"Earning trust is not easy, nor is it cheap, nor does it happen quickly. Earning trust is hard and demanding work. Trust comes only with genuine effort, never with a lick and a promise."

- Max De Pree

"ONCE upon a time there was a king and a queen ,

who were very sorry that they had no children, —

so sorry that it cannot be told.

At last, however, the Queen had a daughter.

There was a very fine christening ; and the

Princess had for her godmothers all the fairies they could find in the whole kingdom (there were

seven of them) , so that every one of them might confer a gift upon her, as was the custom of fairies

in those days. By this means the Princess had

all the perfections imaginable.

After the christening was over, the company

returned to the King's palace, where was pre

pared a great feast for the fairies. There was

placed before every one of them a magnificent

cover with a case of massive gold, wherein were

a spoon, and a knife and fork, all of pure gold set with diamonds and rubies. But as they were all

sitting down at table they saw a very old fairy come into the hall. She had not been invited,

because for more than fifty years she had not

been out of a certain tower, and she was believed

to be either dead or enchanted.

The King ordered her a cover, but he could

not give her a case of gold as the others had,

because seven only had been made for the seven

fairies. The old fairy fancied she was slighted, and

muttered threats between her teeth. One of the

young fairies who sat near heard her, and, judging that she might give the little Princess some unlucky gift, hid herself behind the curtains as

soon as they left the table. She hoped that she might speak last and undo as much as she could

the evil which the old fairy might do.

In the meanwhile all the fairies began to give their gifts to the Princess. The youngest gave

her for her gift that she should be the most beautiful person in the world ; the next, that she

should have the wit of an angel ; the third, that she should be able to do everything she did gracefully ; the fourth, that she should dance perfectly ; the fifth, that she should sing like a

nightingale ; and the sixth, that she should play all kinds of musical instruments to the fullest

perfection.

The old fairy's turn coming next, her head shaking more with spite than with age, she said

that the Princess should pierce her hand with a

spindle and die of the wound. This terrible gift made the whole company tremble, and every

body fell a-crying

At this very instant the young fairy came from-"

Lady stopped when she noted that Tramp had fallen asleep. She let out a half-relieved sigh, happy to not have to admit that she couldn't remember much of the tale beyond that.

She had found it rather peculiar, the way that Tramp would turn over and fuss for hours at a time before falling asleep. When asked about it, he merely responded that without the noise of passing trains in the middle of the night, or the chirping of crickets from a nearby field.

Strange as she had found this, Lady went ahead and did her best to help, offering to tell him fairytales that she had often heard Jim Dear and Darling reading to Junior. "Background noise," she described it as.

Kings, queens, princesses and fairies were a foreign concept to her. Most of the tales she was able to tell were simply words that she had memorized, not meaning much to her.

She blinked wearily at the darkened ceiling before shifting her weight against his body. He mumbled incoherently, but otherwise kept his eyes shut.

"Tramp...what on Earth are you doing?"

Lady stared dumbfounded at Tramp as he sat with one of Darling's slippers by his paws. It's pair could be found just a few paces away, torn, dirty and covered in what was presumably a lazy slobber.

"Just giving my teeth some life Pidge'. That's all. Can't spend much longer eating little bits of mush. It's not good for a dog."

"But those are Darling's slippers."

"Oh they are?" he looked briefly surprised. "And what a fine pair of slippers they are."

And then he ignored her and went back to work, chewing up the second slipper.

"I don't think Darling would be very happy to see you eating her shoes."

"Uh-huh."

Tramp mumbled around the slipper in between his teeth. Lady huffed out a sigh and turned away from him, hoping this wouldn't end up becoming one of his many strange habits. She really didn't want to deal with any sort of scoldings again; not when she had had to carry the burden of his blames several times that week it was beginning to bother her. It didn't help that the portrait of Aunt Sarah in the living room served as a constant reminder of what had happened the last time a dog caused a disaster in a house.

"And what will you do when Darling finds you eating her shoes?"

At that, his head finally rose and he gave her an inquisitive look, "I don't know...what do you usually do when Darling catches you eating her shoes?"

"Tramp, I don't eat Darling's shoes."

For the very first time that morning, Tramp's face seemed to light up in alarm and for a brief moment Lady felt some sense of empathy for him.

"You've never eaten Darling's shoes before? Have you ever eaten a shoe at all?"

And then it was gone.

"Here," he picked up the least torn and ripped of the two and tossed it in her direction. "Never too late to start giving your teeth some life."

AN: Thanks for reading!