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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Super Flyweight: 112 to 115 lbs.

Cruiserweight: 190 to 200 lbs.

_ "Life doesn't run away from nobody. Life runs at people." ** _- Smokin' Joe Frazier (1944-2011) Former heavyweight world champion who fought Muhammad Ali three times.**

Only the sound of crickets chirping and the noise of the occasional car passing by could be heard so early in the morning. Everyone was sleeping soundly in the home of Bradley McGregor, until . . .

BUZZ!!!

Bradley awoke quickly, shutting off the alarm on his side of the bed. Carefully, he pulled the covers off of himself, mindful to not wake up his sleeping wife. He no more placed his feet on the floor when he felt Tori's paw on his arm.

"Going jogging?" asked the still groggy vixen.

"Yeah," said Bradley in a whisper. "You go back to sleep, okay?" Bradley leaned over and gave his lovely vixen a kiss on the cheek, causing her to emit a slight moan at the touch. The wolf watched as Tori nestled back down in their bed before he went into the closet to change into his jogging attire.

Bradley walked out to the kitchen where he opened the refrigerator and pulled out two eggs. Closing the door carefully, he went to the cupboard where he retrieved a glass. Quietly as he could, he cracked the eggs into the glass before he went to a kitchen drawer and took hold of a whisk to stir up the eggs. Despite his attempts at being quiet, the wolf couldn't help but notice a small figure walking into the kitchen.

"Hey," said Bradley, still whisking his raw eggs. "What are you doing up so early, little champ?"

Little Martin, Bradley's six year old son stood in the kitchen, still in his pajamas and wagging his red and gray furred bushy tail. "I wanna go with you, Daddy!"

Bradley grinned from ear to ear as he put the glass down and picked up his son. "You do, huh? Well, I'm going for a five mile run, and I think that's a little bit of a stretch for a six year old cub!"

"Awww," protested the little folf as he was taken back to his bedroom. "Please!"

"Sorry," said Bradley with a chuckle. "If I took you on a run this early in the morning, Mommy would chop my tail off and strangle me with it!"

Hearing his father talking about having his tail chopped off was enough to make the young folf giggle hysterically. Opening the door to his son's room, Bradley placed Martin on his bed before giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You go back to bed, okay? I promise that later today, you and I will hit the speed bag. Deal?"

"Deal!" said Martin, who had already started yawning. Bradley pulled the covers over his son, tucking him in and watching him quickly drift back into sleep. Smiling as only a proud father could, he left his son's room, returning to the kitchen. Picking up the glass of whisked eggs, he swallowed down the contents in one gulp. Bradley coughed, sticking his tongue out. He'd always hated the taste of raw eggs, but it was all part of his staying in shape between fights. Growing up in the home of a heavyweight champion, the wolf had learned at a very young age that huge fluctuations in a fighter's weight were a sure way to kill his career. Over time, the changes in weight would erode their reflexes, resulting in the punches having less snap in them as well as diminishing the fighter's stamina. Bradley McGregor had just celebrated his twentieth birthday, and he was determined to hold onto his title as undisputed heavyweight champion of the world for a long, long time. He knew the world had no shortage of young, hungry fighters who were training their asses off to take his crown. He had to stay hungry too.

Opening the front door of his house, the wolf breathed in the crisp morning air, smelling the slight rainfall from only a few hours ago. Before running, he was careful to do his stretches, not wanting to pull a muscle or injure himself. He waited until he was good and limber before he started his run. He looked at the digital pedometer that hung on his sweat pants waist band, making sure that it was reset to zero before pulling the hood of his bright yellow sweatshirt over his head and taking off on his morning run.

