Reunions and Reluctant Partings
By TheBucketWoman
Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.
Part One: Sam.
Sam woke up early on his first Saturday off in more than a year. It was taking him a while to grasp the idea that there would be no more sleeping in, not when Ralph needed to be walked. Ralph, a yellow Labrador puppy, amused himself by pulling and munching on the hem of Sam's t-shirt, figuring that he'd wake up before the shirt was gone.
Ralph was technically supposed to be Kerry's responsibility, but Kerry was in New York for the weekend. Therefore, the care and feeding of her little eating machine of a foster puppy fell to Sam. What were boyfriends for, after all?
A cold, wet nose pressed itself into Sam's ear followed by a warm wet tongue. He couldn't wiggle away fast enough. The tongue managed to get to him no matter where Sam went.
"Okay, okay, you evil beast," Sam said. "You win." Ralph's tail wagged in victory. Sam threw on last nights jeans and his sneakers and grabbed the leash and harness off the hook near the door.
"You coming or what?" Sam asked, holding the leash up. Ralph allowed himself to be harnessed, his tail happily whapping Sam whenever possible. He also managed a big sloppy kiss on the mouth before Sam had the chance to get off his knees.
Sam couldn't keep a straight face in the midst of all the slobber and the big doggy grin. This was really going to be impossible. He and Kerry were going to have a little more than a year with Ralph, while they (mostly Kerry, Sam reminded himself) trained and socialized him. After that, he'd go to another trainer who would teach him to do things like picking up specific items and opening doors. Finally, he'd be adopted by someone with limited mobility. And Sam and Kerry would be dogless once again. Unless she roped him into dealing with another one.
Honestly, she'd made it sound so good. They'd be helping mankind, she said. She had even used the word mitzvah.
"You're meshuggah," he countered. "Loco, pazzo, bonkers."
"Out of synonyms yet?" she asked.
"Um...a pancake shy of a short-stack?" Sam said.
"Are you in or not?" she asked.
"Yeah, okay," Sam said. "I'm in."
At the time, he'd figured it wouldn't cost him to say yes. There was going to be a long and involved application process, which could fall apart at any time. So there was no need to worry about bonding with an actual dog and then having to give it up.
Until early one morning a couple months ago when Sam had come back from an eighteen hour shift to be formally introduced to Ralph.
That was probably the sickest coincidence of all—that the dog that they couldn't keep had had to have the name of one of the best friends he'd ever had, one he hadn't seen in better than five years. They emailed each other every once in a while, mainly to let each other know that they were still alive, but had literally not seen each other or talked over the phone since college.
Sam meant to take a minute, possibly this weekend, to email Ralph. He'd get a real kick out of this whole story. It had all the elements: puppies, chewed slippers, hot girlfriend, whipped boyfriend. What else do you need? Sam thought as he stuffed a handful of plastic baggies into his jacket pocket.
Ralph pulled at the leash. That was something that they would have to work on. Also, he never met a kid he didn't jump on or a crotch he didn't try to sniff.
"No, Ralphie, no!" Sam said. Repeatedly. "Stop. Sit."
Ralphie understood "sit." He obliged and looked up at Sam, grinning, tail wagging.
"Good boy," Sam said, rubbing the top of his head. "Now let's go." The puppy got up and followed him enthusiastically. He had a packed schedule of sniffing and territory marking ahead of him.
They greeted the other dogs of the neighborhood, something that was fast becoming routine. Three months ago, he hadn't noticed that everybody walked their dogs at the same time. It was like clockwork, the last walk of the day usually taking place right after the Seinfeld rerun. On their third pass around the block, Ralph took care of business which meant Sam had to pull out one of the baggies. Kerry couldn't clean up after the dog without dancing from foot to foot and saying "Ew ew ew." It was fun to watch. Sam, however, was just out of med school and was doing his internship. Within the past seven months or so, he had had every possible kind of bodily excretion land on him, so a little dog poo barely registered on his ew scale. Not that he didn't keep a little hand santizer spray attached to his keychain. He wasn't squeamish, but he wasn't crazy either.
