Teddy Bear -- Neverendingview
Title: Teddy Bear
Summary: Theodore Bagwell's been incarcerated for animal cruelty. But, he certainly didn't hate animals.
Rating: D for (not Theo's)death and A for Angst
Author Notes: I've been wanting to write a Theo/Dog/buddy/buddy fic for the longest time...but I've once again proven anything with a character based off of my own dog does not end fluffy. (Which is odd because my dog is VERY fluffy).
It’s a fact universally acknowledged that a boy growing up in the American country side must have a dog. Fortunately for Theodore Bagwell, his father happened to breed dogs. They weren’t particularly lovely looking, usually inbred, malnourished, and virtually killed anything that came in a five foot radius. But they were dogs, and it meant that Theo got to take care of them, even if that usually ended in nearly getting mauled to death.
One April just after Theo‘s twelfth, the oldest bitch that the Bagwells owned have a litter, of only one scraggily, pathetic puppy. By August, Theo had such an attachment to the dog that they hardly were seen without each other, even at meals, and even if Theo’s father had expressly forbidden any dogs in the house.
“He just don’t get it, Bear,” Theo explained to the dog one night on the front stairs, who looked up at him as if he was listening--though he was really focusing on the sandwich Theo was eating rudely without sharing.
The boy looked at Bear’s large black eyes under a scraggly mat of fur and torn a piece of bologna off for him, “I mean, sure…make a dog mean and it’ll kill stuff. But you can’t just have it killin’ anything. Like grandpa said once--’your dog should work hard and do as ya say, but at the end of the day he should wanna crawl inside you he loves you so much’.”
“Theo, get your ass in this house and do the dishes!”
Theodore picked Bear up and went inside, Papa said he didn’t want the dog making marks on the carpet. And if Theo carried him, he didn’t. Of course, the boy hadn’t yet thought about what to do once the puppy got any bigger and too heavy to carry around.
Setting Bear down on the backdoor mat, Theo turned on the sink. The dog whimpered and Theo shushed him, but Papa had already heard.
“Get that goddamned dog out of this house, Theo. I told you last time, he can come in to the mat and that’s it…”
“He’s on the mat, Papa. Bear, lay down.” The tail wagged weakly and the curled up on the rough mat.
“IF I hear one more peep out of him, he’s going outside--where he belongs.”
Theo grumbled something to the pot he was washing, looking at Bear every time the dog threatened to whimper. “Be quiet,” he whispered harshly, “Or they’ll put you outside.”
~*~
“Theo, get the dog off the goddamned couch.”
Theo held Bear in his lap as he watched television, his mother sitting in her chair, watching the dog carefully. “He’s not on the couch, Papa, he’s on me on the couch.”
“Don’t be a smartass or you’ll both be sleeping outside. Besides, he’s probably got fleas,” Papa said.
Theo looked down at his dog who looked up at him with the same large eyes, “You don’t have fleas, do you? Nawww…” Bear licked at Theo chin and Mama squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.
“Don’t let him bite you, Teddy..” Mama whispered, she was always scared of dog, and for good reason knowing the sort her brother kept around the house.
“Bear wouldn’t bite me, would you, boy?” Theo picked up the dog, moving to sit closer to his mother, “Here, he’s a good dog, you can pet him.”
Mama shook her head vehemently. Theo smoothed his hands over the back of Bear’s head, “See? Just like this…he isn’t gonna bit me.”
“Theo, leave your mother alone and put the fucking dog outside where he belongs.”
“’Kay Pap,” Theo lied, taking his mother’s hand, no matter how she resisted and let bear lick it.
Mama flinched, pulling her hand away rapidly, “That’s not nice, Teddy! I don’t wanna get bit!”
Theo sighed and gave up explaining to Mama that Bear was a good dog. He went passed his father to the back door, going out as if to put Bear back in the pin with the rest of the dog. Instead, he tiptoed to his own window, pushing it up and putting the dog on the bed just on the other side of it.
“Be a good boy, an’ I’ll be right back,” he whispered, closing the window as he moved back to the back door.
Papa looked up from the paper he was reading, “Why don’t you take the trash out while you’re at it.”
Theo bit his lip, doing as he was told reluctantly. Bear was a good dog, but he hated being apart from Theo; if he was gone for more than a few minutes, Bear would start to whimper. He lugged the trash bag with him, moving past the chain link fence with the pack of barking, snarling dogs to the cans out by the road.
As he lifted up the lid of the can, Theo heard a familiar yelp. As he turned, running back towards the house he was stopped dead. He saw Bear flailing on the ground, he saw Papa with his rifle. Theodore closed his eyes just in time to hear another yelp and a gunshot. Then the footsteps slowly approaching him.