In the very distant eastern horizon, Bradley could barely make out the very earliest sliver of morning light. He paced himself as he ran down the street, looking back and forth at both sides of the streets, admiring the many elegant houses that dotted the landscape. Bradley never had a problem waking up early; even when he was young, and he loved going running by himself at this time of the morning. Unlike many who jogged, Bradley preferred the quiet sounds of nature; eschewing bringing an MP3 player or any audio device. It was at this time that he felt a certain spiritual element to his life, like making love to his wife, playing with his son, or spending quality time with his mother and father. This was the time of the day where Bradley realized that getting up and running was the most basic move in maintaining the physique required to stay champion. He listened to the sound of his feet hitting the paved road, found the rhythm in his breathing as he panted. It was almost hypnotic to him, taking him to some ethereal plane of existence. He could feel the sweat roll down his forehead and into his eyes, but never once let it get to him, never let it break his stride as he continued, running, running, running, onward.

Bradley ended his run, but made sure to wind down before stopping completely to protect against the crash of suddenly stopping his run. Panting heavily, he walked in through the front door of his house stealthily and retreated to one of the bathrooms to take a long, hot, soothing shower.

The heavyweight champion turned on the water, letting it get nice and hot before stepping in. He let out a sigh of relief as the hot streams of water hit his body, soothing his aching muscles and washing away the sweat, oil and dirty from his fur. He scrubbed at his fur, getting it nice and clean. Tori often joked that her husband spent almost as much time in the bathroom as she did trying to make himself look pretty. Bradley brushed aside his wife's taunts, saying that the heavyweight champion absolutely had to look pretty!

Getting out of the shower, the wolf dried himself off thoroughly. Once dry, he wrapped his towel around his waist as he finished his morning ablution. Taking his deodorant out of the medicine cabinet, he sprayed his arm pits, took his toothbrush and cleaned his teeth, wanting to keep them pearly white. He finished his morning ritual, but before changing into the clothes he had brought into the bathroom, he removed his towel and observed his naked form in the mirror. Flexing his arms, he admired his build.

"Damn," said the wolf with a proud smirk. "I do look good!"

With his cleansing now complete, Bradley walked out to the kitchen wear Tori was making breakfast. Little Martin sat at the table, wagging his tail as soon as he set eyes on his father.

"Morning, Daddy!" he said joyfully.

Bradley ruffled his son's ears before going over to Tori. The vixen stood over the stove as she baked pancakes for her son. Bradley put his arms around his vixen, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Morning, my foxy lady," he said in a smooth, sensual voice.

"Morning, champ," she said with a grin.

Bradley carefully moved his paws down his wife's body, resting them on her rump before giving it a slight pinch. Tori jumped up slightly at the sensation.

"Ow!" she yelped. "Bradley!"

Her husband gave her his best wolfish grin, though she continued glaring at him. "Oh, don't give me that look. You know you like it, Tori."

"Go sit down next to Martin if you can't behave yourself," ordered the vixen. Bradley gave an exasperated sigh, flopping down on the chair next to his son. Once more, he ruffled the folf's ears playfully.

"Morning, little champ," said Bradley. "Did you tell Mommy that you got up early because you wanted to go running with me?"

"Did he?" asked Tori, turning around to look at her husband and young son.

"He sure did," spoke Bradley with pride. "Looks like he'll be the next McGregor to be a champion. Isn't that right, Martin?"

"Yep!" proclaimed Martin, flexing his arms and making his parents laugh. Little Martin had always tried to do everything his father did. He often accompanied the older McGregor to the gym, watching him workout. Bradley was rather surprised that his boy never got bored watching him train. He was fixated on what his father did.

"He certainly has the drive to follow in your footsteps," said Tori as she brought a stack of pancakes over for Martin, who happily wagged his tail at the sight of them. The vixen applied butter and hot syrup to the stack before her son went to work on polishing them off. Bradley didn't eat pancakes, as he always kept himself on a strict diet, even when he wasn't in training camp.

"You looking forward to having guests over tonight?" asked Bradley, stretching his arms.

"Yes, although I'm surprised that Will accepted your invitation. It's not everyday you have someone over at your house after you break their jaw."

Bradley shrugged. "He was never bitter or angry at all when I talked with him. Besides, it was a prize fight, honey. Things like that can happen. I mean, if he had to break my jaw to drop me to the canvas, I'm sure he wouldn't have hesitated to do so."