He got himself a bacon egg and cheese on a bagel, and thinking he was slick, pulled out some biscuits for Ralph. Ralph happily crunched his pre-breakfast snack and then gave Sam the big eyes until he'd successfully conned him out of most of his bacon.
"Don't tell your mother," Sam said, wiping grease and slobber onto his jeans. "Okie dokie, wanna run around? Let's go."
It should be noted that Sam was raised with a succession of cats and a hamster. He liked dogs, but he really didn't know a hell of a lot about them. What's to know? he thought. So he didn't have the strongest grip on the leash when they got to the park. He'd just let up on it for a second, so that he could wrap it more securely around his hand, when a squirrel ran by. There was a sudden tug on the leash and then, before Sam knew what was happening, the leash was flying through the air like a kite, then dragging across the ground.
His heart stopped for a second.
"Shit," he said. "Ralph!" He wracked his brain for commands that the dog knew.
"Stay!" he said.
"Sit!" he said.
"I'm talking to the wall!" he said. "Where the hell did you go, you crotch sniffing son of a bitch? Ralph!"
Part Two: Ralph
As Ralph bent over to tie his shoe, the one which never stayed tied and would be the death of him someday, he heard a familiar voice call his name, but with a really original insult attached, at least as it applied to him. He'd never been called a crotch sniffing son of a bitch before, not even in college. He wasn't sure that he'd heard it right.
"Ralph, I could just kick your furry ass!"
"Now that one I have heard," Ralph muttered. There really wasn't anyone around to get the joke. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little yellow dog run by, leash flapping in the breeze. It stopped in front of another dog, a German Shepherd and it's person and both dogs engaged in a little butt sniffing. The owner of the Shepherd grabbed the puppy's leash while Ralph watched.
Ralph heard "If you get squished by a car, I'll kill you." And a split second before he saw him run by, Ralph finally placed the voice: Sam Stevenson. He really should have known him anywhere. Ralph watched one of his oldest friends in the world run by him and toward his oblivious puppy and the amused woman who owned the German Shepherd.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Sam said to the woman. "I am the worst dog person ever."
"We've all been there," she said.
"I thought there'd be carnage," Sam said. "Ralphie, you demon seed, what am I gonna do with you?"
Seriously? Ralph thought. He named his dog Ralph? I'm not making this up in my head, somehow?
There was one way to find out.
"'Crotch sniffing son of a bitch?'" Ralph asked. "Have you been talking to my ex?"
Sam, who'd been down on his knees, as close to eye level to the puppy as he could get (he still very much towered over it), looked up stupidly and said "What?"
Ralph raised an eyebrow and smirked as best he could, seeing as how he was ready to lose it.
"You're kidding me," Sam said, getting up. The dog's leash was wrapped around his hand three times, Ralph noticed.
"I could say the same thing, dude," Ralph said, before he hugged him. The puppy wanted in on the action, getting up on his hind legs and trying to join the huddle.
They hopped onto the nearest path, the puppy running along between them and looking from one to the other every once in a while, probably to see if either of them had a ball or a frisbee on their person somewhere.
Sam explained that the dog had come with the name Ralph, but that the name actually fit.
"Insert 'look how much he scratches himself' joke here," Ralph said.
"Dude."
"I'm just messing with you," Ralph said.
"I was gonna say: he never sleeps," Sam said. "I have never seen this hound of hell tired."
Ralph was skeptical. "How much time do you spend with Junior over here?"
"Not enough," Sam admitted. "He was my girlfriend's idea. He's actually gonna be a service dog—you see how well he takes direction."
"About as well as I do?" Ralph joked.
"About as well as Derek does," Sam said.
"That's not good," Ralph said. Their old friend Derek was not the sort who dealt well with authority.
"Imagine if I got stuck in a well or something?" Sam asked. "Think this one would go for help? He'd sit with me only until he got bored. Wouldn't even find his way home."
"Well to be fair, you need cats to help you find your way home, everyone knows that," Ralph said.
