Puppy Love

Yes... another one.

Remember the good old days, when I only ever had ONE incomplete story in the works at a time?

...Yeah, neither do I.

Anyway. Here we go again.

Chapter One

To the best of Kermit’s estimation, it started about three and a half years before it really began. It started the day that Rowlf, after a very long phone call with his sister, came into the frog’s bedroom and announced with some confusion that he was going to be an uncle.

“Congratulations,” Kermit said as he tucked his bookmark into place and set the paperback aside. “Who’s having puppies? Your brother or your sister?”

“My sister,” Rowlf said as he sat on the foot of the bed.

“Oh, how nice!” Kermit said, and then he frowned. “…Did she get married?”

“Nope.” Rowlf shook his head. “Not dating anybody, either. She’s not pregnant yet.”

Kermit stared at him for a moment. “I… see,” he said uncertainly, starting to understand why Rowlf looked confused about his own announcement. “So… How do you know you’re gonna be an uncle?”

Rowlf cupped his chin in his paw. “Lacey said she’s tired of waiting for Mr. Right to come along before she can be a mom,” he said. “She’s going to the doctor tomorrow to see about havin’ pups without the other half of the equation.”

“…Oh,” Kermit said thoughtfully. “Well… good for her, I guess.”

“Is it?” Rowlf mused. “I mean, parenthood… that just seems like a two-person job to me.”

“Well… traditionally, I guess,” Kermit said. “But there’s plenty of single moms out there who do just fine. Some single dads, too.”

“I suppose. It just doesn’t seem like something you would choose, unless you had to,” Rowlf said.

“Maybe you or I wouldn’t,” Kermit conceded. “But different people choose different things. Do you think she’d be a good mom?”

“Sure. She’d be a great mom,” Rowlf said. “Lacey’s always wanted to be a mother, for as long as I can remember. She was always helpin’ Mom with me and Jack, and puppy-sitting…” He nodded to himself. “She’ll be a great mom.”

“Well then, don’t worry about it,” Kermit said. “She’ll be a great mom, and you get to be a terrific uncle.”

“Well, I get to try, anyway. Jack’s gonna be a lot closer, so I’d guess he’ll be the favorite uncle, if not the better one.” Rowlf scratched his ear. “Suppose I’d better be in town when they’re born. You wouldn’t mind that, would you? If I take the time off?”

Kermit grinned. “Just let me know when. How long is it for dogs, anyway? The whole pregnancy thing, I mean.”

“Nine weeks. Sometimes it’s eight, but it’s supposed to be nine.”

“Wow… not bad. Nine months for humans.”

Rowlf nodded. “How ‘bout for frogs? How long does it take for eggs to hatch?”

“Depends on the kind of frog. For my family, it’s a couple months.”

“Mm.” Rowlf gave the frog a sly look. “And how ‘bout for pigs?”

Kermit firmly scrunched his face. “I don’t know why you think I would know that,” he said pointedly, and Rowlf got a good laugh.

To Kermit’s estimate, that was when it started. It was another two months before Lacey got pregnant, and nine weeks later, Rowlf was the proud uncle of three healthy puppies. He called and sent pictures to assure the Muppets that his nieces were the most adorable dogs he’d ever seen.

From then on, whenever the Muppets took a break from doing the show, Rowlf went home to visit with his nieces—and the rest of his family, of course. He didn’t always stay there for the entire vacation; he still had some wanderlust in him, and he still loved a good road trip now and then. However, there was something to be said for making sure his nieces knew who he was. And when it was time to get back to work on the show, he would come home to the Muppet Boarding House with more pictures and stories about just how cute his little nieces were.

It wasn’t that Rowlf had changed, exactly. Like any dog, he’d always had a soft spot for puppies, but now he seemed more likely than before to stop, sniff, and chat if he saw some puppies out with their parent on the street or being sold in the window at the pet store. And when Damien the Dog Trainer and his Prancing Puppies came to audition for the show, Rowlf was right there offering to look after the puppies while Kermit and Damien sorted out details like dates and payment.

When all was settled and Kermit and Damien went to gather the puppies, they found Rowlf behaving more dog-like than Kermit had seen in quite some time. The piano player was down on all fours, pouncing after a rubber ball and nudging it with his nose to roll across the floor for the puppies to chase it. He didn’t seem to mind how the puppies tackled and jumped on him, even when one little pooch caught his ear between her teeth and tugged.

