A/n: In my defence, I've been given morphine for my back pain and this idea just came to me one night while I was flying high… Big shout out to Moonsgoddess (if she's reading this!) for her continual insights regarding canine behaviour and her wonderful hugs. Love you chick!
Mudgie
A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself - Josh Billings
Mudgie lay on his back, all four paws in the air. He loved these lazy early mornings, when She was up but He wasn't. She had been away for a long time, and He had been miserable, but now She was back and that meant early morning belly-rubs with a distinct possibility of bacon. Bliss.
Humans were strange animals. They came in different shapes and sizes, much like dogs; some had different markings or colouring, and like dogs, they could interbreed despite those differences. Some of the results proved that not all matches were necessarily ideal or wise, but that wasn't why they were strange.
It was their peculiar mating rituals. Mostly, mating occurred in the sleeping area – which was weird to start with, but it could also be in or around the main living area of the territory. Occasionally, it was outside, but this seemed to involve whispering, giggling and much furtive glancing around, at least until they really got into the swing of things.
They had different strategies, depending on what the outcome was meant to be. Some of His females had only visited once. Some hadn't at all, the only evidence being their scent on His clothes and body when He came home. That kind of mating was casual, almost opportunistic, and the ritual demanded very little. Food and drink were sometimes involved, but didn't seem to always be necessary. Some of the long journeys when He had taken Mudgie with Him in the past, had involved a virtual revolving door of females all willing to mate with Him; apparently without any kind of chasing or ritual at all.
The ones that stuck around longer tended to involve a bit of chasing first. That at least, Mudgie understood. It made sense. How else were you supposed to prove you were good enough? Sometimes there was rivalry for the female too, which was also perfectly logical. Wasn't that the whole point?
But even then, with the complete ritual observed, none of them had stayed very long. Until Her.
Her scent had been on Him for a long time before Mudgie had met Her. She matched Him perfectly, His ideal mate, and suddenly everything had made sense. They complemented each other in a way they would never find with any other partner. That was how mating worked for humans, and that was why they were strange. Regardless of any casual mating behaviour, they had look for a life-partner, another human to stay with for the rest of their life as a permanent mate.
From observation, it seemed that this was actually quite difficult. Many humans never found their life-mate and remained alone, or settled with someone less than ideal. Some didn't appreciate humans of a different gender, preferring to find one of their own to spend time with. Some humans were just built wrong, smelling and acting as one gender, but presenting physically as quite another. That had to make it harder for them to look. From an evolutionary standpoint, it was an incredibly awkward way of going about things.
His human had looked extensively for His life-mate, sometimes more than once a day, for most of Mudgie's early life. It had tapered off in later years, the mating becoming more and more infrequent as He lost the will to search any longer. Some of His females in that time had to be sent packing, in Mudgie's official role of guardian to his human. Everyone knew humans were intellectually challenged and needed looking after, and He obviously hadn't been able to sense that those females had smelled untrustworthy and deceitful.
She had been injured, the first time they'd met. It had been almost eighteen months since Her scent had started to regularly cling to His clothes, long enough that She was no longer a stranger, yet it was the first time He had brought Her home. They had mated once, quite a long time previously, but not since. Mudgie remembered being very confused about that. Human females didn't go through heat the same way bitches did, but he could smell Her interest in Him over Her anger as clearly as he could smell His interest in Her over His shame. They had to realise that the pair-bond had already formed, surely? Even humans weren't that oblivious of the world around them. But they didn't act on it, instead engaging in an antagonistic sparring match which resulted in both of them leaking around the eyes. They eventually fell asleep on the couch, but when Mudgie roused them to go to bed, hoping perhaps they'd get the message and start mating, they went to bed and straight back to sleep. Odd creatures.
The ritual had continued, without any mating. She'd started to come on guard patrol with them in the countryside surrounding His territory; cementing Herself as the alpha female of their tiny pack the first time She did so by proving Herself in battle against Him. They were only delicate humans, so they fought their test of dominance with sticks rather than tooth and claw, but the intent was definitely the same.
She hadn't visited His home all that often, even after winning Her place as alpha, but whenever She did, both their scents would sharpen acutely with mating pheromones. In the past, Mudgie had observed Him with females that only mildly interested Him, and the pheromones had been barely enough to detect. He would pay lip-service to the ritual, then mate with them anyway. This one had Him all but salivating, yet He had held Himself back from mating with Her. Weren't humans peculiar?
He kept holding Himself back too, time and time again, and Mudgie was finally sure that it was going to have to be Her to break the deadlock. They got very close to managing it, several times. She'd turned up one afternoon at home while He was out, bundled all of Mudgie's belongings into a bag and transported them and him to Her territory. Mudgie had been rather hoping that meant they were finally denning together, but it proved temporary. He had been exhausted for weeks, and She was simply doing exactly the same thing as Mudgie had been trying to do. Look after Him. When it was done, He and Mudgie moved back into His territory, leaving Mudgie nearly growling with frustration.