The vixen gave a worried sigh. She'd grown up watching boxing with her father, and new what her husband was saying was true. She was also aware that boxing rules were stricter than they'd ever been, with safety measures in place like the Standing Eight Count, Neutral Corners, the ability for the referee to stop the fight if one fighter could no longer defend himself. Still, as a wife, she worried about the safety of the male wolf she loved so much.

"You're probably right," said Tori. "I guess if he'd broken your jaw, I wouldn't have to listen to your smart mouth as much."

Bradley stuck his tongue out at his wife, and little Martin laughed at his parents behavior. Tori and Bradley were always joking around with each other, feigning insults and teasing.

"It will be quite the little gathering tonight," said Tori. "Your parents, Will's wife and two kids. We'll have three heavyweight champions under one roof!"

"Three undisputed heavyweight champions," corrected Bradley. "Give us the credit we're due, madam. Will, Dad and I have each held all four belts at one time."

"Yes, I know," sighed the vixen, rolling her eyes at her husband's nit-picking. "The World Boxing Association, World Boxing Council, World Boxing Organization and the International Boxing Federation! I know, Bradley, I know."

"Don't you forget it either!" Bradley ordered, waving his paw at her.

"Daddy," said Martin. "Mr. McCallister has kids?"

"Yes, twins, in fact," stated Bradley. "They're six years old like you."

"What're their names?" asked the folf.

"The boy's named Oliver and the girl's named Olivia. Hopefully you can become good friends with them."

In truth, neither Bradley nor Tori was worried about Martin making friends. The folf was naturally friendly; not knowing a stranger. His parents actually had to teach him to be weary of beasts he didn't know, explaining to him that not everyone in the world was his friend, and that there were some beasts who might actually hurt him. They were just as careful to explain to him that most beasts were not like that.

"I'm going to go out back after you two are finished with breakfast," stated Bradley. "No reason I can't get some more exercise in before this evening."

"You gonna hit the speed bag?" Martin asked eagerly.

"You bet," said Bradley. "Don't worry; you're coming with me, little champ!"

Bradley spent the next several hours in the gym that had been built behind his house. He lifted weights, jumped rope, hit a series of heavy punching bags, shadow boxed. The heavyweight champion even went outside for an hour to chop wood. Little Martin showed great patience in waiting for his father to get to hitting the speed bag. Bradley absolutely loved the quality time he spent with Little Martin; showing the young folf at an early age that great accomplishments require very hard, dedicated work. Even at six, the folf showed great promise, as Bradley had already taught him several punching patterns for working the speed bag. The hybrid half fox half wolf took to it like a fish in the water; smoothly firing away punches and concentrating on his task like a professional. As Bradley watched his six year old son work out, there was no doubt in his mind that the young folf would follow in his footsteps. Just as he had told his wife when Bradley was only an infant. "He's a McGregor; that means he's a fighter!"

"Very good, son," said Bradley, complimenting his boy on a job well done. "But you and I need to go inside to get ready for the McCallisters arrival."

"Aw," moaned Martin. "Do I gotta take a bath?"

"Yes, you do," said Bradley, putting a paw over his nose. "You stinky folf!"

Martin playfully shoved his father. "Well, you're a stinky wolf!"

'I'm sure I am," said Bradley. "And Mommy isn't going to put up with two stinky boys in her house! Bradley picked up his son and put him on his shoulders as he walked out of the gym. "Come on, we're gonna go take a bath!"

Once Bradley had turned professional and had earned enough money from his fights, he insisted that he and Tori should get a live in domestic maid to do all the cleaning and cooking. Tori wasn't keen on having a non-family member living in their house, and she had always loved doing the cooking. So, the couple compromised and hired a maid who came in Monday through Friday for several hours to take care of the housework. Mrs. Matilda Jones, a middle aged black bear had now been in the employ of the McGregors for the past year, and she was happy to come in on a Saturday at double her normal rate to prepare the house for Bradley and Tori's guests that evening.

"Here you go, Matilda," said Bradley as he counted out the money he paid her. "And take an extra fifty for doing such a wonderful job."

"Oh my," said the black bear. "Why, thank you, Mr. McGregor!"