Damien called the puppies, and they reluctantly came to attention and accepted their leashes while Rowlf laughed and rolled to his feet. They walked Damien the Dog Trainer and his Prancing Puppies to the door. “See you soon, Damien,” Kermit said.

“Yeah, take care, pups,” Rowlf said, patting a puppy on the head one last time. It licked his paw and wagged its tail at him before Damien led all the puppies away. “Aw, that was nice,” Rowlf said as he watched the puppies go down the street. “Those are good pups. Did you hire ‘em?” He turned around to see Kermit leaning on a doorpost with his arms folded on his chest and a smirk on his face. “Well, what are you so smug about?”

Kermit shook his head. “I don’t mean to scare ya, my friend, but I betcha,” he sang, which promptly made Rowlf groan. “Come Father’s Day the litter bug’s gonna getcha!”

Rowlf’s groan had turned to a chuckle, and he took his line. “The urge is righteous, but the face is wrong!”

“I hope that something better comes along,” they harmonized, and they both laughed.

“Ah, they were cute little buggers, though,” Rowlf said easily as he closed the door. “Did you hire ‘em?”

“Uh-huh, they’ve got a spot in a couple weeks,” Kermit said. “You’re gettin’ soft, Rowlf.”

Rowlf gave him an overly-comical double take as they started walking back through the theater. “Well, of course I’m soft!” he said. “Nobody wants their fur all coarse and matted. A nice soft coat’s worth a bath now and then! Especially if the water’s nice and warm.”

Kermit laughed and shook his head. “You keep it up, and you’ll be settling down soon,” he teased. “Movin’ out to the suburbs, getting’ a nice house, white picket fence…”

“With a yard full of good chewing bones,” Rowlf said. “Yeah, I got the picture, frog.”

“That’s gonna be you!” Kermit said cheerfully.

“Well, there’s one flaw in your theory.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Take a look at you and Robin,” Rowlf said with a big grin. “By that logic, you should’ve settled down years ago. Moved out to a nice swamp, have some tadpoles, spend your evenings snuggled up with your missus…”

“Serenaded by crickets and snacking on fireflies,” Kermit finished as they reached his table backstage.

“Yeah, Piggy would love that.”

“Rowlf!” Kermit whined, scrunching his face.

Rowlf chuckled. “Hey, if you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.”

“I didn’t mention any significant others,” Kermit said.

“Of course not,” Rowlf said. “I don’t have one.”

“Of course not.” Kermit smirked. “Why have one when you can have a dozen?”

“Half a dozen,” Rowlf said easily. “One for every night of the week, except show night.”

Kermit laughed and put a hand on the dog’s back. “Let’s be honest, Rowlf. We both know you don’t go out that often.”

“Nah, but I could, if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, well, so could I. I’d just be a very flat frog by the end of the week.”

“Yeah… and you really wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, I don’t know anyone who wants to be flattened—”

“Not what I meant, Kermit.”

“But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you,” Kermit said quickly. He leaned against his table and tried to pretend the dog hadn’t said anything. “So, how ‘bout it, Rowlf? Got any saucy Irish setters on your mind? Maybe a nice classy collie caught your eye?”

“Nice alliteration.”

“Thanks.”

Rowlf shook his head. “Nobody special right now. There’s a nice little English spaniel who just moved in down the street, but—”

Both of their cell phones chose that moment to ring. Kermit gave a startled little hop, and they chuckled as they checked their phones. “Oh, it’s the swamp,” Kermit said. “Who’s calling you?”

“Saucy Irish setter,” Rowlf said, and he laughed at Kermit’s scrunched face before they both answered their phones.

Kermit had only been teasing at the time, but in hindsight, he was certain that it all started as soon as Rowlf knew he was going to be an uncle.

Rowlf, however, felt that it didn’t really begin until Lacey’s pups were three years old.

I like the image of Rowlf playing with all the puppies, it's really cute. Can't wait to see how this turns out.

Thanks for posting!

Ha Ha Ha! Great Chapter! And I knew that eventually, Rowlf would make a tease toward Kermit about his "missus" LOL. It made me laugh! Moar Plz!

I love Rowlf fics! Hence i love this, thank you Lisa!

