The Kittytown Knights
Mar. 30th, 2017 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: The Kittytown Knights
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: My beloved, always inspirational Drew
Fandom: Original
Character/Pairing: Bowie/Princess, mild Patrick/Bambi
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: Among the Valentine's Day gifts I gave to my beloved was a puzzle with a feline football player who looked like our Diaval and a valentine with a "coupon" for a free story. This was the story she chose: kitties playing football. And yet, we're not even sports fans. ;) I can honestly say I've never watched a football game in my life, nor have I wanted to -- until now.
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 3,437
Date Written: 21 March 2017
Summary:
Disclaimer: This one's all mine, folks! And yes, all the players within are based on kitties we currently have and dogs we either have or had except for one (Hawkeye) who belongs to our cousin Bob! And yup, he's in there, too!
Sometimes he wonders why he still does this. The sport does not appeal to him, but he knows it does to those around him. Still, she won't be here tonight, and she's the very reason why he started playing ball. His orange tail swishes with the memory. She was the star cheerleader, the star of the whole damn school, and he was desperate to earn her attention. He put his own studies to the side and started trying to learn to play sports, and once he got the basic rules and rhythm down, he kept improving until he became the star quarterback.
But what did it get him? He never has enough time for his own studies or family any more, and she barely glances in his direction. They did date for a while -- it's what's expected, after all, of the school's top cheerleader and ball player --, but soon after he earned her paw, she grew tired of the whole experience. Everybody still turns after her. Every guy's eyes and some of the girls' even follow her every move at school, but she hasn't cheered in months. Nor has she kissed him, even so much as his cheek, in months.
But now he's got others depending on him. His team has become what he's made it. He's gotten the bullies off of the team and worked with those who wanted to play but weren't good enough until they've all become very skilled players which is how they got here, to the Kingdom Playoffs. Their school hasn't made it to the playoffs in over a century, but yet, here they are.
"Bowie!" another ginger tomcat exclaims, his tail swishing as he runs up to his best friend. "We're going to make those Pups eat our dust, aren't we?!"
"Of course, Diaval," he murmurs, hardly paying the younger tom any attention. His green eyes sweep the parking lot, but he knows already she's not coming. School spirit is no longer her thing, not since she stared modeling and acting and hardly has any time at all left for her old life. She's barely even in class any more, now that she's got a private tutor to fill her in on what she misses. He sighs, his tail swishing again. He knows what he misses: He misses her.
But there's a whole parking lot of people here who need him. Parents are saying goodbye to their children and wishing them the best of luck before filing into the stadium. His team mates are gathering around him, and he's well aware of the eyes watching him from over on the other side of the parking lot as the remaining cheerleaders practice their cheers.
A low growl draws Bowie's attention. Flicking his ears forward, he looks down at a small, gray tom cat. Like Diaval, there are dark streaks painted underneath his green eyes, but he's growling beneath his helmet. His tail strikes the air. "I can't wait to make those Puppies beg for their bones!" Victor punches the hot, evening air with his fist.
"This isn't going to be easy, guys," Bowie starts to warn his team mates.
"But we can take 'em, right?!" a brown and white tom asks. His bushy tail sways in the air behind him. Jasper was one of those who had wanted to play well enough to be on the school team, but his weight, both actual pounds and of his fur, had kept him from joining the team. Bowie had worked with him, gotten his weight down, gotten him a hair cut, and gotten him trained until he was almost as good as him.
Bowie sees the eagerness in the younger tom's face and eyes and sniffs the air. All of his team mates are eager, but there's also just a hint of fear on the air tonight. His tail swishes, and he knows what he must do. He must forget about his Princess, at least for tonight. She doesn't want him any way, and his team mates more than want him. They need him. He won't let them down. His green eyes gleam. "Oh, yeah," he purrs, "we're going to get them!"
"You'd better," a low voice calls from the row of buses.
Bowie and his team look toward the familiar voice as a black cat dressed in black leather emerges from the buses' shadows. He's flanked by another ginger tom and a pretty, gray and white on his arm. The light of his catnip cigarette flares in the settling night. "I've got a lot riding on this game, Bowe." Patrick strides up to him and swipes his shoulder with a paw. "Don't let me down," he warns before passing by the team with Bambi and his little brother, Jamie.
Bowie growls, his frustrations rising. He won't let anybody down tonight, but not because Patrick will kick his ass if he does. He's going to win this game. His people are going to win this game, and they're going to send those Pooches packing.
"A kiss for luck?" a soft blonde asks.
