MIKE GETS A NEW PUPPY (6)
The time came eventually to carry on with Spike’s training. Before that, though, more mundane matters had to be addressed. Tyler was soon stripped of Spike’s head and his mitts, allowing him to move his arms freely once more. Mike decided, however, that Spike’s collar should remain in place. Tyler certainly didn’t mind that but, although he wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, the absence of the intrusion into his mouth granted great relief and Tyler wasted no time getting a large quantity of tap water down his throat. He did not bother putting it into Spike’s bowl first.
Some important human-to-human concerns were addressed but Tyler certainly did not want simply to chill over video games when he could use the next couple of hours unleashing his internal puppy once more before he would have to leave. Showering led to breakfast before training could continue. Mike’s scrambled eggs were loose and more-ish, the devilled mushrooms were spiky (sic) enough for anybody and the coffee was strong. Once again, the puppy got no meat!
Breakfast over, it was time for Spike to make his appearance. Tyler returned to the bathroom because he had noticed that Mike had rinsed out his black jockstrap and hung it up to dry overnight. He had to agree with Mike that his rather more stylish leather garment was far too funky to be reused without it had received considerable attention beforehand. Both men automatically adopted involuntary, lascivious grins at the thought of how it got to be like that. Tyler pulled on his jockstrap and Spike crawled out of the bathroom.
Mike had spent some time in the weeks approaching the meet-up planning carefully what he was going to put his puppy through if things seemed to be going well. It must be said that things did, indeed, seem to be going well as Spike presented himself for “grooming”.
“Woof, Woof.”
Mike noticed something. “Spike, Spike boy, if you’re going to win “Best in Breed” in the puppy show, there’s something we have to address.” Tyler looked puzzled as Spike turned his head to one side to show he was listening.
Mike had worked out what he was about to say carefully. “When the best doggies in your breed bark, they lift their heads, you know; they don’t nod.”
Spike whined and looked contrite.
“Spike, speak, boy, speak!” Mike was sounding encouraging and not at all stern. His new puppy gave several delighted barks and, as he did so, his head was raised in triumph! “Good boy, good boooy!” Mike scruffed Spike’s hair.
That matter having been successfully addressed by both parties, Spike soon had Tyler’s heels tight up against his bum once more as his hind legs were carefully groomed by his master. Spike grounded his hind feet, panted enthusiastically, turned to face Mike, sat, and raised his right paw eagerly, “Yip, yip!” He remembered to raise his head as he gave voice.
Tyler was rather surprised not to see the chain and padlocks as Mike helped Spike on with his mitts. In fact, if only he was human, he might have said as much to his master. Mike, however, knew there was something more that needed addressing before his pup would be fit for showing. Or, at least that’s what he told himself (and Tyler in his role a proxy Spike) as he reached for a new roll of black tape.
The pup that once resembled a saluki soon looked much more like a dachshund and Tyler was completely unable to move his fists away from his shoulders. He didn’t know whether he would be able to manage with Spike’s new front legs but he successfully guessed what was required of him. He was also very glad of the luxurious carpet which had been fitted throughout most of Mike’s apartment.
Mike thought it was time to check whether he had taken things too far so he grabbed the rope dog-toy and waved it enticingly in Spike’s face. The pup gave the expected delighted yips as Tyler’s arse was held high, his shoulders kept low and Mike threw the knotty rope across the room. “Fetch, boy, fetch.”
Tyler supposed that he could see why Spike’s head had not yet been fixed into place as he tottered uncertainly towards his target. His first attempt to pick up the toy resulted in the inevitable collapse and the inevitable delighted guffaw from Mike as Tyler used some very un-canine language. “Now, now, doggies don’t use language like that!.” Tyler’s disgusted snort seemed to indicate that he didn’t agree.
Eventually, after having collected the toy between his jaws, Spike managed to regain his paws without releasing the multi-coloured rope and delivered it into Mike’s outstretched hand. There was no point in Mike asking Tyler whether he needed to give up because: a) Spike was sitting in front of him and shaking enthusiastically, and b) without Spike’s tongue control in his mouth, Tyler could easily have said as much.
“Clever boy, good puppy.” Once again, Spike shook his nonexistent tail with pleasure as his master took his head between his hands and shook it from side to side before ruffling his hair. That black jockstrap was getting another workout. So was Mike’s underwear but at least he had remembered not to wear loose boxers that day.
What followed was a bit more fetching as Tyler got used to walking on Spike’s new feet interspersed with much head (and other part) scratching, sitting, begging and, finally, rolling over. Spike thought he had died and gone to the Sugar Candy Mountain (with choccy drops) as he waved his paws in the air. Mike scratched his belly and simply couldn’t resist giving that piece of black fabric a quick slap. Spike uttered a very human sounding noise.
TBC