Chapter Two

The fact that Lacey called her brother in the middle of the day on a Monday wasn’t terribly remarkable or alarming in and of itself. Rowlf had been expecting her to call at some point in the day. And while what she had to say was certainly important, it didn’t seem in any way life-altering.

“I just came from the doctor. It looks like I need surgery after all,” she said.

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Rowlf said. “Sounds like the doctor’s erring on the side of caution, though. That’s never a bad thing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figure,” she said. “Listen, I won’t be able to do much at first, when I’m recovering, so I was wondering… Could you maybe come in town and help me with the pups? Just for a few days…”

“Sure, of course I can help. I’m sure Kermit won’t mind,” he said. “When’s the surgery supposed to be?”

“Friday afternoon. I was hoping I’d be able to work this weekend—I mean, Saturdays are always so busy at the salon—but it doesn’t look like that’ll happen.”

“No, I guess not. I’ll have to miss the show, then. I’ll talk to Kermit.” He tilted his head. “What about Mom and Jack? Aren’t they gonna help?”

“Well, of course Mom is, but she wants an extra pair of paws around. You know, so she can hover over me at the hospital, and someone else can hover over the pups any other place they need to be, or get food, or… you know. Help with the hovering.”

“You make us sound like helicopters,” Rowlf chuckled. “So what about Jack?”

“Oh, he’ll help out when he can, but you know Jack and his work.”

“Yeah, I do,” Rowlf said. “That dog just can’t get away from the smell of grease.”

“Well, YOU have a hard time getting away from the smell of grease PAINT, so maybe it’s genetic.”

Rowlf laughed. “We’ll have to see how the pups turn out. Do they know what’s going on?”

“No, not really. I’ll probably explain more when it gets closer. For now, they know they’re having a sleepover at Grandma’s, and then Mommy will be tired for a few days.”

“Guess they don’t need to know much else,” Rowlf said, and they talked for a few more minutes before he hung up and went to find Kermit.

The head frog must have been more stressed than usual. He was shuffling through papers on his table and barely glanced up as the pianist approached. “Something I can help you with, Rowlf?” he said distractedly.

Rowlf leaned his back against the wall. “I was wondering if it would be alright if I missed the show this week,” he said quietly.

Kermit dropped his papers. “This week? But Rowlf, you had a piano piece this week! That thing by Lish—Liz—”

“Liszt. La Campanella,” Rowlf prompted.

“Right! That!” Kermit was clearly panicked. It was fun to see him all worked up like this. “And that’s four and a half minutes of the show, Rowlf! You can’t cancel now. You’ve been practicing that for months, and—” Rowlf could almost hear the click as something snapped into place in the frog’s head, and his panicked expression immediately switched to concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. You’re not breathing,” Rowlf said easily.

It took a second for that to process. Then Kermit thoroughly scrunched his face. “Rowlf!”

Rowlf chuckled. It was too easy sometimes.

Kermit sighed. “Rowlf, what’s going on?”

“My sister’s having a minor surgery on Friday,” Rowlf explained. “She asked me to help her out with the pups while she recovers.”

“Ah, the puppies!” Kermit gave him a grin that was a little more smug than Rowlf would have liked. “Well, you couldn’t say no to that.”

“Nope. I couldn’t,” Rowlf said simply. “So, would you mind if I miss the show?”

Kermit sighed. “I guess not. We can work your piece in some other week. Switch things around… Won’t be easy, but… Family takes priority.”

“Thanks, Kermit,” Rowlf said. “I figured you wouldn’t mind. You’d do the same for your sister.”

“Or for my nieces,” Kermit said with a smirk. “We can talk to Scoter about getting you tickets—”

“Who needs tickets to where?” Scooter asked as he happened by. He whipped out his phone and in a matter of minutes had everything arranged for Rowlf to leave on Thursday. Then the go-fer was on his way and tending to some other errand.

“Technology,” Rowlf marveled with a shake of his head.

“That’s how it works these days,” Kermit said mildly. “So what kind of surgery is it?”

“Laparoscopic cholecystectomy.”

Kermit did a double take. “I beg your pardon?”

“She’s getting her gallbladder out,” Rowlf explained.

Kermit stared at him blankly for a long moment. “You’re still getting that medical journal, aren’t you?”