"True," Sam said. "So, like I was saying, he was Kerry's idea. She works from home, does a lot of freelance writing and stuff, so she's the one who spends time with him," Sam said. "I work these ridiculous shifts, come home, pass out on the bed, and this one wants to play."
"See, this is why I didn't take you for a dog person," Ralph said.
"I like dogs," Sam said.
"Yeah, but you're a cat guy," Ralph said. "Dogs weird you out. They, like, jump around too much."
As if to demonstrate, Little Ralphie tried to jump up on a bench as they passed it, but Sam had a better hold on the leash this time and pulled him back onto the path.
"Yeah, thought you were slick, huh?" Sam said. "Going after the girl with the laptop? I know how you think."
"Dude, you're creeping me out with that," Ralph said. "Which one of us are you talking to?"
"Know what?" Sam said. "I'm not sure either."
They grabbed a bench.
"So what about this girl?" Ralph asked. "Obviously, she likes guys who drool."
"Shut up," Sam said.
"How'd she talk you into this?" Ralph asked.
"I dunno," Sam said. "It's just something she always wanted to do, raise service dogs. Like it was on her list."
"Right alongside the bungee jumping?"
"She's afraid of heights," Sam said. "She had this on a list of stuff she wants to do since she was about thirteen. She told me all about it and, well, you know." He pulled her picture out of his wallet and showed it to Ralph.
She had curly hair, green eyes, olive skin and roughly ten more teeth than everybody else had. And her picture was in his wallet, not just the cell phone.
"I get it," Ralph said, handing it back. "That face asks you to move into an igloo, you pack some extra socks and do it."
Sam blushed a little. "Plus, there's the whole helping mankind thing."
"And this face," Ralph said, indicating his namesake who sat between them, his tongue hanging out a few inches, like a skinny kid's belt.
"What about you?" Sam asked. "Anyone making you do stuff against your better judgment?"
"Nope," Ralph said. He pouted. Ralphie Jr. licked his hand; He went after the puppy with both hands and ruffled some fur. "Too soon to tell, actually."
"Okay," Sam said. "What's that mean?"
"I might have a new boss," Ralph said. "If I don't screw it up, but I've only gone out with her once."
"But you like her?" Sam asked.
"Uh-huh," Ralph said.
"Uh-huh," Sam said. "What's she like?"
"My partner's sister," Ralph said, shamefacedly. "You can guess what I've just had to go through just to take her to the freakin' movies."
"Yeah, I think I might know exactly what that's like," Sam said, smirking.
"Not exactly," Ralph said. "You tried to date the stepsister of a skinny teenage hockey player, who was really more hair than anything. I am trying to date the baby sister of a large Puerto Rican cop."
"Okay," Sam said. "Maybe you win."
"There is no maybe," Ralph said. "I piss her off, the dude shoots me, blames it on a perp."
"He threatened to shoot you?" Sam asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
"Repeatedly," Ralph said. "And so did their Dad."
"Looks like you better not piss her off," Sam said.
"That's what Derek said," Ralph said.
"You talk to Derek?"
"Yeah," Ralph said. "Don't you?"
"A little," Sam said. "Whenever I call him, I can hear him go: 'Sam? Sam...how do I know that name. Hey Case, do we know a Sam?' I think he's trying to tell me something."
"Really?" Ralph said. "What's he trying to tell you?" Ralph cocked his head in mock-puzzlement.
"I dunno," Sam said. "Maybe that he's slowly turning into my Great Aunt Marian."
Ralph had a quick mental image of Derek, orthopedic shoes under his ripped jeans, some old lady glasses slipping down his nose while he tried to do Sudoku. He laughed.
"I'm sure he only goes Auntie because he cares, Sammy," Ralph said. "Don't make him poke you with his knitting needle."
"Oh God," Sam said.
"I mean does he have to drop dead before you call him?" Ralph asked, channeling his own mother. "Would an email once in a while kill ya?"
"Yeah, okay, I get it!" Sam said. "You sound exactly like my Mom, and it's starting to scare me a little."
"I do my best," Ralph said. Ralphie Jr. was watching the joggers pass by, his little furry head on Ralph's knee and his back paws up against Sam's leg. Ralph stroked the head absently as he talked.
