Doggy Days
Chapter 3
Three dogs were standing under one of the largest oak trees in the park.
Well, one of them were standing underneath the shade cast by the tree's leaves. Another dog was pacing backward and forward in front of the others, and the last dog was too busy trying to catch a butterfly to pay attention to his friends. The dog who was under the tree trapped his paw in the grass and huffed impatiently.
"Romano," the pacing one said as he looked over at the other, a few locks of his curly hair falling into his face. "Don't worry, they will be here soon. I'm sure of it."
"You said that over an hour ago," Romano replied with another huff and lied down in the grass. He turned to his right, opened up his mouth to say something to say something but quickly realized the third dog wasn't beside him. The canine tsked and snapped his head to the left. There, he saw the slightly slimmer dog hopping in the air after a fluttering object. "Italy, get back over here!" he barked as the curl in the middle of his hair bounced angrily. Unfortunately, the younger dog hadn't heard him and continued after the insect. With a huff, the southern half of Italy hopped to his feet and placed one of his forepaws forward as if to steady himself. "FRATELLO!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. This time he caught the other younger off guard and the dog's muscles suddenly locked up in midair and his face swiftly met the grassy ground below him. He quickly got back on all fours and looked over at his brother. "Ve~?" the dog uttered questionably and cocked his head to the side.
The older of the two halves of Italy found the gesture -well, he'd hate to say it since the adjective he was about to use would be referring to his brother- kind of cute. But he would never ever say that in front of Italy. The northern half of the country would just bug the hell out of him over and over again. And Spain. He would never let Romano live it down, so South Italy decided to just keep his mouth shut. He then noticed that that Spaniard dog was gone. "Oh great," he droned out. The Italian growled to himself then ordered his brother to get over to where he was and stay right there. He made sure his brother had heard him right -to stay put- before he went off looking for his childhood caretaker.
The journey was made even longer by the blaring summer sun overhead and Romano could feel sweat pooling underneath his thick fur. "How come I had to to have all of the long fur?" he grumbled and switched off of the paved path he had been walking along and into the grass. The ground was still heated to about the same temperature as the stony path, but at least he no longer had to feel his paw pads sizzling as he walked onward. Roman lowered his head and wished that he at least had thumbs to hook around the bandanna around his neck and wretch it off; right underneath the fabric was where the most sweat was forming and the bandanna rubbing against his fur did not help the situation at all. "This all Spain's fault. Dannati bastardi." Romano's pendent-shaped ears perked up when he heard faint voices coming from in front of him. He rose his olive-green eyes from the ground and saw the lanky dog's back facing him. How in the world did he have enough time to walk thirty meters from where they last were? Never mind that, all that mattered was that he found him. "Spain!" South Italy called out to get his caretaker's attention. Spain paused in what he was doing to look over his shoulder, and that was when Romano saw that he had been speaking to two other dogs. One was taller than Spain by a few inches and Romano was trying to figure out how in the world had he not seen him before. The dog wore a blue scarf with a white strip through the center of it; he had light brown fur that was peppered dusted with darker patches here and there, most of them were on his rear and tail; the newcomer's spiky hairstyle remained the same as it had in his human form. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked over Spain and down at Romano.
The second dog was smaller than bother her brother and Spain, and her medium-length coat was also a lot lighter in color. The only dark spot she had was the dark brown mask on her face and her tipped, triangular ears. She had a green ribbon tied into her hair and though it was clearly a dog standing in front of him, her lips curled up in a way that reminded the young Italian of a cat. "Romano~!" she sang and hurried over to him. The dog bent down to nuzzle her friend's neck and the representative of Southern Italy could only stand there as his childhood crush hugged him. He felt his face turn hot. He leaned into her touch. 'Riprendo ciò che ho detto in precedenza. Grazie a Dio per la mia pelliccia.' Romano cleared his throat. "Belgium," he said, acknowledging her.
While Romano was busy greeting Belgium, Spain turned back to the other dog and opened up his mouth to speak, but all the scarf-wearing canine did was use his paw to shut the Spaniard's jaw and pushed past him. Spain thought nothing of it, shrugging his shoulders, and followed closely behind.
