it: Rosemary! He picked it up and sniffed gently, "Fresh, not bought," he thought. Nice touch. He felt honored. Bobbie was trying very hard, and that augured well for a good relationship. That Bobbie lived so modestly and yet gave the best he could, ....

They studied a while longer, and then Bobbie suggested that they close up because his Mother would be home soon and he wanted to have dinner ready. James' stomach had begun to growl, and he thought since no invitation was forthcoming that he would take this time to exit. He packed up his books while Bobbie was getting dinner started, and was just saying to Bobbie how much fun he had and how much he had learned when Mrs. Dalmatziner came in the door.

"Hello! Bobbie?" She called, "Where are you? Do we have company?"

"Yes, I have a School Mate here. James is visiting. I'm in the kitchen making dinner," he replied, "It'll be ready in 10 minutes."

As Mrs. Dalmatiner came in she sniffed the air, and then saw James standing beside the kitchen table. He crossed a large paw across his waist and bowed, "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dalmatziner. I'm a School Mate of Bobbie's; James Leuwenshirt."

He smiled broadly, and she extended her paw to shake. He grasped it in his huge mitt and shook in the manner of dogs, his grasp firm, but gentle. She smiled, a real gentlefurr, she thought. She was intrigued by him, Bobbie had been in school...umm...five weeks...six? And he had not mentioned making any new friends...

By the time 10 PM had come, Bobbie and James were looking at one experience from two different perspectives; Bobbie was thinking how very badly the day had gone, one fright after another, and James was thinking how very well today had gone, just one great thing after another.

James thought that he should feel more gratitude in his heart for Country. The mangy,rabid, malignant, flea bitten stoat had finally done something positive for James, instead of making life more difficult. That was a 'first,' and James thought he should feel appreciation toward him.

But he didn't.

He had seen Bobbie's body posture...that was fear.

James didn't want anybody messing with Bobbie's head.

...Not when James had such plans for him...