Rowlf shrugged. “They keep sending me free subscriptions. Vet’s Hospital fans or something.”

“And you actually read the thing?” Kermit asked.

“Once in a while… but just the parts I can understand.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rowlf had never cared much for flying. He preferred to travel by car or bus, if at all possible. Something with windows he could roll down and stick his head out. Planes tended to be cramped places with tiny windows and recirculated air. The view was nice enough if you managed to get a window seat, but what really bothered Rowlf about the whole experience was the pressure change. Nothing annoyed him quite like having his ears pop—or worse, when they needed to pop and didn’t.

He kept scratching his ears for the entire flight until he realized how the man next to him was leaning away. “I don’t have fleas or anything. It’s just that my ears bug me when they pop,” the dog explained.

The man looked startled. “Oh—oh, no, it’s not that. I’m not worried about fleas,” the man said almost apologetically. “I just—I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Oh—sorry ‘bout that.” Rowlf shifted away a few inches. “I really don’t shed much. Hope I don’t cause you too much trouble.”

“I’m fine so far. I just, you know… I mean, I don’t mean any offence—”

“No, of course not. I understand allergies,” Rowlf said amiably. “I’m allergic to cats, myself.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “You are?”

“Nobody expects that from a dog. But my mom’s even worse. She even sees a picture of a cat, and she starts sneezing.”

The man laughed, and from there they had a pleasant enough conversation about allergies and medications that Rowlf didn’t notice the annoyance with his ears quite as much until the plane began its final descent.

Three hard candies later, the “fasten seatbelt” light turned off and they were free to join the chaos of everyone grabbing their carry-on bags and turning on their cell phones.

Rowlf was more than eager to stretch his legs, but he waited until the man next to him had cleared out. In the meantime, he turned his cell phone on, knowing that in a few short moments it would register at least three voicemails from his mother and sister telling him who was picking him up and what their status was on reaching the airport, and hadn’t he landed yet? But to his surprise, the first noise his phone made was to ring—or, more accurately, to play the signature notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. A glance at the screen told him the call was from Gidget, a nice apricot poodle he sometimes had drinks or a meal with in LA. He answered. “Hey Gidget.”

“Hi Rowlf! How are you?”

He wasn’t great. The phone was only making him more aware of the annoyance with his ears, and he was more than ready to get off of this plane, stretch his legs, and breathe some fresh air. “I’m alright,” he said. “Yourself?”

“I’m good! I’m doing good. I’m so excited. We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

Oops.

“Ah… I’m sorry, Gidget. I should’ve called. I’m gonna have to take a rain check.”

The pause was just long enough to make him cringe. “Oh.” She let out a huffy little sigh. “Well, I guess turnabout is fair play. You didn’t double-book, did you? That’s MY goof move!”

That was certainly true. He’d lost track of how many times she’d had to cancel their plans because she had over-scheduled herself. “No, I didn’t double-book. Well—not exactly.”

She laughed. “You did, didn’t you? You double-booked!” she said triumphantly. “So, who is she?”

Rowlf chuckled. “She is my big sister, and her daughters. And my mom,” he thought to add. “I just landed in DC. Family stuff.”

“Oh, I see. Alright. Well, when will you get back in town?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Rowlf said. He was finally able to stand up from his seat and grab his carry-on bag. “Tell you what, Gidget. When things calm down, I’ll give you a call and treat you to a night on the town.”

“Ooh! Ooh, that sounds great. Alright, Rowlf, that’s a deal. But I’ll have to find someone ELSE who will appreciate this jazz singer I’ve got tickets for TOMORROW NIGHT…”

“Ooh… I’m missing out,” Rowlf mused. “Who is it?”

“New fella. Haven’t heard him yet, but the reviews are pretty great. But if YOU can’t make it… I’ll just have to find someone ELSE…”

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to rub it in,” Rowlf grumbled. “I’ll talk to you later, Gidget. I gotta go find my ride.”

“Okay, Rowlf. Talk to you soon! Take care!”

“Bye Gidget.” Rowlf hung up his phone and checked his voicemail as he made his way off the plane. It would have been fun to see some jazz singer with Gidget tomorrow night, but helping his sister and spending the time with his nieces seemed like a fair enough trade.

Loving this story Lisa. Let the nagging gnaw until the posting of the next chapter!

Really like this story so far! Thanks for posting.