"Aw," he said when he saw Belgium and Romano, "You two look so cute together." Despite the everlasting cheeriness in the older dog's tone, the Spanish dog's words caused Lovino's calm expression to fall, getting replaced by a scowl directed to his friend; the curl jutting out from the center of his hair suddenly became distraught and Romano lifted his lip a little. The tall dog caught on to what the expression meant and replied with a sheepish smile. "A-anyway, didn't you miss me as well, Belgium? Can I get a hug, too?" Spain said down on his haunches and spread his forelegs with a smile on his face. The female dog turned to him and was about to agree, but a high-pitched yelp escaped Spain's lips. Romano looked over to see that the Netherlands had smashed the skinny dog's hind foot underneath his one of his own heavy paws. "Eh...o-or...maybe not..."
With a snort, the representative of the Netherlands removed his paw from on top of Spain's. He ignored the "I'm disappointed in you" look that his younger sister gave him and sat in the small space between her and Romano, causing both dogs to scoot over to allow him enough room. Belgium rolled her eyes and South Italy got up from his spot.
"Okay Spain," the Netherlands said around the smoking pipe in his mouth. "You have asked us to come here because you have something important to tell us." After taking a draw on the pipe, he continued, "Now what is it?" The brown dog lifted an eyebrow as he impatiently waited on the Spanish nation's response. 'I swear, he better had not called us all the way over here for nothing.'
"Did you not say that we should all go to England's house?" Belgium chimed in and Spain nodded.
"Si. I thought I told both of you that already-"
"You told my sister," the Netherlands interjected.
From where he stood off to the side, Romano could only think, 'Here we go,' as he prepared himself for an argument between Spain and the blond bastard with Belgium trying to break them up without getting physically involved. 'Can we just go to England to reverse this spell and not do this?' Suddenly, the Italian dog's eyes went wide in realization and Romano was on his feet and turning on his heel in an instant. "Merda!" he exclaimed and the other three only caught a glimpse of him taking off.
"Romano! Where are you going?" Spain called after him.
"I left Italy by himself!"
Meanwhile, Italy was happily jumping in a circle around a much larger German shepherd dog.
"Ve~ Germany, Germany! You've been turned into a fog, too?" he asked as he bounded around on his tiny white paws. Above him, the shepherd released the breath he was holding in as a very long and very annoyed sigh. Italy's jumping was getting on his nerves.
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
"How come you're at the park? Did Spain as you to come meet up with us, too? Huh?"
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
Germany's left eye twitched.
"Italy," he growled. "Stop bouncing around!" The tip of his tail flicked in the air when he realized that the Italian hadn't stopped moving. Italy had not heard him, too excited to see his best friend in the whole wide world, and droned out the German's order -or perhaps Italy had just chose to disregard him altogether; whatever the reason, Germany was still getting pissed off very quickly. Germany closed his eyes and slowly started to count backwards from ten...but that would have been so much easier had Italy not started yipping as well. Brows furrowed, Germany bared his teeth. "Verdammt, Italy! Stop bouncing-"
The shepherd felt his short fur get rustled by a gust of wind and he popped his eyes back open just in time to see a white blur tackle his friend. Before he had the chance to freak out and scream the Italian's name, Germany saw that it was no one other than Prussia who had jumped on Italy.
Prussia landed on all fours, his upper body hunched over as he strained to balance himself above the frightened Italian greyhound. After he steadied himself, a wicked smile formed on his muzzle. "Hey! How's my favorite Italian doing today?" he barked and wagged his overly-feathery tail at a wild speed. "O-oh," Italy stammered and swallowed before giving a weary smile of his own. "C-ciao, Prussia. I guess...I'm doing good. How are you?"
"The awesome Prussia," he started and moved so he could sit down without falling on top of Italy. "Is doing...well, awesome!"
The albino's awesome smile was suddenly wiped off his face when he felt something ram in the ribs. The impact did not hurt badly, but it nearly knocked the Prussian over; red-violet eyes widened but he caught his balance and then focused on the brown canine on his left who had obviously been the one who butted him. A frown was etched into the smaller dog's face, his brow was furrowed, the whiskers on his muzzle and that curl in his hair were all distorted, and his mouth was open as he panted heavily. 'Did he run all the way here just to head-butt me?' the shaggy shepherd questioned himself, staring down with a blank expression at the other dog.
