Paws

The Joys (Messes) of Children

(Sorry, unedited. Gotta crash early.) 

Wow.

He was shockingly gorgeous for a boy. Correcting myself immediately, I gave my head a slight shake and reminded myself that he had to be at least in his late teens or possibly early twenties judging from the scent my bear was picking up. I felt myself leaning closer to get a better smell, nostrils flaring as they took in another strong scent that mingled with his musky male one.

So good...

I couldn't really place the scent, but if I had to choose, it would be something close to a rich bouquet of flowers. Just like how my wife had smell--- The thought stopped me cold. I backed off, watching without really seeing as Sam stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall even as he continued to push up against it.

Our eyes met. His were stressed. Wide. Bloodshot. I thought he might begin to hyperventilate but when his puppy ran around me and bounded into his lap, he immediately snatched it in an awkward hug, without using his hands, then began cleaning the top of its head meticulously. It would have been adorable, if I didn't already know that he was severely stressing out and over-grooming his kid was bound to happen if he didn't calm down soon. So, I carefully crouched down, looking away as I began to back my overly-fuzzy bum towards the sofa. It had been so long since I'd been in my bear form that I wasn't used to maneuvering in my cramped living room and managed to bump into the coffee table and nearly topple over a stand-up lamp, but I finally managed to get to where I wanted and plop down with a frustrated huff.

Tension still ran high but as both of us acknowledged safe boundaries our kids began to get restless again. Coda, specifically, bounded out of his dad's arms to Sam's displeasure, and ran over to try and tackle my daughter. Jess was still in her animal form just like him, but she was far too big and had too much fuzzy padding to even flinch from the hit. Well, she was a good sport either way though, and flopped over onto her back so that Coda could tug at her paws and ears. I kept Sam in my peripheral vision each time Jess had to give Coda a quiet grumble to correct a too-hard nip or scratch, but as the two played, Sam managed to slowly relax.

When his shoulders finally sagged in relief I wanted to wrap him in my arms just like I did with Jess so many times before and tell him it was all okay and that there was nothing to worry about. But of course, I couldn't do that. Not now, and definitely not with Sam. He was hard-wired to not trust people, and I didn't blame him one bit for that. I was curious though, about what had happened to him and how he ended up on the streets in the first place.

 Unfortunately, being a bear wasn't going to allow me to get any of the answers I wanted, let alone do anything besides saunter about trying not to step on the playing pups. I really wanted to get dinner started and set up the playpen I'd gotten for Coda, but my claws would likely shred the material before I even got it out of the box.

Bear problems.

It was why I hardly ever changed, among other reasons. Grumbling, I shook out my overly-thick coat and got up, slowly, ever-so-slowly, making my way into the kitchen. I saw Sam tense up, but when I didn't make eye contact with the kids, he calmed down. Once in the kitchen I had to figure out exactly how I was going to function. I could probably change back after a few more minutes but I needed to do something. My bear was a bit stir crazy after being tucked away for so long.

I tried to focus on getting the fridge open to hopefully take stuff out to at least get ready to make, but when I heard claws on the back sliding glass door to the pool area I knew Jess's bear wanted to do exactly what mine did. Go play in the snow.

No. Responsibility. You have three mouths to feed now. No running around like a yearling.

After adding a few scratches the fridge I managed to get it open, but procuring anything inside without running it through with my claws was a whole other story. I knocked a jar of honey onto the floor, I know, cliche', but thankfully it didn't break. A packet of lunch meat dropped next, follow by a bottle of ketchup.