Just before She vanished, She had been sad and He had brought Her home with Him again. They had been talking on the sofa and there had been this brief moment when they seemed to be perfectly in sync. They had stared at each other for longer than they probably realised, but then He had backed off. Again. So close. Mudgie had curled up in his bed by the kitchen in a huff that night, frustrated to the extreme.
Hoping that perhaps that moment might lead to another one soon, one they wouldn't be able to resist, Mudgie had been eagerly anticipating Her next visit; possibly almost as much as Him, who also seemed to have finally realised the time had come to stop chasing. They waited and waited, and…nothing. He didn't seem overly worried at first. The longer She was absent however, the less calm He was. He took to pacing at night, wondering aloud about Her whereabouts and well-being.
Something had happened around that time, something that profoundly changed Him. He smelled desperately sad, He slept less, and drank more of the smelly-amber He kept in the cupboard in the living area. He was short-tempered and didn't cook very often, which meant no tasty morsels to steal while He wasn't looking. Then He stopped talking about Her entirely, and that was when Mudgie realised that She might not be coming back. His human had suffered the loss of his life-mate, without even having properly mated with Her.
Given the cognitive deficiencies of humans, there hadn't been much Mudgie could do for Him, other than offer silent support and warm physical reassurance. Anything else would be lost on Him – humans weren't the sharpest noses in the litter, after all. It was amazing they'd made it beyond the cave-dwellers his dam had told him and his litter-brothers and sisters stories of, those stories passed down from generation to generation from the first wolves that had decided humans really did a helping hand in order to survive.
Somehow, She had returned, long after He had given up hope of ever seeing Her again. It had been an emotional reunion, and Mudgie had been rather pleased to note that their reticence about mating seemed to have vanished. As the pack travelled to His second territory, the smell of their combined desires had been so overwhelming he'd had to stick his nose out the window for some relief. In the few hours between Him dashing in for a flying visit to talk to the female who kept His territory clean, and picking Mudgie up the following morning, they had mated several times and positively reeked of it.
That behaviour didn't stop. It seemed they were making up for lost time, or perhaps He was aware His time was running out to sire pups. It was a shame that She would never be able to give Him any, because they would have been beautiful. Her scent made it clear that she lacked some of the attributes necessary to carry pups to term, but it didn't stop them trying anyway. Mudgie wondered if they knew. Humans couldn't tell, apparently, until repeated mating failed to produce a litter. They must have some idea, because She had fighting scars across her body and forelegs, and wounds taken in battle often had long-term consequences. Even humans knew that.
For three weeks, they did little but mate with each other. Humans had some cheek, didn't they? After years of telling Mudgie off for licking himself in public, they were quite happy to lick each other in front of him with absolutely no shame. They didn't restrict their mating to the sleeping area either, although they made extensive use of it nonetheless. Mudgie took to guarding against squirrels whenever their pheromones spiked, because there was no point trying to interact with them when they were so deeply occupied with each other. Those squirrels needed watching anyway, so it was a win-win situation.
Mudgie took his job seriously. Without dogs to guide them, humans would still be sitting in trees eating their dinner while it was still wriggling. They lacked the scenting and tracking skills to survive alone, as evidenced by the diseased poultry they had been planning to eat. They'd dashed away on an urgent errand, leaving the bird out in the open, prepped for cooking. It had smelled wrong, but their noses weren't sensitive enough to notice. It would have made them sick if they'd eaten it. When they'd returned, smelling of smoke and forest fires, they had seemed surprised Mudgie hadn't claimed it for himself, but his refusal of the meat had correctly led them to the conclusion that it wasn't safe for them to eat. Mudgie knew he could have eaten it without any danger, but their constitution wasn't as formidable as his.
That interaction led to a significant bump in the path of their growing pair-bond. She still hadn't claimed His territory as Her own as was Her right as alpha, preferring to maintain Her own den in addition to using His. Humans thought the males were in charge, and projected that erroneous idea onto dogs too. In truth, it was the females who ruled, as every intelligent life form knew. Without them, there'd be no pups, and whilst it was the male's job to protect and provide for them, the females laid down the law.
She proved that, by withholding mating privileges when She grew angry with Him. Lacking the mental capacity to understand Her actions just proved how stupid human males could be. Even Him, who seemed to be brighter than the average biped. That hadn't stopped Him making a mess of things, and Mudgie had to forcibly prevent himself from intervening. You had to let humans work it out for themselves, otherwise how would they develop? Unfortunately, it was a terribly slow process, as evidenced by that fact that even after millions of years, they were still like young pups in their capacity.