Bowie turns toward the cheerleaders who have come up to join them and shakes his head. "We don't need a kiss for luck. It's not luck that's going to win tonight. It's skill."
"Coach," a black and white tom calls, spotting a Siamese trying to slip by them unnoticed, "don't you want to say a few words?"
"Hum . . . " The elder Siamese's tail swishes, but looking at the hopeful faces, he comes closer. "It's not who wins or loses," he says, clearing his throat. "It's how you play the game."
"With honor," Bowie picks up, knowing Hedwig is out of his league and never should have been made Coach, "and skill and determination and love for each other. No one tom is above the other in this team. We're all in it, and we're all here, together. That's how we came. That's how we'll leave, and that's how we're going to win: together. We all have each other's backs. Don't forget that."
"But we have more of a plan than that, don't we?" asks Vinnie, the same one who had called Coach Hed over.
"Yes," Bowie hisses, his green eyes gleaming once again. "Yes, we have a plan, and here it is . . . " He bows his head, gathers his men around him, and departs the news. He knows already that he's right. They're going to win this game together tonight; they can't be beaten, as long as they stay together in unity and friendship. He only wishes his precious Princess was here to share the spotlight tonight as their team makes history.
=^.^=
The game is fast and furious, which Bowie expected, but by half-time, he knows they have a problem. "Bowie," Diaval calls, falling into place beside him, "are they doing what I think they're doing?!"
Bowie turns to look at his friend, notes that he's sweating and breathing hard like himself, and turns to glower across the field at the opposing team. He knew they'd be hard to beat, but he didn't expect this. The cheerleaders are trying to outshout their own cheerleaders, and Bowie's ears lay flat across his furry, orange head. They sound like a bunch of dogs howling, but what can one expect? They may be poodles in skirts, but they're still dogs.
Nonetheless, he didn't expect this. He didn't anticipate any one trying to tear at his team like this. His claws unsheathe and his paws curl toward becoming fists just thinking about it.
Diaval glances at his leader's claws. "I'll take that as a yes." He steps closer, his tail whisking with genuine worry. "What do we do?"
Bowie turns to survey his team. "Muffin and Salem," he calls, "I want you two out."
"But -- "
"No but's." His eyes practically glow with warning. His tail cuts through the humid air. "The damn referee isn't on our side. He seems almost to like what's happening!" He should have known Bob would be on the side of the Pooches, being an old wolf himself. "And I'm not letting you boys get hurt. We got lucky back there. We won't get lucky again."
"So you think they know what's going on?" a little, brown tom asks, darting up to Bowie.
Bowie growls, looking again at the other team, as his pointed ears swivel back and forth. "I'm afraid they do," he says. "Must be a little hard to miss. That damn Rottie coming after us like he is." He glances approvingly at the tom running in place next to him. "You did good, Mario." His tail swishes. Bowie and others in their team had had to intervene to keep Rottie from taking down the two littlest members of their team, but Mario had ran right through the dog's groping paws and kept running. "You're our fastest runner and highest bouncer. I want you, Flower, Diaval, and Billy to focus on the ball."
"The rest of us," he continues, "will run interference and cover each other and whoever has the ball." He raises his voice so that it carries to the seating area for his team. "Nicky, Liger, I want you boys in," he calls to his Bengal powerhouses. "Focus on Rottie. Keep him away from our guys, but don't take him down unless you have to. We'll lose points, possibly the game, if you do. Just don't let him touch our boys again."
And thank you, Lord, he adds, closing his eyes and lowering his head for a moment, for not letting Muffin, Salem, and Mario get hurt. Please help us. At this point, he doesn't even care about winning the game. He just wants to make sure his team is safe.
A paw clasps his shoulder. Bowie looks up, his eyes opening, to see his brother standing beside him. "Don't worry, bro," Billy says, jerking his stub of a little, orange tail that, coupled with his speed, earned him the nickname Cabbit long ago. "We got this."
"I hope you're right," Bowie says as the referee blows his whistle, howls, and signals them all back into the game. "REMEMBER," he calls above the roar of dogs barking in excitement, the cheerleaders shouting encouragement, and the applause from the stands, "WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER! ONE FOR ALL -- "
" -- AND ALL FOR ONE!" his team mates call back to him as they race out together. They all thought the new motto was silly at first, but Bowie has shown each and every one of them over time that it rings true and is far more encouraging than their old motto, "Mew! Meow! MEOW!" The Cateteers may have lived a long time ago, but their words will always ring true for real friends.
"LET'S DO THIS!" he crows as the game resumes.
