For a request by wiseinnerwhispers on my sneezehq tumblr. Enjoy!
Puppies are pretty okay, Yuri has decided. Not nearly as good as cats, of course, obviously. But they're cute and soft, if a little messy. Not bad to have around for an afternoon or two, even if he'd never want to own one himself.
The reason for his musings on puppies, since Yuri doesn't usually sit around and think about dogs in his free time, is the wiggly bundle of fluff sitting in front of him in the living room. Victor and Yuuri had decided that Makkachin could use a young companion in his life, and after almost a year of excited planning (that they'd somehow dragged Yuri into) they'd brought home a young poodle puppy named Anya.
Anya is a cute little dog, Yuri won't deny that. She looks exactly like Makkachin, only much smaller. Her paws are huge compared to the rest of her body, which Victor had said meant that she still has a lot of growing left to do. She'd been introduced to Makkachin, who had instantly adored her, playing gently with her and letting her nap beside her when she'd finally worn herself out. And she seems to really love him in turn, constantly following him around wherever he goes.
Surprisingly—at least to him—she seemed to really like Yuri as well, despite his strong preference for cats over dogs. She keeps trying to climb in his lap and convince him to play with her, dragging over her favorite toy (a giant ice skate that's almost as big as she is) and gently placing it at his feet.
"You already have them wrapped around your little paw, don't you," he says to her as she paws at his leg, her way of begging to be picked up. He scoops her up and holds her close to his chest, still surprised at how tiny and light she is. It's hard to believe that one day she'll be as big as Makkachin, who's easily ten times her size. He's snoozing on the sofa, worn out from playing with the puppy. "You've got a lot of growing to do, little lady."
The front door opens, signaling Victor and Yuuri's return from their grocery shopping trip. Yuri sets Anya down, eager to go and see what's for dinner. He's a growing teenage boy, after all.
And that's when disaster strikes.
You see, Yuri was raised with cats, not dogs. Anya is the first dog he's been around that's small enough to pick up. So, since he's used to cats, when he goes to set her down, he treats her the same way that he treats his cats: he just kind of—lets go, letting her fall to the floor.
But Anya is not a cat. And since she's not a cat, but instead a clumsy little puppy, she doesn't land gracefully on all four feet the way Yuri expects. Instead, she lands in a clumsy sprawl of limbs with a loud yelp.
Yuri is horrified. The sound of the puppy's distress summons Yuuri and Victor, who come sprinting into the living room. "What happened?" Yuuri asks urgently, while Victor scoops up the crying puppy, looking her over as carefully as if she was a newborn baby.
Great. How's he supposed to explain this to Victor and Yuuri? They're going to be so mad at him for breaking their new puppy. "I uh," he begins, unusually hesitant. "I went to set her down, but I kind of, uh, dropped her?" he explains, gaze fixed on Yuuri's shoes. "It works just fine with my cats!"
"I think she's okay!" Victor announces with no small amount of relief, having finished his inspection of Anya. "She just got a bit startled. What happened?"
Yuri isn't looking forwards to having to explain again, but Yuuri beats him to it. "Yuri here forget that Anya isn't a cat," he says with a straight face, before starting to chuckle.
Victor seems confused but willing to roll with it. "I see," he says slowly, before setting the puppy down on the couch next to Makkachin. She promptly curls up on top of the larger dog and goes to sleep.
"I'll be more careful next time," Yuri promises sheepishly, overwhelmed with relief that no one is mad at him. He's learned his lesson: as cute as Anya is, she isn't a cat. She's a dog.
And dogs, unlike cats, don't always land on their feet.
No puppies were hurt in the writing of this fic.
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