Bradley opened the door for her as she said farewell to Bradley and Tori. Little Martin waved good bye; as he loved having the black bear around for company. Matilda was intensely fond of Little Martin, and would have gladly worked that day at her normal rate if only to be around him.

"She's a keeper," said Bradley.

"No argument here," said Tori, giving her husband a quick kiss. "They should be here any minute now."

"Yeah," said Bradley. "I have to admit, this might be a little awkward; having Will over in our house. I mean, I did break his jaw."

Tori put her arm around her husband, trying to comfort him. "Remember what you said; he wasn't upset about what happened, and it was a prize fight."

"You're right," said Bradley. "I might want to duck when I answer the door."

No sooner had he spoken those words, when the doorbell rang. Nodding to one another, Bradley went over to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it to let the McCallisters in.

"Hello!" said Bradley. "Come in, make yourselves at home!"

Will didn't have any look of anger or resentment at all as he gave Bradley a hardy paw shake. The gray wolf was then introduced to Will's wife and kids.

"Brad, this is my lovely wife, Johnna, and our two kids, Oliver and Olivia."

Bradley noticed that just like Will, Johnna and the two pups had arctic white fur. He smiled at them. "You've a nice looking family, Will. I should introduce you to my lovely wife, Tori, and our son, Martin."

Johnna and Tori greeted each other, acting as though they had been friends for years. Little Martin wagged his tail as he said hello to Oliver and Olivia, who weren't quite sure what to make of him. They looked at Tori and Bradley, noticing that Martin's parents were different species.

"Um, what are you?" asked Oliver.

"I'm a folf!" Martin said proudly. "My Mommy's a fox and my Daddy's a wolf! I'm sly and I howl! Owooooh!"

Everyone laughed at Martin's line, and Oliver and Olivia no longer felt any awkwardness towards him. Martin urged them to come check out his room, and the three kids were off in a dash. Will and Johnna smiled at the three new friends.

"Cute kid," observed Will.

"Did you teach him that line?" asked Johnna.

"Oh, no," said Bradley. "That's something he made up on his own. My boy's pretty clever! Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how's the jaw?"

Tori facepalmed at her husband's question, but Will simply put a paw on the injured aread and rubbed at it. "It's good," he said with a grin. "I don't even remember feeling any pain when it happened because you knocked me unconscious."

"What about at the hospital?" asked Bradley.

"Oh, he was so doped up on painkillers that he didn't feel anything," said Johnna.

"That's true," grinned Will.

"You said some pretty silly stuff when they had you on morphine, dear," said Johnna. "I should have recorded you."

"Now, that's a YouTube video that would have definitely went viral!" observed Bradley. Everyone laughed hysterically.

As Martin was busy playing with his new friends in his room, Tori was showing Johnna around the house, but Will wanted to see the gym in the back of the McGregor's property. Walking through the trail that had been cut through the woods, the two fighters arrived at the newly construed building. Opening the doors to the gym, Bradley flicked on the lights. The buzzing of the gym lights could be heard as they slowly brightened to their full luminescence. Will looked around, seeing the boxing ring in the middle of the floor. Along the walls were several heavy bag, free weights, a treadmill, an rowing machine and everything else that would make a proper boxer's gym.

"Wow," breathed Will, sincerely impressed as he looked around the premise. "This is quite the place you've got here, Brad."

"Thanks," said Bradley. "Oh, you need to see this over here!"

Along with all the equipment inside the gym, Bradley had decorated his new sanctuary with boxing memorabilia that he'd been collecting his entire life. As the son of the former undisputed heavyweight champion, the gray wolf had special access to autographed gloves, promotional posters, tickets from famous fights, and many other items. Brad and Will walked passed the trophy case that held his four world title belts, along with the many Golden Gloves trophies he'd won as a teenager before arriving at Bradley's favorite picture. Will's jaw dropped as Bradley showed him a poster of his fifth birthday part. In the picture, the five year old Bradley was wearing a birthday hat as he sat on the lap of a large lion.

"Whoa, whoa whoa!" exclaimed the white wolf "Is that who I think it is?"