Bowie moves swiftly as play begins again. Deftly and bravely, he snatches the ball out from underneath the leader of the opposing team, William. Sasha and Xena both immediately close in on him, but he darts between the Labs and throws the ball to Mario. Mario catches it and, keeping it close to his chest, starts running. He's a brown blur across the field with the Pups in hot pursuit.
"You're going to pay for that, kitty cat!" Rottie yowls, making a cut directly towards Bowie although he no longer has the ball.
"TOUCH HIM, AND YOU'LL BE THE ONE PAYING!" William shouts. "JUST BECAUSE YOUR FATHER'S THE COACH DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE GOING TO KEEP LETTING YOU BULLY OUR OPPONENTS! HAWKEYE, TIPPY, TAKE HIM OUT!"
A dark dog and a golden one come running from around their leader. Bowie knows he's got to be gawking as they run straight at their own team mate, catching him between their shoulders and carrying him down the field, making it look like they're all three running together. "PLAY FAIR," William shouts after him, "OR GET OFF THE FIELD!"
Bowie's still gawking when the opposing leader looks at him. "Sorry, man," he says, his tail wagging in genuine apology.
Bowie blinks and shakes himself. Things aren't always what they seem, he reminds himself, and his people clearly aren't the only ones concerned with playing fairly. He hears a whistle blow and the crowd go wild and realizes Mario's made another touchdown though he had a Shihpoo hot on his heels. "We gotta get back to the game!" he exclaims, running to catch up with his team mates. "Just keep him under control!"
"I try," William mutters, shaking his head, but then he's off to join back up with his team as well. He'd take Rottie off the field entirely if he could, but the Coach will take him off the field if he does. It may come to that, he realizes, just as determined not to let his team down as he is to keep his opponents safe. They want to beat him, but he won't win through physically hurting his rivals.
Play continues for a while without Rottie making any more efforts to take the other team down hard. They're matching pretty closely until the game draws close to an end and Mario and Diaval each swiftly make another touchdown. Diaval's running with the ball again when Billy cuts between him and Rottie. "PASS THE BALL!" he yells, his stub tail wagging like crazy. "PASS IT!"
Diaval doesn't argue. He throws the ball. Billy ducks. The football spins through the air and over the heads of Puppyville Pooches and Kittytown Knights alike. When at last it starts to come down again, Mario leaps up, grabs it in mid-air, and is already running before his paws are back on the ground. Rottie snarls, changes direction, and runs after him. He passes through Tippy and Hawkeye again. Nicky charges him, but he skips ahead of him just in time. Liger misses him too, his claws just barely scratching his stubbed tail. Rottie snaps at the air and keeps running.
So does Mario. He knows the dog's closing in on him, but he keeps running and not looking back. His team mates are scurrying to stop Rottie, and if he was to look behind him, he'd see they weren't the only ones. Rottie leaps. Mario throws the ball, but he throws it true, barely earning another touchdown as the crowd goes wild.
The cheerleaders scream as Rottie, heedless of the final timer going off, grabs Mario. Patrick runs from the stadium, Bambi and Jamie hot on his heels, because Mario is Bambi's brother. Patrick bolts the fence, but he still can't reach Mario in time.
Mario's feeling the breath being crushed out of him by Rottie's weight. The dogs are snapping dangerously close to his ears. Everybody in the field is running toward them, but Bowie's first on the scene. He jumps Rottie, claws and teeth flying. Rottie snaps at Bowie's furry neck but suddenly whines as he's yanked out of the fight.
"I TOLD YOU," William growls, his lungs heaving, "WE PLAY FAIR OR NOT AT ALL!"
"They're nothing but pussy cats!" Rottie declares. "They don't deserve to win! They deserve to be ate!"
The crowd gasps. Girls scream again. Patrick finally gets over the fence, still followed by Bambi and Jamie. Aussie, sister to Bambi, Mario, and Flower, is right behind them. Both teams close in around Bowie, Mario, and Rottie whose neck is still clutched in William's fist. Bowie hisses and slashes Rottie's face.
"It doesn't matter what species we are," William barks. "What matters is how we play the game! And you've got to be the meanest, most dishonest Pooch I've ever known!"
"That's my son you're talking about!" yips an older, dark Rottweiler just as Patrick's passing him. The black cat whirls around and attacks, slashing into the older Rottweiler with blood and claws flying.
"Come on, man!" Liger complains. "Somebody save a piece of the action for me!"
The Kittytown cheerleaders start up again, but Bowie's waving his paws in the air. "STOP!" he bellows. "EVERYBODY, JUST STOP AND LISTEN!"