An annoyed growl ripped through the air and the little canine attacked Prussia's side again. This time, he succeeded in toppling the ex-nation over. "Hey!" Prussia barked and hurried to his feet.
"Keep your filthy paws off of my fratello, Potato Bastard number two!"
"If it makes you feel any better, you can be my other favorite Italian, ja?" the albino said quickly, but all he succeeded in doing was making Romano's anger flare even more. "I do not want to be your damn favorite!" the southern half of Italy yelled and lunged at Prussia again. Prussia jumped back just as his forepaws left the ground, but Romano realized that his upper body had been suspended in the air. He knew better than to look back -really he did- but in his fury Romano snapped his head around to see who in the hell was keeping him from pummeling that ex-nation into nothingness.
"CHIGI!"
The first thing he saw was that two rows of sharp white teeth had snagged his Italian flag printed bandanna; the next thing his green eyes settled on where the creases in Germany's tan muzzle and furrowed brow.
"Let go of me you damn Potato Bastard!" South Italy roared in fear and angry. He used all of his might to tear himself out of the other dog's grasp. Unfortunately, his bandanna didn't make it was left as nothing more than a piece of fabric with eight tear marks running through it, leaving it shredded and raggedy beyond repair in the German's jaws. Germany was about to spit the bandanna out, but it crossed his mind that since it had the Italian flag on it, the accessory was still considered as a flag and should not be put on the ground. How disrespectful that would have been but...he did not know where to put it at. So Germany kept his teeth tightly clenched around the torn bandanna. He stood there awkwardly as Romano glared daggers at him and slowly backed up. "I did not like that thing anyway," he muttered. It was true, he felt freer without that cloth wrapped around his neck, and no one would be able to snag it again either...South Italy snorted at his brother's best friend, who just eyed him back.
"What?" he asked around the bandanna but Romano only averted his eyes to the trio of dogs rushing up behind Germany.
Spain was the first one to reach them. "What is going on?" he panted out, giving questionable glances to everyone present. That was when Prussia decided to speak up. "Your little tomate," he said in a mock Spanish accent, "Tried to kill me!"
"Prussia, I doubt head-butting will kill you," Germany said as he looked over his shoulder at his brother. The shepherd had gotten up a few seconds after Spain and company arrived and found a nearby park bench to sit Romano's bandanna on. It was still in a very bad shape, but at least it wasn't lying on the ground. Behind him, Prussia shook his head. "Nu-uh! If he had kept it up then he could have eventually ruptured some vital organs or whatever," he retorted. Germany rolled his eyes.
The Netherlands stepped in between the albino shepherd and the other lanky dog. "Can we all just go to England's house now?" was his question. He was steadily growing more and more impatient by the second and the longer they waited, the longer it would take them to fix this problem and return to their human bodies. The Netherlands couldn't wait; he had to go back home to make sure his kitchen was still in the same spic-and-span shape he had left it twenty minutes ago. "Let us just go now-"
"Do not tell the awesome Prussia what to do! The awesome Prussia tells himself what to do," the shaggy white dog barked out.
"Well you should have told yourself not to smother my brother!"Romano had jumped into the conversation now, fur bristled and teeth bared once again as he face Prussia, who scoffed. "I was not smothering him. I was just saying hello."
"By covering his body with yours?!"
Beside the two nations, the Netherlands rolled his eyes and took in a deep breath before blowing out a grey puff of smoke between his clenched teeth. All of this was not what he signed up for. "First off, I was not talking to just you, Prussia. I was talking to everyone here." Again, Prussia just had to reply to that.
"Mine Gott," Germany muttered and shook his head at his older brother's lack of maturity. He'd be sure to give him a scolding when they were all humans again. The northern part of Italy quickly ran up to the two arguing dogs and forced Prussia, who had taken a threatening step toward Romano, backwards using his hind paws. However, this didn't stop the ex-nation from growling and staring down the other Italian. "Romano," Italy said, looking over his shoulder, "Prussia is right. He was just saying hi."