"It is indeed," said Bradley with a smile. The lion in the picture was a former heavyweight champion himself, dubbed "The Greatest" by the boxing world, he was Mufasa Ali.

"You're Dad got Mufasa Ali to show up at your birthday party," said Will in hushed awe as he slowly ran his paw along the enlarged photo.

"One of the many perks of having a heavyweight champion for a Dad," chuckled Bradley.

"I'm jealous of you," said Will, though no bitterness could be detected in his voice. "I would have done anything to have Mufasa Ali show up at my birthday party when I was a kid!"

"I never realized how privileged I was until a few years ago," admitted Bradley. "You, my Dad . . . most fighters, they come from the worst circumstances."

"Don't I know it," said Will. "My Dad left my Mom and my brothers and sisters when I was three. Mom had to work three jobs to feed us and put a roof over our head. I remember going to school with holes in my clothes and shoes, having to eat bologna sandwiches everyday. It was rough."

"I'm sorry," said Bradley.

"Don't be," said Will. "It was because of living like that that made me such a determined fighter. I didn't want my kids to have to grow up in poverty like I did. Man, they probably wouldn't even believe me if I told them that I grew up like that!"

"Then you've done a good job as a parent," said Bradley, putting a paw on Will's shoulder. Despite having told Bradley not to feel sorry for him, he could see the hurt in Will's face as he was obviously reminiscing his difficult childhood. Bradley decided it was time to change the subject to something more uplifting.

"So, you're really going to do it?" asked the gray wolf.

Will looked around the gym, seeing that the two would have everything they needed to start their future training camp. "I promised Johnna that I would retire after my fiftieth fight, and I intend to keep that promise, but I don't want to leave the world of boxing just yet. I still want to hear the crowd roaring, see the fighters throwing punches. I want to see the look on a new champion's face when they hand him a world title belt."

"I can take that as a yes then?" asked Bradley, grinning slightly.

Will returned his smirk as the two grasped paws and shook. "Yeah, I'll be your new trainer, Brad. But more than anything, I want to be your friend." "I'd like that," said Bradley, giving his new trainer and friend a huge hug.

It wasn't a coincidence that Bradley had invited the McCallisters over on a Saturday, as that was "Fight Night" in the world of boxing. The McGregor's enormous living sported an equally enormous high definition television with state of the art surround sound. Not only would Bradley, Will, Martin and Oliver be watching the fights, but Bradley's father, the elder Martin had joined them as well.

"So, what's your prediction on tonight's fight, Mr. McGregor?"

"Oh, don't call me Mr. McGregor, Will!"

"Can I call you Dad?" joked Will, making Bradley laugh.

"Sure. I bet I'd like having you as a son better than Bradley."

"Hey!" snapped Bradley. "I heard that!"

Just then, Little Martin came running out of his bedroom and into the living room, jumping onto his father's lap. "Daddy, Daddy!" whined the folf cub.

"Whatee, whatee?" joked Bradley.

"Olivia keeps trying to kiss me!" he groaned.

"Sounds like she wants to be your girlfriend, son."

"Daddy!" whined the folf cub even louder.

Olivia, giggling, ran out into the living room. Spotting her, Little Martin hid behind his father's tail. Bradley found the whole scene amusing, but Will thought it best to have a talk with his daughter.

"Olivia, sweetheart, you need to stop trying to kiss Martin. He doesn't like it., okay?"

"I think he's cute!" giggled the white she wolf cub.

"Olivia," said Will in a sterner tone. "Don't kiss him, understood?"

"Okay," pouted Olivia.

"Martin, Olivia's not going to try and kiss you anymore. So why don't you two go back to playing with Oliver, okay? The fights will be starting soon anyway."

Martin reluctantly came out form his hiding spot and went back to his room with Olivia, all the while eying her with caution. Bradley, Will and the elder Martin all got a good laugh out of it.

"Mark my words," said Martin. "Little Martin and Olivia are going to end up getting married one day."

"Oh, Dad," said Bradley. "How can you know that? They're only six!"

"Trust me," said Martin. "The McGregors and McCallister will be united by those two one day!"