Patrick and Rottie Senior pause just long enough to hear him but then go right back to fighting until a hose pushes them apart. Patrick hisses and spits, but he stands his ground while Rottie Senior runs away, yipping, in the opposite direction. He glowers at the referee who cuts off the hose and then at Bowie. "You'd better have a damn good reason for that!" He licks a paw as Bambi moves in and starts bathing his handsome but torn face.
"I do," Bowie replies. Raising his voice again so that all can hear him, he continues, "WILLIAM'S RIGHT! IT'S NOT HOW WE PLAY THE GAME OR WHO WON OR LOST! IT'S THAT WE PLAY HONESTLY! LOOK AROUND YOU! IT WASN'T JUST US KITTYTOWN KNIGHTS WHO CAME SWEEPING IN TO RESCUE OUR TEAM MATE!" Indeed, both teams surrounded them, and the fur on every back, Pooch and Knight, are all raised.
"I ALWAYS TELL MY TEAM WE'RE WEAK DIVIDED BUT TOGETHER, WE CAN STAND AND WIN THROUGH ANYTHING! AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE'VE DONE TONIGHT, BUT WE'RE NOT THE ONLY WINNERS! THE POOCHES ARE WINNERS IN THEIR OWN RIGHT, BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T BOW DOWN TO PREJUDICE AND CRUELTY! THEY STOOD THEIR GROUND, EVEN THOUGH THEIR COACH WANTED HIS SON TO GET AWAY WITH EVERYTHING HE WAS DOING AND, I'M WILLING TO BET, HAS BEEN DOING SINCE HE'S BEEN ON THE TEAM!"
William inclines his head in an agreeing nod. Hawkeye growls at Rottie, who finally lowers his head and stops squirming and snapping. Taking on the Kittytown Knights may have been one thing, but he doesn't want to face all of his own team mates now that his father's no longer there to protect him. Hawkeye's the one growling, but all of his team mates -- from William who still holds to his throat, to Tippy to Sasha and Xena to Rusty and even Abigail, who will both be graduating next year -- are glowering directly at him.
The Puppyville cheerleaders begin to shout again. "WHO' S A L-O-S-E-R?!"
It's the Kittytown cheerleaders who answer them. "R-O-T-T-I!"
"Rottie'S A LOSER!"
"MEAN AND CRUEL!"
"HE'S NOT OUR MAN!"
"OH NO, HE'S NOT!"
"TAKE HIM AWAY!"
Rottie hangs his head in shame as Chihuahuas come and collect him from the field. "You did play well tonight," William says, extending his paw to Bowie.
Bowie shakes his paw firmly. He winks, his tail swishing. "We'll see who wins next year." But already, he knows, in his heart, that his boys will win for he's got complete faith in them. He's never met a better opponent, however, than these Puppyville Pooches and looks forward to playing them again, and fairly, next year.
"Hey, Bowie," Diaval calls.
Bowie looks to where Diaval and Nicky are still each holding on to one side of Mario, although he's all right. They all moved fast enough to save him tonight. "What is it, Crow?" he asks, using Diaval's nickname.
"I think somebody's looking for you."
"For me?" Bowie puzzles, frowning.
William grins as Tippy comes to stand beside him. "Yeah. I think he's right."
Bowie turns and, as the two teams part so he can see what's happening, he witnesses the most beautiful sight he's ever beheld. His precious Princess is walking away from her co-star, a fluffy, white tom known well throughout Hollywood as Jackeesy, and straight to him. Bowie stares as she walks across the field. Every light seems to shine on her. Her gray, white, and black fur shines, to Bowie's wide eyes, like the richest, most luxurious silk he's ever seen. She truly is the greatest star he's ever witnessed.
Reaching him, Princess purrs, "I always did like the way you play a game." The crowd and teams go wild one last time that night as Princess makes one of Bowie's fondest wishes come true and kisses him deeply, sweetly, and passionately.
"WHO'S OUR MAN?!"
"B-O-W-I-E!"
"BOWIE!"
"BOWIE!"
"BOWIE!"
"No," Princess purrs, lifting her lips from his just long enough to make her declaration as the band begins to play and shaking her beautiful head slightly, "he's mine." She goes back to kissing him. Bowie's purr rumbles across the field, but he doesn't hear the trumpets blowing, his own purr, or even the cheerleaders continuing to shout praises. He's too busy hearing the fireworks that his Princess has always set off in his mind and her luscious, wonderful purr. His own purr deepens as he kisses her deeper and pulls her closer still. He is a winner, and he's never letting go of his grandest prize again!
