Identity

Puppy planning

Deri had just left when I got a call from Grandma Alex; Aunt Emma had been in touch and she wanted to know if I could bring the puppies by Valkyrie; she was going out of town on a job the next day and time was at a premium. As a bribe for compliance, she said that she'd have a large mocha from Barnraising for me as well as a snack, so that sealed the deal. The next morning I was at the Valkyrie promptly at eight. Grandma had just come in, apparently; Eira was still pawing at her bed and Grandma hadn't sat down yet. The mocha was steaming at the corner of the desk along with a beautiful croissant. Eira stopped what she was doing and came over to investigate not only the puppies but Cassie, who was still a little shy, and touched noses with Torburn before rolling her eyes and getting back to the puppies.

"Oh, Lys! Aren't they adorable!" Grandma said, hustling over to introduce herself to Cassie and diving into the puppy mass.

"They are," I agreed. "Deri's taking two of them and Cassie once the puppies are big enough." I scowled. "City rules say I can only have two pets of each species, but the mansion is in the county, not the city, and they don't have anti-hoarding rules." Grandma smiled and kissed my cheek. We talked about this a bit.

"So Cassie is a Tibetan Mastiff?" Grandma asked, and I nodded.

"She's a show dog, apparently her AKC name is Sunflower Manhattan's Vain Cassandra. Dumb name."

"What on earth...?"

"Apparently Vane-Jones got her from a now-defunct kennel named Sunflower Mastiffs, Manhattan because he lives there, Vain as a play on Vane, Cassandra.... dunno why you'd saddle a poor dog with that name."

"Vane-Jones?"

"Thomas Vane-Jones, the former owner," I explained.

"I know that name..." she said pensively, then bolted for the door, hollering down the hall. Aunt Margaret skidded in.

"What is wrong, Alex?"  she said, looking around wildly. "Oh, hi, honey," she said to me. "Oh, puppies!"

"Your dipshit killer was abusing their mom," Grandma told her. Aunt Margaret's face went an interesting shade of puce.

"I shouldn't have stopped with a concussion the last time," she said, furious. "I'm going to make sure the cops know what kind of an asshole they're dealing with. Make sure he really pays for this." She charged off. A couple of seconds later she was back. "What was the cop's name who was dealing with this, Lys?" she asked, and I recited it for her. She stormed off again, and this time I heard her office door slam.

"Turns out that Thomas Vane-Jones was partly responsible for the arson that burned up our apartment building and led to her death," Grandma said, her voice hard. "We blame him more than the actual arsonist, because if he hadn't stolen the plans, the building probably wouldn't have been targeted, and he let Margaret stay there knowing what was going to happen. We all hold a grudge. I've kept my distance, as has Aslyn, and mostly Margaret too, so he can't accuse us of harassing him, but Margaret's never been satisfied with the sentence he received or the fact that he isn't being punished in this lifetime. She brained him with a beer bottle once," she said reflectively.  Other Valkyrie principals came by, peering in and cuddling and cooing over puppies. Grandma looked at her screen, then smiled.

"Says here that Tibetan Mastiffs are very loyal, independent, and protective. That's good, Buttercup. I worry about you all alone in that big place by yourself, even though you have impressive security. They're strong-willed and intelligent--I can see why Torburn might have been interested, those qualities come to the puppies from both sides--and will require training. They blow their coats once a year, you'll be glad of that whole-house vacuum system, but aren't smelly. They thrive with consistency and variety, and require medium exercise because too much can harm their joints, as big as they are. Lifespan is 10-12 years, but that's without Torburn's genetic contribution... You're going to have to be dominant and strong, they can weigh up to 170 pounds by themselves, without the Asgardian genes. I'll send this information to Deri, too. But I'm not worried, Buttercup. All that coxing you did, bossing those boys around, has done wonders for your ability to stand up for yourself and take no guff." Eira barked, offended at the implication that dogs or dog-people would give something as lowly as guff. I laughed. "Much to Emma's surprise, Baldur is philosophical about crossbreeds, as long as they don't happen too often, and he's going to come down here to check the puppies, give you an expert's idea about how they'll develop. He's never seen these mastiffs before. And, I understand, a talking to Torburn about mating." Eira sniffed in a superior manner, and Grandma grinned. "Eira doesn't want puppies yet, she likes yours and looks forward to associating with them, but she's just as glad you're taking them away again. Noisy pups." I kissed Eira's soft head and stood up.