"I bet their son would be a hell of a fighter, right Brad?" asked Will.

"All I know is that little Martin better not be producing any sons for a long time," warned Bradley.

"Yeah," said Bradley's father. "He needs to wait until he's at least thirteen, just like his Dad did."

"Dad!" yelled Bradley.

Olivia didn't try to kiss little Martin again, and an hour later, all the boys were out watching the evening's fights. First up, a unification bout. Smedley Townshend, a squirrel from the United Kingdom fought Pierre Montreaux, also a squirrel, from France in the Super Flyweight weight class. Martin predicted that Townshend would floor Montreaux in the third round, thus adding the WBA tittle to his WBC title. Bradley and Will were both stunned when Martin's prediction was accurate. Townshend gave the French squirrel a huge left hook to the chin in the third, knocking him to the canvas. Montreaux tried getting up, but kept falling down and was counted out.

"Did you fix that fight?" Bradley joked with his father. The elder Martin had just started his own promotional company, and Townshend was one of the first fighters to sign with him.

"Nobody went in the tank for that, smart-alec," said Martin, giving Bradley a swat on the head.

Next up was a cruiserweight bout. No title was at stake, as it was simply an eliminator bout. Martin jokingly called it the "spotted bout" as Charlie Dogan, a cheetah from the United States fought Lazlo Zoltan, a leopard from Hungary. Martin said that the fight would go the distance, as neither fighter was known for having tremendous knockout power. Additionally, he stated that Zoltan would get a unanimous decision, and he did!

"What's the third fight?" asked Will, who had not looked up any of the information regarding that evening's fights.

"Klaus "The Kaiser" Schmidt, a hyena from Germany takes on Stanislaw Zielenski, a brown bear from Polan for the IBO heavyweight title.

"The IBO," scoffed Bradley. "They're not even a major sanctioning body!"

"They might be oneday," said Martin. "Zielenski holds the title, but I guarantee you that Schmidt is going to take him out in less than four rounds.""Really? How do you know?""I've seen that hyena before. He's got a very tricky style, and Zielenski might be bigger, but he's not fast enough to keep up with him. That bear's gonna run out of gas, and then Schmidt will move in for the kill.""We'll see," said Bradley.Just as with the previous tow fights, Martin's words were proved to be true. Schmidt let Zielenski go on the offensive for the first two rounds, with the bear even managing to get in some good shots, but it was all for naught. By the beginning of the third round, it was obvious that the bear had slowed down considerably and Schmidt moved in to finish him off. The muscular hyena threw a series of left hooks and right uppercuts into Zielenski's chin, snapping his head back. The brutal assault ended with the bear falling face forward into the canvas, barely able to move from the pain that had been inflicted upon him. "You're the best, Dad," said Bradley as he watched Zielenski being counted out.

"Let me make one more prediction, son." said Martin, a smug look on his face. "When they go to interview him, he's going to call you out!"

"You think so?" asked Bradley.

"I'd bet on it," said the elder Martin. "You've got what he wants."

After Schmidt was awarded the IBO heavyweight title, the commentators entered the ring to interview him. The German hyena, bragged about his victory, and with perfect English, he offered the challenge to Bradley McGregor.

"I want that wolf's title!" growled the hyena, sweat still dripping form his fur. "If he's man enough to face me, I'll fight him anywhere, anytime! I bet he's watching me say this right now! Come on, little wolf pup! Come fight a bigger man than you!"

Bradley wasn't phased at all. He grinned at Will, who nodded in agreement. Looking over at the elder Martin, Bradley nodded to his father. "So, can you make this fight happen?"

Martin pulled out his cell phone. "Sure, where do you want to fight? MGM Grand? Caesar's Palace?"

"Nope," said Bradley. "Get me Madison Square Gardens!"

"Ah," said the elder Martin as he was busy trying to contact some of his boxing associates. "That was always my favorite place to fight!"

Bradley wasn't about to back down from a challenge delivered across the entire world. He was going to defend his title against the loud mouthed hyena, and if he had it his way, he'd be adding a fifth world title belt to his record!