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: My beloved, always inspirational Drew
Fandom: Original
Character/Pairing: Bowie/Princess, mild Patrick/Bambi
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: Among the Valentine's Day gifts I gave to my beloved was a puzzle with a feline football player who looked like our Diaval and a valentine with a "coupon" for a free story. This was the story she chose: kitties playing football. And yet, we're not even sports fans. ;) I can honestly say I've never watched a football game in my life, nor have I wanted to -- until now.
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 3,437
Date Written: 21 March 2017
Summary:
Disclaimer: This one's all mine, folks! And yes, all the players within are based on kitties we currently have and dogs we either have or had except for one (Hawkeye) who belongs to our cousin Bob! And yup, he's in there, too!
Sometimes he wonders why he still does this. The sport does not appeal to him, but he knows it does to those around him. Still, she won't be here tonight, and she's the very reason why he started playing ball. His orange tail swishes with the memory. She was the star cheerleader, the star of the whole damn school, and he was desperate to earn her attention. He put his own studies to the side and started trying to learn to play sports, and once he got the basic rules and rhythm down, he kept improving until he became the star quarterback.
But what did it get him? He never has enough time for his own studies or family any more, and she barely glances in his direction. They did date for a while -- it's what's expected, after all, of the school's top cheerleader and ball player --, but soon after he earned her paw, she grew tired of the whole experience. Everybody still turns after her. Every guy's eyes and some of the girls' even follow her every move at school, but she hasn't cheered in months. Nor has she kissed him, even so much as his cheek, in months.
But now he's got others depending on him. His team has become what he's made it. He's gotten the bullies off of the team and worked with those who wanted to play but weren't good enough until they've all become very skilled players which is how they got here, to the Kingdom Playoffs. Their school hasn't made it to the playoffs in over a century, but yet, here they are.
"Bowie!" another ginger tomcat exclaims, his tail swishing as he runs up to his best friend. "We're going to make those Pups eat our dust, aren't we?!"
"Of course, Diaval," he murmurs, hardly paying the younger tom any attention. His green eyes sweep the parking lot, but he knows already she's not coming. School spirit is no longer her thing, not since she stared modeling and acting and hardly has any time at all left for her old life. She's barely even in class any more, now that she's got a private tutor to fill her in on what she misses. He sighs, his tail swishing again. He knows what he misses: He misses her.
But there's a whole parking lot of people here who need him. Parents are saying goodbye to their children and wishing them the best of luck before filing into the stadium. His team mates are gathering around him, and he's well aware of the eyes watching him from over on the other side of the parking lot as the remaining cheerleaders practice their cheers.
A low growl draws Bowie's attention. Flicking his ears forward, he looks down at a small, gray tom cat. Like Diaval, there are dark streaks painted underneath his green eyes, but he's growling beneath his helmet. His tail strikes the air. "I can't wait to make those Puppies beg for their bones!" Victor punches the hot, evening air with his fist.
"This isn't going to be easy, guys," Bowie starts to warn his team mates.
"But we can take 'em, right?!" a brown and white tom asks. His bushy tail sways in the air behind him. Jasper was one of those who had wanted to play well enough to be on the school team, but his weight, both actual pounds and of his fur, had kept him from joining the team. Bowie had worked with him, gotten his weight down, gotten him a hair cut, and gotten him trained until he was almost as good as him.
Bowie sees the eagerness in the younger tom's face and eyes and sniffs the air. All of his team mates are eager, but there's also just a hint of fear on the air tonight. His tail swishes, and he knows what he must do. He must forget about his Princess, at least for tonight. She doesn't want him any way, and his team mates more than want him. They need him. He won't let them down. His green eyes gleam. "Oh, yeah," he purrs, "we're going to get them!"
"You'd better," a low voice calls from the row of buses.
Bowie and his team look toward the familiar voice as a black cat dressed in black leather emerges from the buses' shadows. He's flanked by another ginger tom and a pretty, gray and white on his arm. The light of his catnip cigarette flares in the settling night. "I've got a lot riding on this game, Bowe." Patrick strides up to him and swipes his shoulder with a paw. "Don't let me down," he warns before passing by the team with Bambi and his little brother, Jamie.
Bowie growls, his frustrations rising. He won't let anybody down tonight, but not because Patrick will kick his ass if he does. He's going to win this game. His people are going to win this game, and they're going to send those Pooches packing.
"A kiss for luck?" a soft blonde asks.
Bowie turns toward the cheerleaders who have come up to join them and shakes his head. "We don't need a kiss for luck. It's not luck that's going to win tonight. It's skill."
