Title:           Laika - Walkies (Satyr)
Author:          morning
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/h9YBm2pJ
First Edit:      Thursday 17th of October 2013 05:05:46 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 17th of October 2013 05:05:46 AM CDT

>You rear back, and hurl the stick forward, sending it spinning end over end.
>It whistles through the air, before landing, end-up, in the mud with a soft thump.
>Laika goes bounding after it, long legs catapulting her forward.
>She barks a few times, tail flashing from side to side so fast her entire body vibrates with the force.
>Leaning down, she bites the stick, and starts yanking it out, growls and snarls sneaking around the branch as she does so.
"Laika! C'mon, we can't stay out too late."
>She lets go of the stick, and turns to you, ears pricking up and tail freezing mid-wag.
>The two of you stare at each other for a minute.
>Then she growls again, and yanks the stick from the ground, before letting a muffled bark out in happiness.
>She comes rushing back to you, her ears pinned back now, possibly to lessen the air resistance.
>Not that she'd have had much of a problem if they did have an effect, but she doesn't really understand your explanations.
>Sitting at your feet, she lets out a happy yip, and nuzzles against your knee.
"No! We have to go!"
>Laika whines, tilting her head to the side and blinking up at you.
"Urgh. Fine. One more throw."
>You grasp the stick, and send it flying back the way you came, tumbling over and over.
>It spins through the air, before landing with a splat in a rather large puddle.
>Laika, who'd gone haring after it, stops, feet skidding in the soft ground.
>She comes to a stop at the edge of the puddle, and nervously dips a paw in.
>flinching at the apparently unexpected wetness, she pulls the paw back, and whines, looking over to you and letting out a howl.
"Oh for Christ's sake."
>It's always like this.
>Honestly, you have no idea why she's so scared of water.
"It's just a puddle, Laika. You can get it!"
>She turns to you, and puts her hands on her hips.
>"Well Laika not going in water, daddy. Is wet! Daddy throw stick, daddy get stick!"
>She smiles, pleased with her reasoning.
 
"Can't you just leave it here? It's just a stick!"
>"Special stick!"
"You say that about every stick."
>She scrunches her face up, and scratches her chin.
>"Is specialest stick!"
>You rub your brow.
"Fine. But that's it, we're going home now, alright?"
>She nods happily, tongue lolling out past her teeth.
>"Very love daddy! Love specialest stick!"
>You smile.
>At least you're more important than the stick.
>Striding over, you peel off your gloves.
>They're not waterproof, and you only have the one pair.
>You reach into the puddle, refusing to shudder at the feeling of the collected slime and detritus, and fish out the stick.
"It's all dirty, don't p-"
>Laika lunged forward, and chomped down on it.
>She tears it from your grip, which pushes you backwards, landing arse-first in the filthy water.
>Laika, seeing the fun you're having and obviously jealous, jumps in next to you, and rolls around too.
>You sigh.
>She's just like her mother.
"Just remember to brush your teeth before dinner. And your coat."
>She nods, but you know you'll have to remind her again later.
"C'mon, Laika, let's go home."
>The two of you set off for home.
>Damp, muddy, and exhausted, you're glad 'walkies' is done.
>And when she worms her warm, furry hand into yours, you know it was worth it.
 
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