YAY! A Lisa story and even better, it's a ROWLF story! With family stuffs! I wholeheartedly approve since I've traveled that road meself. I love your take on it and I can't wait to see where it goes.

I love love love this! More please! Oh, and I love Rowlf and his complicated medical words, and then he said he only reads stuff he understands! LOL More!

I like Gidget. Can we just make this whole thing about her instead?

But really... this is wonderful (go figure). I adore the Rowlf/Kermit interaction, of course. However, i think what I like the most is how delightful Rowlf is to read when he's written by you. It's delightful and dog-gone good. (Had to be done.)

Oh, hello Ed! I had no idea you were reading this. What a well-timed nag. I was just proof-reading the next chapter for posting. It will be up in a minute!

Chapter Three

“UNCLE ROWLF!” Three young puppies charged across the baggage claim area and plowed into Rowlf’s knees.

Rowlf chuckled and set his bag down to scoop the girls into his arms. “Hello, girls. How much trouble are you getting in?”

“None,” little Taylor said with almost perfect innocence, and her sisters tittered.

“Plenty,” Lacey said with some exasperation as she reached them. “Hello, Rowlf. Thanks for coming.”

“Good to see you, Lacey,” Rowlf said. His sister looked very much like he did, except that her fur was a far lighter shade of brown—closer to the color of chocolate milk. She’d always seemed very motherly to him, but that had nothing to do with the way she dressed. Like many dogs he knew, Lacey had never felt entirely clothed in her own fur, and today’s outfit was a typical example of her style: tight-fitting capris, high heels, and a sleeveless button-down leopard-print blouse.

She put her paws on her hips and gave her daughters a look that was really too amused to be stern. “You girls were supposed to stay next to me, remember? It’s a busy airport, and I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the puppies answered, not quite in unison, but they were really too busy trying to snuggle into their uncle’s arms to sound contrite.

Rowlf chuckled and pulled the puppies away enough to hold them at arm’s length—or at least, he held Taylor and Riley, and Emma knew to stand between them. “Alright, let me look at you three. How much have you grown now?”

“Lots!” Riley said. “Lots and lots!”

“We’re twice as big!” Emma declared.

They weren’t quite that much bigger, but they had definitely grown. He could still pick one of them up with only one arm, but it looked like it would be more of a challenge now; he wasn’t sure he would want to carry one niece in each arm for more than a few minutes anymore. How Lacey managed three puppies with only two arms was beyond him.

Riley and Taylor really looked very much alike, but Rowlf had never confused the two. They both had fur close in color to their mother, but with black markings on their heads. Taylor had more than just markings, really—her ears and most of her head were black, plus a small black circle around each eye on an otherwise light brown face. Riley had much larger circles around her eyes and a few small markings on top of her head. She was also the tomboy of the sisters.

Emma was the most feminine of the three. She loved anything pink and adored wearing bows, lace, ruffles, and ribbons. Her sisters were content in shorts and t-shirts, but Emma insisted on wearing a skirt at all times. But if she hadn’t been wearing clothes, Emma could have disappeared just by standing in front of her uncle; she and Rowlf had exactly the same color fur.

Rowlf shook his head. “Lacey, what are you feeding these girls? They’re growing up too fast.”

Lacey laughed. “You say that every time you visit, Rowlf, and my answer still hasn’t changed.”

“Well, change their food. They’re growing too fast.”

The puppies giggled over the customary exchange between the grown-ups. Lacey just sighed, and her brother gave her a mirthful grin. She shook her head. “Come on, girls. We’ve got a long drive back home. Let’s go make a pit stop.”

The girls grumbled a chorus of “Yes, Mama,” and then all three of them rushed to grab one of Rowlf’s paws. Emma and Riley succeeded, making it impossible for Rowlf to pick up his bag. He gave his nieces a startled look, but before Taylor had time to pout at not being included, Lacey had scooped her up in one arm and grabbed the bag with her other paw. She gave her brother a half-amused, half-exasperated look at how light his bag was, and Rowlf only had time to shrug before his nieces started peppering him with questions and stories about the make-believe games they played.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport just outside of Washington, DC was the closest airport to where Rowlf had grown up, but it was still over an hour’s drive from the sleepy Maryland town he still sometimes thought of as home. Rowlf and Lacey had no trouble passing the time as they chatted about what was going on in town, at the hair salon where she worked, and at the Muppet Theater in Los Angeles. Of course, they did have a brief, slightly heated discussion regarding the choice of music on the radio, but that was almost more out of habit than anything else.