"Coach," a black and white tom calls, spotting a Siamese trying to slip by them unnoticed, "don't you want to say a few words?"
"Hum . . . " The elder Siamese's tail swishes, but looking at the hopeful faces, he comes closer. "It's not who wins or loses," he says, clearing his throat. "It's how you play the game."
"With honor," Bowie picks up, knowing Hedwig is out of his league and never should have been made Coach, "and skill and determination and love for each other. No one tom is above the other in this team. We're all in it, and we're all here, together. That's how we came. That's how we'll leave, and that's how we're going to win: together. We all have each other's backs. Don't forget that."
"But we have more of a plan than that, don't we?" asks Vinnie, the same one who had called Coach Hed over.
"Yes," Bowie hisses, his green eyes gleaming once again. "Yes, we have a plan, and here it is . . . " He bows his head, gathers his men around him, and departs the news. He knows already that he's right. They're going to win this game together tonight; they can't be beaten, as long as they stay together in unity and friendship. He only wishes his precious Princess was here to share the spotlight tonight as their team makes history.
=^.^=
The game is fast and furious, which Bowie expected, but by half-time, he knows they have a problem. "Bowie," Diaval calls, falling into place beside him, "are they doing what I think they're doing?!"
Bowie turns to look at his friend, notes that he's sweating and breathing hard like himself, and turns to glower across the field at the opposing team. He knew they'd be hard to beat, but he didn't expect this. The cheerleaders are trying to outshout their own cheerleaders, and Bowie's ears lay flat across his furry, orange head. They sound like a bunch of dogs howling, but what can one expect? They may be poodles in skirts, but they're still dogs.
Nonetheless, he didn't expect this. He didn't anticipate any one trying to tear at his team like this. His claws unsheathe and his paws curl toward becoming fists just thinking about it.
Diaval glances at his leader's claws. "I'll take that as a yes." He steps closer, his tail whisking with genuine worry. "What do we do?"
Bowie turns to survey his team. "Muffin and Salem," he calls, "I want you two out."
"But -- "
"No but's." His eyes practically glow with warning. His tail cuts through the humid air. "The damn referee isn't on our side. He seems almost to like what's happening!" He should have known Bob would be on the side of the Pooches, being an old wolf himself. "And I'm not letting you boys get hurt. We got lucky back there. We won't get lucky again."
"So you think they know what's going on?" a little, brown tom asks, darting up to Bowie.
Bowie growls, looking again at the other team, as his pointed ears swivel back and forth. "I'm afraid they do," he says. "Must be a little hard to miss. That damn Rottie coming after us like he is." He glances approvingly at the tom running in place next to him. "You did good, Mario." His tail swishes. Bowie and others in their team had had to intervene to keep Rottie from taking down the two littlest members of their team, but Mario had ran right through the dog's groping paws and kept running. "You're our fastest runner and highest bouncer. I want you, Flower, Diaval, and Billy to focus on the ball."
"The rest of us," he continues, "will run interference and cover each other and whoever has the ball." He raises his voice so that it carries to the seating area for his team. "Nicky, Liger, I want you boys in," he calls to his Bengal powerhouses. "Focus on Rottie. Keep him away from our guys, but don't take him down unless you have to. We'll lose points, possibly the game, if you do. Just don't let him touch our boys again."
And thank you, Lord, he adds, closing his eyes and lowering his head for a moment, for not letting Muffin, Salem, and Mario get hurt. Please help us. At this point, he doesn't even care about winning the game. He just wants to make sure his team is safe.
A paw clasps his shoulder. Bowie looks up, his eyes opening, to see his brother standing beside him. "Don't worry, bro," Billy says, jerking his stub of a little, orange tail that, coupled with his speed, earned him the nickname Cabbit long ago. "We got this."
"I hope you're right," Bowie says as the referee blows his whistle, howls, and signals them all back into the game. "REMEMBER," he calls above the roar of dogs barking in excitement, the cheerleaders shouting encouragement, and the applause from the stands, "WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER! ONE FOR ALL -- "
" -- AND ALL FOR ONE!" his team mates call back to him as they race out together. They all thought the new motto was silly at first, but Bowie has shown each and every one of them over time that it rings true and is far more encouraging than their old motto, "Mew! Meow! MEOW!" The Cateteers may have lived a long time ago, but their words will always ring true for real friends.
"LET'S DO THIS!" he crows as the game resumes.
