"Well, Zuma, have they had 'the talk' yet?" Jethro asked as he finished the cookie Zuma had offered him.

"The talk?" Zuma paused in grooming Rocky. He was still a little in awe of his cousin. Uncle McGee belonged to Jethro and was big and strong. He worked for the military before retiring and told such interesting stories. "We talk all the time."

"No, Zuma. 'The Talk'. … When do you see Dr. Elttilood again?"

Zuma flinched as he thought about the visit. He didn't like vaccines. Even though Mommy had cuddled him while it happened, it stung. Zuma had felt a bit off for a couple days. "Not for a couple months, Mommy said."

"You'll be what, almost nine months?"

"Uh-huh. Would you like to chew on Rocky awhile?"

Jethro eyed the raccoon carefully. It was obvious he was the pup's special friend and he was honored that Zuma made the offer. "I think I'll stick to this leather bone, but thanks. You'll be about the right age, then."

"Right age for what, Jethro?"

"Well, Zuma." Jethro pushed the leather bone away. "When puppies get about nine months, their pet parents have to make a decision. They have to decide whether or not to have their little one neutered."

"Neutered? What's that, Jethro?"

"Well, when you get a bit older, you'll start looking at girls in the park."

"Ewww…. Girls puppies are gross. They want to lick on you and order you around." Zuma snorted. "My mommy grooms me and makes sure I smell good. Most of them stink."

Jethro chuckled in a deep rumble. "They won't always. You'll see a girl and she'll smell so sweet. You'll just want to follow her anywhere."

"Not me. Girls are icky."

Jethro leaned over and gave the pup a lick on the top of his head. "Maybe you'll be like your mommy and daddy."

"Stop that, Jethro! You got spit in my fur." Zuma rubbed furiously with his paw. "What does this have to do with neutering?"

"Well. When you reach that age and you and the little Zumay go off for some fun. You can create puppies."

Zuma looked at him in confusion. "I thought you need a mommy and daddy for that."

"She would be the mommy and you, my Zuma, would be the daddy."

"No way. I'm too young. There's so much I haven't done. Mommy!"

"Calm down, pup. It's a long way off, yet. And it doesn't have to happen."

"It doesn't?"

"Nope. See that's what 'the talk' would be about. See your mommy and your daddy can decide to have Dr. Elttilood do a little operation."

"Like Mommy had?" Zuma remembered Mommy's back.

"Not that bad. Anyway, Zuma. The doctor makes a small cut and then … no puppies, ever."

"Wow! That's good isn't it?"

"Well, it also means no girls."

Zuma looked at him. "Is that good?"

Jethro paused to gnaw on the bone. "It can be. If that is what happens, you'll do fine."

"Did you have the operation, Jethro?"

"No, Zuma. I didn't. I worked for the Navy and I was left intact."

"Do you have puppies, Jethro?"

"Not that I know of, Zuma."

"You could have puppies that don't know you're their daddy?"

Jethro hung his head. "There was a time or two, I acted a little… rashly. But, nobody's parent has ever called McGee, so… I don't really know. If I did have a pup, I'd want him to be just like you. McGee has talked about me having the operation but at this time, he hasn't decided to. Now your Auntie Abby, she keeps nagging McGee about it. Gives him a lecture about unwanted puppies."

"Unwanted puppies?"

Jethro smiled at his little cousin. "You and I are lucky, kid. Your Auntie Abby saved me from the death penalty for a crime I didn't commit. Back then, people called me 'Butch' and I tried to live up to it. First time I met your Uncle McGee, ooooh, I got a piece of him. It was Abby who gave me your daddy's name. Told me how good and honorable he was. So I watched. Found out being tough didn't have to mean being a bully. I decided right then I was going to change. Abby talked me into staying with McGee. He's been good for me." Jethro gnawed on the bone as old memories flashed in his mind.

"Anyway, Zuma. A lot of puppies don't have it this good. There are puppies on the street, no home, no toys, no food but what they find in the trash. When they are sick, there is no doctor or anyone to help out. Like McGee did when your paws were hurt. Sometimes people pick them up and take them away. They're never seen again. I've heard rumors…" Jethro shook his head.

"What kind of rumors?" Zuma shivered at the thought of being on the street.

"Now don't you worry about those." Jethro nudged him. "You never have to worry about that. Your mommy and daddy love you so much. You'll never be like them. If you don't have the operation, you don't be rash. Don't go around with all the girls. You wait till your Mommy and Daddy pick out someone for you. If you have puppies, you care for them. You hear, you be a good daddy. Remember you're Agent Zuma," Jethro teased.

Zuma grumbled. "I can't go anywhere without people wanting to have a picture or pat me. It's a full-time job trying to keep my fur flat with all the ruffling."

"You're doing a lot of good. I heard McGee and Abby talking about you giving gifts to the local shelters. A lot of puppies are being taken care of because of you. Can I have your autograph?" Jethro joked trying to change the subject. He didn't want to give the young pup nightmares or himself.

"Stop that." Zuma head butted his cousin.

"Oh, you think you're big now. You want to wrestle, hey?" Jethro rose and shook himself. "Bring it on, runt."

"Who you calling a runt?" Zuma pulled himself up to his full height.

"You say something, peewee? Can't hear you all the way down there."

Tony and McGee were sitting on the patio and the commotion made them look up from their beers. The smaller dog was chasing the Jethro around the yard.

"They make me feel hot just watching them."

McGee sighed. "You should have seen Jethro at the park. Heat never bothered him a bit. I thought they were just going to lay in the shade and chew the toys. Wonder what made them change their minds…"