"So this girl," Sam began. "Does she have a name?"
"Graciela Romero," Ralph said.
"Yeah, you got it bad," Sam said, imitating Ralph's uncharacteristically perfect pronunciation of the name. "Are you taking her out again?"
"Duh?" Ralph said. He looked down at the puppy on his knee. "What do you think Little Man?"
He bent closer to the dog for a second and got his nose licked for his trouble. "Little Ralphie thinks I should take her to the back alley of my favorite Italian restaurant and nudge her some meatballs with my nose."
"Sure," Sam said. "The owner can play 'That's Amore' on the accordion."
"Actually, she loves stuff like that," Ralph said. "We went to this little place for coffee and there was this old man with a karaoke machine, singing some old Sinatra tune. She ate it up. If I could carry a tune, I would be so in."
"But you can't," Sam said.
"I know," Ralph said. "But I can take her dancing. That's a rare thing."
"Hmm," Sam said. "Kerry's constantly trying to get me to dance."
"Fight the power," Ralph joked.
"Hey if she really wants her feet stepped on, I'm happy to oblige," Sam said.
"Then you can always stitch up whatever damage you cause," Ralph said.
"This is always assuming that I can finagle time off," Sam said. "I don't see much coming to me for the next couple years. This was my one weekend off in months, and I was gonna take her out, but there was some kind of family crisis. She had to scram, so here I am, left holding the dog."
"Admit that you like the dog, dude," Ralph said.
"He's an ugly mongrel and his breath smells like hot dog ass," Sam said. He looked down and gave the dog a scritch. "Yes it does," he baby-talked. "You are so ugly aren't you, ya little leg-humper?"
"You're like three steps away from dressing him up like you," Ralph said.
"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "I'm dead meat. I dunno how I'm gonna give him back."
"Yeah, me neither," Ralph said. "I'd be like 'Dog? What dog? I don't know about any dog.'"
"Then the tail would poke out from under your shirt," Sam said.
"Pretty much," Ralph said.
They had a couple more hours before Ralph had to go home to get ready for work, but in that time, Ralph managed to duck into a bodega and pick up a frisbee. His namesake pretty much fell in love at that moment.
Ralph and Ralph taught Sam a little more about dogs and reminded him how to loosen up in the short time that they had that day. Finally, before Ralph had to leave, he made Sam promise a time or three that he'd keep in better touch than he had been, going so far as to program himself, (and Derek) into Sam's cell phone, so that the next chance they got, they'd get together.
It took a couple of months, but they managed to have a Boy's Nite Out eventually, to reconnect properly.
Then, a few months later, the weddings started. Derek and Casey were first, followed about a year later by Sam and Kerry. Ralph and Graciela brought up the rear shortly before Ralph's thirtieth birthday. By then, Sam and Kerry had stopped raising service dogs. After Ralph, who did exceedingly well eventually, and one more highly successful dog, they decided that they couldn't give any more dogs up, so they rescued a couple of dogs, and a cat from the pound—they had a bigger house by then.
FIN.
A/N: As you can see, I messed with it a little, but the prompt was as follows: Can be about either Emily or Sam. Whoever it is decides to become a foster parent/trainer for service dogs. They live in the city and while in the park one day lose track of one of their newest dogs' (or their first one? It's up to you). They dog's name is actually Ralph and coincidentally, Ralph is in the same park and recognizes whoever it is without them recognizing him first and thinks that they're yelling at him. Include Ralph and said person reconnecting...romantically if Emily and just friendship-wise if it's Sam. Also include a mention of the movies Benji, Homeward Bound, Lady and the Tramp, Lassie, All Dogs Go To Heaven, Look Who's Talking Now!, etc. Basically any movie with a recognizable dog that you want to use, use it. Also mention the dogs on the shows Life Goes On, Little House on the Prairie, Full House, Gilmore Girls, etc. I worked in as many references as I could, but unfortunately could not fit in all of them. I hope the excellent Allie, aka Moonlit-Jeannie, forgives me.