She had stormed out, showing Her distain for His territory by slamming the den door closed with a bang as She left. He didn't seem to immediately understand that He ought to chase Her, that in the circumstances, renewing the mating chase was the only way to get back in Her good graces. Mudgie helped Him along with a disapproving whine, the most he felt he could do without breaking The Lore: Protect, guard, defend, but do not interfere.
He got the idea eventually, but it took a depressingly long time for Him to work it out. Humans!
The incident had led to Mudgie's first physical interaction with Poppy, so something good had come of it in the end. She was young, and while her scent had been around Her territory for years, enough to merge with Hers a little, she was ill-educated and impulsive. Once proper nose-to-anus introductions had been made, Mudgie had shown her exactly what her behaviour would lead to if she didn't mend her ways. He was bigger and her elder, but she was female, so he had to be a bit careful.
Thankfully, her size and inexperience meant she scrambled out of his way rather than facing him down. Her previous human had been old, frail and hadn't looked after her basic needs very well. Her new human was younger and seemed to genuinely care about her, and Mudgie had given her some pointers. No more chewing on shoes. No more marking inside her territory with faeces and urine. Tone down the barking. Humans didn't appreciate the important sentiments behind those behaviours, continuing to do so when they didn't understand was a good way to end up shamed and homeless, waiting in a shelter for another human to pick her as their guardian. She'd been inherited, not chosen, and there was a delicate balance that needed to be struck in order for the relationship to work.
Poppy was lucky, many dogs died in shelters waiting for a chance to help humans. Not everyone had a second chance drop into their paws quite so easily.
Mudgie wondered how long it would be before He had another guardian; he knew his time was coming. Every dog did. Humans lived a long time, and it would take several generations of canine guardians to see one through their lifespan. Each dog just had to hope that they'd done enough for their human to manage until another guardian arrived. Mudgie's long service to Him was approaching its end, he could feel the weakness starting to creep up on him. Eyesight, hearing, mobility, it was all beginning to fail. He could muster the energy for a romp occasionally, but those times were becoming fewer and farther between.
All the time She was there with Him, Mudgie wouldn't need to worry. She looked after Him, made sure He ate when He got engrossed in something, and made Him happy when He was sad. Maybe they'd form a new pack together, adopting unwanted pups from others, and finding a new guardian to look after them all. As long as She was there, He would be fine.
It wouldn't be long now, Mudgie knew that in his tired heart. It had been a good life, and he'd kept his human safe from harm in all its guises, everything from duplicitous females to the infernal squirrels. He hadn't sired any pups, but that was usually the case for guardians such as he. He came from good, strong bloodlines, so there was undoubtedly a litter brother or sister, or possibly both, who had ensured their genetic legacy would live on. That was enough.
Mudgie flopped over onto his side, unable to lay comfortably on his back quite the way he used to. He snuffled Her hands, showing his appreciation for the belly-rub. She had more patience with it than He did, He tended to get distracted by something and forget all about what He was supposed to be doing.
Not to mention that a hearty thank you would probably help his case for some bacon. Manners never hurt anyone, especially if there was to be food involved.
She smelled…well, She smelled like they'd been mating again during the night, but that wasn't unusual. There was almost a heaviness about Her, like something was on her mind that She didn't think She could talk to Him about.
Mudgie didn't mind, He talked all the time. He'd pontificate endlessly, asking Mudgie questions and then responding as if there had been a reply. There had been times Mudgie had been sorely tempted, just to stop Him doing something really stupid. It was part of the job to listen silently, projecting compassion with soulful glances. You cocked your ears inquisitively when they stopped, or lovingly rested a paw on their knee as encouragement to continue. That non-judgemental empathy was the reason humans didn't go completely barmy bottling all their feelings up inside.
She had never talked to him before, and Mudgie felt honoured that his alpha would let him comfort Her by listening. He licked under Her chin and wagged his tail, happily signalling his agreement.
There was another male she was troubled by. Mudgie had smelled him on Her clothes, so his presence wasn't a surprise. They weren't mating, She had no desire to dishonour the pair-bond with Him. But this other male, he definitely wanted to steal her away, and perhaps on some level, She realised that. They had known each other since she was barely more than a pup, and had mated in the past. It had been the casual kind, with no ritual involved other than a requirement for mutual comfort, but the male interloper's smell told of hidden desire and longing. She was alpha and female, but She was also human, so She was a bit thick. She didn't seem to know it was Her place to send this other male on his way, if that was what She wanted. Unfortunately He shambled down the stairs before She'd reached that conclusion, but at least that meant bacon.
Or not. Her emotions were running high, and that spiked her pheromones. He picked up on it, and they indulged their mutual desires, right there in front of him.
Mudgie resolutely turned his head away to watch the squirrels and sighed. It looked like bacon would have to wait.