Bowie moves swiftly as play begins again. Deftly and bravely, he snatches the ball out from underneath the leader of the opposing team, William. Sasha and Xena both immediately close in on him, but he darts between the Labs and throws the ball to Mario. Mario catches it and, keeping it close to his chest, starts running. He's a brown blur across the field with the Pups in hot pursuit.
"You're going to pay for that, kitty cat!" Rottie yowls, making a cut directly towards Bowie although he no longer has the ball.
"TOUCH HIM, AND YOU'LL BE THE ONE PAYING!" William shouts. "JUST BECAUSE YOUR FATHER'S THE COACH DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE GOING TO KEEP LETTING YOU BULLY OUR OPPONENTS! HAWKEYE, TIPPY, TAKE HIM OUT!"
A dark dog and a golden one come running from around their leader. Bowie knows he's got to be gawking as they run straight at their own team mate, catching him between their shoulders and carrying him down the field, making it look like they're all three running together. "PLAY FAIR," William shouts after him, "OR GET OFF THE FIELD!"
Bowie's still gawking when the opposing leader looks at him. "Sorry, man," he says, his tail wagging in genuine apology.
Bowie blinks and shakes himself. Things aren't always what they seem, he reminds himself, and his people clearly aren't the only ones concerned with playing fairly. He hears a whistle blow and the crowd go wild and realizes Mario's made another touchdown though he had a Shihpoo hot on his heels. "We gotta get back to the game!" he exclaims, running to catch up with his team mates. "Just keep him under control!"
"I try," William mutters, shaking his head, but then he's off to join back up with his team as well. He'd take Rottie off the field entirely if he could, but the Coach will take him off the field if he does. It may come to that, he realizes, just as determined not to let his team down as he is to keep his opponents safe. They want to beat him, but he won't win through physically hurting his rivals.
Play continues for a while without Rottie making any more efforts to take the other team down hard. They're matching pretty closely until the game draws close to an end and Mario and Diaval each swiftly make another touchdown. Diaval's running with the ball again when Billy cuts between him and Rottie. "PASS THE BALL!" he yells, his stub tail wagging like crazy. "PASS IT!"
Diaval doesn't argue. He throws the ball. Billy ducks. The football spins through the air and over the heads of Puppyville Pooches and Kittytown Knights alike. When at last it starts to come down again, Mario leaps up, grabs it in mid-air, and is already running before his paws are back on the ground. Rottie snarls, changes direction, and runs after him. He passes through Tippy and Hawkeye again. Nicky charges him, but he skips ahead of him just in time. Liger misses him too, his claws just barely scratching his stubbed tail. Rottie snaps at the air and keeps running.
So does Mario. He knows the dog's closing in on him, but he keeps running and not looking back. His team mates are scurrying to stop Rottie, and if he was to look behind him, he'd see they weren't the only ones. Rottie leaps. Mario throws the ball, but he throws it true, barely earning another touchdown as the crowd goes wild.
The cheerleaders scream as Rottie, heedless of the final timer going off, grabs Mario. Patrick runs from the stadium, Bambi and Jamie hot on his heels, because Mario is Bambi's brother. Patrick bolts the fence, but he still can't reach Mario in time.
Mario's feeling the breath being crushed out of him by Rottie's weight. The dogs are snapping dangerously close to his ears. Everybody in the field is running toward them, but Bowie's first on the scene. He jumps Rottie, claws and teeth flying. Rottie snaps at Bowie's furry neck but suddenly whines as he's yanked out of the fight.
"I TOLD YOU," William growls, his lungs heaving, "WE PLAY FAIR OR NOT AT ALL!"
"They're nothing but pussy cats!" Rottie declares. "They don't deserve to win! They deserve to be ate!"
The crowd gasps. Girls scream again. Patrick finally gets over the fence, still followed by Bambi and Jamie. Aussie, sister to Bambi, Mario, and Flower, is right behind them. Both teams close in around Bowie, Mario, and Rottie whose neck is still clutched in William's fist. Bowie hisses and slashes Rottie's face.
"It doesn't matter what species we are," William barks. "What matters is how we play the game! And you've got to be the meanest, most dishonest Pooch I've ever known!"
"That's my son you're talking about!" yips an older, dark Rottweiler just as Patrick's passing him. The black cat whirls around and attacks, slashing into the older Rottweiler with blood and claws flying.
"Come on, man!" Liger complains. "Somebody save a piece of the action for me!"
The Kittytown cheerleaders start up again, but Bowie's waving his paws in the air. "STOP!" he bellows. "EVERYBODY, JUST STOP AND LISTEN!"