The puppies had a harder time. Emma was content enough just looking out the window at the passing scenery for most of the trip, but Riley and Taylor quickly started fidgeting. They sighed and groaned about the long, boring drive until Lacey—without even looking—reached into a bag by Rowlf’s feet and held two books out towards the backseat. “Take these, girls. What happened to the books you had on the way to the airport?”

The picture books kept them occupied for a while, but when you were three years old, a whole entire hour was a very long time to sit still in a car seat in the back of a station wagon. By the time they made it into their home town, all three puppies were anxious to get out of the car.

“How much longer, Mama?” Taylor asked.

“Just ten more minutes, Sweetie.”

“Ten minutes?” Emma whined.

“Can we stop first?” Riley begged.

“Not yet, honey. We’re almost home.”

“But Mama, I need to go potty!” Riley said.

“Me too!” both of her sisters chimed in.

“We’re almost home, girls. Just try to hold it in a little bit longer—”

“I’ve been holding it, Mama!” Riley said insistently, and she squirmed in her car seat.

Lacey sighed and glanced at her brother. “Maybe we could stop by Uncle Jack’s shop—”

The puppies immediately cheered.

Rowlf shook his head. “Didn’t they just go before we left the airport?” he asked quietly enough that the backseat wouldn’t hear.

“Mm-hm.”

“And they haven’t had anything to drink since then.”

“Nope.”

“So what are the odds they really need a bathroom?”

Lacey smirked. “Slim. But I don’t feel like cleaning a car seat if I’m wrong. Do you?”

“Good point.” Rowlf felt a little sick at the idea. “How would you even… I mean…”

Lacey laughed. “It’s a project. Trust me,” she said. “So we’ll go see Jack, and maybe we’ll convince him to leave work a little early.”

“That’ll be the day,” Rowlf scoffed.

Lacey turned in at the parking lot for Aaron’s Garage, which had never actually been owned by anyone named Aaron. The original owner had chosen the name as a marketing ploy back when most people found whatever sort of business they needed in the alphabetical listings in the phone book. Since then, the shop had been handed down from one senior employee to another, and now it belonged to Jack the Dog.

“Could you get Taylor out?” Lacey asked as she turned the car off. “I’ll grab Emma and Riley.”

So Rowlf got out of the car and opened the back door. “Alright, Taylor, how do you work this thing?”

Taylor giggled. “You push the button, Uncle Rowlf.”

“What button?” Rowlf scrutinized the buckle holding his niece in place. By the time he got Taylor out of her seat, Lacey had both Emma and Riley out of the car. He shook his head. “Lace, I think I’m slowing you down more than I’m helping you.”

Lacey laughed. “Come on, girls. Let’s go inside.”

Riley was in a hurry and kept trying to pull her paw away from her mother’s grasp. The other two must have felt they needed the restroom as well, because they both hurried along at Lacey’s side without even trying to reach for Rowlf’s paw.

“Hi Ted!” Lacey called as she led their little parade into the repair shop’s reception area.

The man sitting behind the counter glanced up from his magazine. “Oh, hey Lacey. Girls need a pit stop?”

“Yup.” Lacey didn’t even slow her stride as she herded her daughters towards the appropriately marked door.

Then Ted looked at Rowlf and raised his eyebrows. “Well… What have we here? Look who’s descending from on high! Decided to come mingle with us common folks, huh?”

Lacey glanced over her shoulder and shot her brother that worried, protective look he’d always resented—and been grateful for. Then the bathroom door closed.

“Yeah, I came home for a visit,” Rowlf said, and he folded his arms across the top of the counter. “So how are things with you, Ted? Jack workin’ you too hard?”

Ted’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh, everything’s fine and dandy,” he said coldly. “I suppose you’ll want to see the boss right now.”

“Sure, if he’s not too busy.” Rowlf moved away and looked through the big windows behind Ted that showed the actual work area of the garage.