"And you! I told you to stay right there where I put you, not to go run off and play with the Potato Bastards!" Romano yelled and Italy lowered his head, casting his eyes toward the ground. "Mi dispiace." He took his forepaws off of Prussia's chest and shuffled them along the ground, his thin tail hanging low to show his regret.
While her brother had picked the argument with the albino dog back up, Belgium padded over to Germany and Spain as they watched from the sidelines; neither one of them wanted to try and break up the fight -even with the possibility of things turning physical- and end up with a broken paw. Sitting down, the Belgian gave both of them a weak smile as her way for apologizing for her brother's actions. Spain just nodded back, speaking for both Germany and himself. After watching as the Netherlands and Prussia circle each other as the spat out nasty comments in each other's native tongues, Germany finally decided that he had enough of this nonsense and rose to his feet. He reached the two canines in a few steps and when his brother walked past him, Germany grabbed Prussia's spiked collar and pulled him away from the potential battlegrounds. Of course, the awesomeness that was none other than Prussia put up a giant struggle to get back and complete some unfinished business he had with the Dutch shepherd, but Germany was a well toned dog and managed to drag his older brother a few feet off.
Belgium then approached the Netherlands and used her nose to nudge his shoulder. "Okay," she said in a cheery voice, hoping to lift her brother out of his currently annoyed-slash-inwardly-glad-that-he-had-won-the-verbal-battle status. "Um. We are ready to go and see England now," the younger dog added. Again, the Netherlands blew out a puff of smoke and walked off to where Germany had hauled his not-so-awesome-non-existing-nation of a brother to; his younger sister trotting close behind him. "Italy, Romano, Spain," she called out to them then tilted her head to the other male personifications who were continuing onward without them. "We are heading to England's home, so come along now."
"Coming," Spain answered and Romano turned to his brother. "Come on, fratello," he ordered and trudged off without looking back to make sure his younger sibling was following. Italy's ears perked up and he gasped, seeing that the group had a good eight foot start across the grassy park. "Guys! Hey, wait for me!" he yipped and ran full speed after them.
This was England's fault. It had to be. And all this time he wanted to remain neutral.
Switzerland trotted at a quick pace along the only gravel path in the entire dog park, his signature rifle bounced lightly against his ribcage as he trotted on. A few hours earlier, Ukraine and Belarus had came over in search of their brother, Russia, but Switzerland hadn't seen him. He did, however, ask the Ukraine if she could keep Liechtenstein until he returned home with an antidote.
The tri-color dog was not feeling it right now; he was washing dishes one moment and then the next thing he knew was that he was lying on the floor with the plate that had been in his hands earlier broken and its pieces scattered about the floor. He found out Liechtenstein had been mysteriously changed into a dog as well and the only thing that flashed across the angry Swiss' mind was 'England'. Damn it, didn't everyone else tell him to stop practicing his magic? He was no good at it to begin with anyway. It took Switzerland forever to unlatch and open one of the second-story windows to greet Ukraine and her sister, and it had taken him a series of nine tries to open the front door so Liechtenstein could join them. 'Maybe I should have let Liechtenstein take that stray dog in,' he thought to himself, 'Then we would have had a doggy-door installed and that would have made getting out of the house a lot easier.' The dog heard barking coming from up ahead and he stopped dead in his tracks. The Swiss dog sat back on his hind legs and drew his weapon as a figure he didn't recognize approached; the thing had four legs and a large, rounded blob sitting atop its head between two pointed objects that the Swiss dog could only guess were its ears. "What are you doing here?" he questioned as he steadied himself and had the rifle aimed at the two newcomer; once up close, Switzerland could tell that the oddly misshapen creature was actually some breed of dog and the thing sitting on its head looked like an oversized parrot with an owl-like face, dirty-green and brown feathers and some of the feathers curled on the sides of its head to resemble ram horns. One of the toes on his paw was all ready to pull the trigger. "State your business here."
The light brown dog and his partner stared blankly at Switzerland. "Why is that? I thought this was a public place," the parrot retorted, his feathers fluffy out in distress.
"It is a public place," the dog replied and then looked at Switzerland. "What's with you and the guns, mate? You were supposed to be neutral..."