Patrick and Rottie Senior pause just long enough to hear him but then go right back to fighting until a hose pushes them apart. Patrick hisses and spits, but he stands his ground while Rottie Senior runs away, yipping, in the opposite direction. He glowers at the referee who cuts off the hose and then at Bowie. "You'd better have a damn good reason for that!" He licks a paw as Bambi moves in and starts bathing his handsome but torn face.
"I do," Bowie replies. Raising his voice again so that all can hear him, he continues, "WILLIAM'S RIGHT! IT'S NOT HOW WE PLAY THE GAME OR WHO WON OR LOST! IT'S THAT WE PLAY HONESTLY! LOOK AROUND YOU! IT WASN'T JUST US KITTYTOWN KNIGHTS WHO CAME SWEEPING IN TO RESCUE OUR TEAM MATE!" Indeed, both teams surrounded them, and the fur on every back, Pooch and Knight, are all raised.
"I ALWAYS TELL MY TEAM WE'RE WEAK DIVIDED BUT TOGETHER, WE CAN STAND AND WIN THROUGH ANYTHING! AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE'VE DONE TONIGHT, BUT WE'RE NOT THE ONLY WINNERS! THE POOCHES ARE WINNERS IN THEIR OWN RIGHT, BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T BOW DOWN TO PREJUDICE AND CRUELTY! THEY STOOD THEIR GROUND, EVEN THOUGH THEIR COACH WANTED HIS SON TO GET AWAY WITH EVERYTHING HE WAS DOING AND, I'M WILLING TO BET, HAS BEEN DOING SINCE HE'S BEEN ON THE TEAM!"
William inclines his head in an agreeing nod. Hawkeye growls at Rottie, who finally lowers his head and stops squirming and snapping. Taking on the Kittytown Knights may have been one thing, but he doesn't want to face all of his own team mates now that his father's no longer there to protect him. Hawkeye's the one growling, but all of his team mates -- from William who still holds to his throat, to Tippy to Sasha and Xena to Rusty and even Abigail, who will both be graduating next year -- are glowering directly at him.
The Puppyville cheerleaders begin to shout again. "WHO' S A L-O-S-E-R?!"
It's the Kittytown cheerleaders who answer them. "R-O-T-T-I!"
"Rottie'S A LOSER!"
"MEAN AND CRUEL!"
"HE'S NOT OUR MAN!"
"OH NO, HE'S NOT!"
"TAKE HIM AWAY!"
Rottie hangs his head in shame as Chihuahuas come and collect him from the field. "You did play well tonight," William says, extending his paw to Bowie.
Bowie shakes his paw firmly. He winks, his tail swishing. "We'll see who wins next year." But already, he knows, in his heart, that his boys will win for he's got complete faith in them. He's never met a better opponent, however, than these Puppyville Pooches and looks forward to playing them again, and fairly, next year.
"Hey, Bowie," Diaval calls.
Bowie looks to where Diaval and Nicky are still each holding on to one side of Mario, although he's all right. They all moved fast enough to save him tonight. "What is it, Crow?" he asks, using Diaval's nickname.
"I think somebody's looking for you."
"For me?" Bowie puzzles, frowning.
William grins as Tippy comes to stand beside him. "Yeah. I think he's right."
Bowie turns and, as the two teams part so he can see what's happening, he witnesses the most beautiful sight he's ever beheld. His precious Princess is walking away from her co-star, a fluffy, white tom known well throughout Hollywood as Jackeesy, and straight to him. Bowie stares as she walks across the field. Every light seems to shine on her. Her gray, white, and black fur shines, to Bowie's wide eyes, like the richest, most luxurious silk he's ever seen. She truly is the greatest star he's ever witnessed.
Reaching him, Princess purrs, "I always did like the way you play a game." The crowd and teams go wild one last time that night as Princess makes one of Bowie's fondest wishes come true and kisses him deeply, sweetly, and passionately.
"WHO'S OUR MAN?!"
"B-O-W-I-E!"
"BOWIE!"
"BOWIE!"
"BOWIE!"
"No," Princess purrs, lifting her lips from his just long enough to make her declaration as the band begins to play and shaking her beautiful head slightly, "he's mine." She goes back to kissing him. Bowie's purr rumbles across the field, but he doesn't hear the trumpets blowing, his own purr, or even the cheerleaders continuing to shout praises. He's too busy hearing the fireworks that his Princess has always set off in his mind and her luscious, wonderful purr. His own purr deepens as he kisses her deeper and pulls her closer still. He is a winner, and he's never letting go of his grandest prize again!
The End