He always made at least one attempt at being nice to Ted, but it never worked. They’d been civil enough as acquaintances in high school, back when Ted had been the star of the drama club and Rowlf had played piano in the pit band. After graduation, Ted had made several attempts at moving out to Hollywood to become a star, but none had lasted more than a few months before he’d been forced to either come home or face starvation. His most difficult failure had come around the same time as Rowlf’s big break with The Jimmy Dean Show, and Ted’s resentment for the dog had been stewing ever since.

“So, is my brother gettin’ his paws dirty today, or did somebody wrangle him into his office?” Rowlf asked. “I don’t see him out there.”

“He’s in the middle of a call with a very important customer,” Ted said dryly. “But for you, well, I’m sure you could walk right in, and that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Rowlf said easily. The trick was to try to ignore Ted’s tone of voice. It wasn’t an easy trick. He went over to the little waiting area and examined the car magazines set out for reading.

“So Rowlf, what brings a big hot shot like you way out here to see us little people?” Ted must have been in a mood to pick a fight today.

“Now why would I need a reason to see my own family?” Rowlf said. He picked up a magazine and started flipping through without really looking at the pages. “I like coming home.”

“Uh-huh. Sure ya do.”

Deep breath, Rowlf, the dog silently reminded himself. Don’t get your hackles up. “I sure do,” he said simply. Maybe that would close the conversation.

“No big Hollywood parties this weekend, huh?”

“Can’t say I’d know if there were.”

Ted scoffed. “And that big variety show of yours?”

“Our show. Kermit always insists that it’s all of ours,” Rowlf said fondly. “That’s still on for this week.” And what would Ted think if Rowlf mentioned that he’d postponed his big piano number for a trip back home? He probably wouldn’t believe it.

The door next to Ted’s desk opened. “Rowlf! Welcome home!”

Rowlf grinned and dropped the magazine back on the table. “Good to see you, Jack,” he said as he went to greet his brother.

“Come on back here. We’ll tell some dirty jokes,” Jack said, holding the door open and letting in the sounds of the shop—a hammer pounding on metal, the whine of a power drill. “How was your flight? Is Lacey here?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Puppy pit stop,” Ted cut in, sitting up in his chair.

“Oh, have her bring the pups back to my office, alright Ted?” Jack ushered his brother into the shop without waiting for a response. The moment the door closed behind them, his cheerful composure turned strained and apologetic. “Rowlf, I’m sorry. I’ve got this call on hold I’ve gotta wrap up. I just came to get you ‘cause I saw you were out there with Ted, and—well, I didn’t want you alone out there.”

Rowlf shook his head. Since when was his little brother the protective one? “It’s not that bad. He’s just bitter.”

“He’s a jerk. I hate how he talks to you. If he weren’t so good with the books, I’d fire him. You see that Mercedes there?”

Jack had switched into work mode, so there was no point trying to argue for Ted’s employment. “Hard to miss it,” Rowlf said, taking in another eyeful of the red convertible as they walked past. It might have been a beautiful car if the entire front end hadn’t been crumpled like an old aluminum can.

“I’m on the phone with the owner,” Jack said as he led the way into his office. “Nice guy. Good customer. Complete idiot. Sounds like he already wrecked his next victim.”

“Victim?” Rowlf echoed.

“The new car he got when I explained this one would take more than an hour to fix. He doesn’t bother with rentals.” Jack plopped down behind his desk and gestured for Rowlf to use one of the folding chairs against the wall. “The guy goes through cars like Mom goes through purses,” he said, and he grabbed the phone from its cradle. “Sorry about that, Charlie. You still there?”

Rowlf closed the office door and quietly unfolded a chair. His brother kept the phone to his ear and stared out the big office windows at the crumpled Mercedes-Benz in his shop. He had a pained look on his face as he listened to the customer, and Rowlf wondered if that was from looking at the ruined car or dealing with the person who had wrecked it. He could hear a muffled voice from the phone, but no distinct words.

Then Jack looked at him and let out a sigh that Rowlf knew was really a well-disguised laugh. “Charlie, I hate to break it to you,” he said into the phone, slowly and carefully, “But painting your car with flames and racing stripes does not change the fact that it’s a hybrid.”

Yay update! Fun family stuff! More please!

Rowlf seems like a great uncle, and I like getting glimpses into his family life. Thanks for sharing!

I love this story so far! Rowlf is a very good uncle.

Aw, cute wittle puppies! And I love all of them excited to see Rowlfie!