Oh, wait a second. He did know these two; they must have not looked so familiar because they had been morphed into animals. Switzerland lowered his weapon but didn't bother to apologize to the others. The dog slung the rifle back over his shoulder and returned to all fours. "So it seems that this spell or whatever England has done has affected everyone," he said, looking the others over. "Australia, I understand that you are some kind of dog-"
"I'm a dingo!" the Australian exclaimed and the parrot sighed. "The brave -yet fierce- wild dog of my country!"
Switzerland stared at him. "Uh-uh. But I have not seen a bird like you before, New Zealand." He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes quizzically. "What are you?"
"Defiantly not a kiwi, am I right?" Australia laughed but completely ignored the looks his neighbor and the neutral county gave him.
"I'm a kakapo, an endangered bird in my country" new Zealand explained.
Switzerland said, "Now that we have all of that figured out, I think it would be best if you two came to England's house with me. That way he can change us all back into humans at once."
"Wait you're sayin' England was behind all of this?" the kakpo asked and then looked off, muttering, "I knew he was a terrible magician, but this is a whole new level of terrible..." Below him, Australia barked another laugh. "Ha! I knew it! New Zealand, you owe me a Red Back."
"I'll pay you when I'm human again," New Zealand stated and swatted his wig at one of the dingo's ears. "Switzerland, lead the way."
The younger dog nodded and marched passed the two Oceanic countries who turned and followed. Switzerland stayed quiet but New Zealand and Australia were carrying on a conversation behind him. "What do we need to follow him for? We know the way to England's place."
"I was just being nice. Anyway you heard him: England could change us all back at the same time."
Australia scoffed. "What if he's not even at home? You didn't thank of that, did ya?"
Switzerland stopped walking, looked backwards so that he could say something to the other nations-turned-animal, but then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. The tri-colored dog snapped his head to the right and screamed just as a group of three dogs jumped on him.
"Wer sind sie? Was machen Sie? Nein, ich möchte nicht zu spielen! Steigen Sie von mir!"
The Swiss country yelled again and this time he practically flew from underneath the other dogs; his tail was tucked, pressed flesh against his body, and his beret fell off of his head as he made a hasty retreat back to the dingo and kakpo. As he raced past, New Zealand asked, "Switzerland, where are you going?"
"Forget walking through the park to reach England's place! We will take another route!"
Translations:
Fratello - Brother (Italian)
Dannati bastardi - Damned bastard (Italian)
Riprendo ciò che ho detto in precedenza. Grazie a Dio per la mia pelliccia - (roughly) I take back what I said earlier. Thank God for my fur (Italian)
Si - Yes (Spanish / Italian)
Merda - Shit (Italian)
Verdammt - Damn it (German)
Ciao - Hello (Italian)
Ja - Yes (German)
Tomate - Tomato (Spanish)
Mine Gott - My God (German)
Mi dispiace - I am sorry (Italian)
Wer sind sie? Was machen Sie? Nein, ich möchte nicht zu spielen! Steigen Sie von mir! - Who are you? What are you doing? No I do not want to play! Get off of me! (German)
North Italy is an Italian greyhound
South Italy is an Italian greyhound x Afghan hound mix
Spain is an Ibizan hound x Basque mix
Belgium is a Belgian Tervuren
The Netherlands is a Dutch sheepdog
Switzerland is a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog
Australia is a dingo
New Zealand is a kakpo
A/N: IT'S ABOUT TIME FOR AN UPDATE HUH
This is not the best chapter I have written. The characters are OOC, the end of this chapter is kinda ugh. Switzerland, Australia, New Zealand. I'm so sorry for infecting you guys with the OOCness T_T
Here's a little trivia: China and the other Asian countries were going to be in here, but I was too (cowardly) to write them out because I was afraid of infecting them with the OOCness as well. They shall come in later, don't worry ^^
Also, I read somewhere that the Australian slang term for twenty bucks was called a "redback". I'm not from Australia nor have I spoken to any Australian citizens, so I don't know how true this term is.
Just to clear up somethings, Prussia and company are in the public park that America, England, Denmark, and Canada are supposed to be going to. Switzerland's in a dog park.
Also, I couldn't find any dog breeds that originated in New Zealand so I just made him a bird. A kiwi would have been too obvious, so I used the (just as adorable) kakpo.
Oh yeah. I should probably mention that they can also talk to other animals.