“I told you to take the dog outside, Theo,” All Theo could do was stand there, eyes shut, hands balled into fists, “Now clean it up and go to bed.”
Summary: Theodore Bagwell's been incarcerated for animal cruelty. But, he certainly didn't hate animals.
Rating: D for (not Theo's)death and A for Angst
Author Notes: I've been wanting to write a Theo/Dog/buddy/buddy fic for the longest time...but I've once again proven anything with a character based off of my own dog does not end fluffy. (Which is odd because my dog is VERY fluffy).
It’s a fact universally acknowledged that a boy growing up in the American country side must have a dog. Fortunately for Theodore Bagwell, his father happened to breed dogs. They weren’t particularly lovely looking, usually inbred, malnourished, and virtually killed anything that came in a five foot radius. But they were dogs, and it meant that Theo got to take care of them, even if that usually ended in nearly getting mauled to death.
One April just after Theo‘s twelfth, the oldest bitch that the Bagwells owned have a litter, of only one scraggily, pathetic puppy. By August, Theo had such an attachment to the dog that they hardly were seen without each other, even at meals, and even if Theo’s father had expressly forbidden any dogs in the house.
“He just don’t get it, Bear,” Theo explained to the dog one night on the front stairs, who looked up at him as if he was listening--though he was really focusing on the sandwich Theo was eating rudely without sharing.
The boy looked at Bear’s large black eyes under a scraggly mat of fur and torn a piece of bologna off for him, “I mean, sure…make a dog mean and it’ll kill stuff. But you can’t just have it killin’ anything. Like grandpa said once--’your dog should work hard and do as ya say, but at the end of the day he should wanna crawl inside you he loves you so much’.”
“Theo, get your ass in this house and do the dishes!”
Theodore picked Bear up and went inside, Papa said he didn’t want the dog making marks on the carpet. And if Theo carried him, he didn’t. Of course, the boy hadn’t yet thought about what to do once the puppy got any bigger and too heavy to carry around.
Setting Bear down on the backdoor mat, Theo turned on the sink. The dog whimpered and Theo shushed him, but Papa had already heard.
“Get that goddamned dog out of this house, Theo. I told you last time, he can come in to the mat and that’s it…”
“He’s on the mat, Papa. Bear, lay down.” The tail wagged weakly and the curled up on the rough mat.
“IF I hear one more peep out of him, he’s going outside--where he belongs.”
Theo grumbled something to the pot he was washing, looking at Bear every time the dog threatened to whimper. “Be quiet,” he whispered harshly, “Or they’ll put you outside.”
~*~
“Theo, get the dog off the goddamned couch.”
Theo held Bear in his lap as he watched television, his mother sitting in her chair, watching the dog carefully. “He’s not on the couch, Papa, he’s on me on the couch.”
“Don’t be a smartass or you’ll both be sleeping outside. Besides, he’s probably got fleas,” Papa said.
Theo looked down at his dog who looked up at him with the same large eyes, “You don’t have fleas, do you? Nawww…” Bear licked at Theo chin and Mama squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.
“Don’t let him bite you, Teddy..” Mama whispered, she was always scared of dog, and for good reason knowing the sort her brother kept around the house.
“Bear wouldn’t bite me, would you, boy?” Theo picked up the dog, moving to sit closer to his mother, “Here, he’s a good dog, you can pet him.”
Mama shook her head vehemently. Theo smoothed his hands over the back of Bear’s head, “See? Just like this…he isn’t gonna bit me.”
“Theo, leave your mother alone and put the fucking dog outside where he belongs.”
“’Kay Pap,” Theo lied, taking his mother’s hand, no matter how she resisted and let bear lick it.
Mama flinched, pulling her hand away rapidly, “That’s not nice, Teddy! I don’t wanna get bit!”
Theo sighed and gave up explaining to Mama that Bear was a good dog. He went passed his father to the back door, going out as if to put Bear back in the pin with the rest of the dog. Instead, he tiptoed to his own window, pushing it up and putting the dog on the bed just on the other side of it.
“Be a good boy, an’ I’ll be right back,” he whispered, closing the window as he moved back to the back door.
Papa looked up from the paper he was reading, “Why don’t you take the trash out while you’re at it.”
Theo bit his lip, doing as he was told reluctantly. Bear was a good dog, but he hated being apart from Theo; if he was gone for more than a few minutes, Bear would start to whimper. He lugged the trash bag with him, moving past the chain link fence with the pack of barking, snarling dogs to the cans out by the road.
As he lifted up the lid of the can, Theo heard a familiar yelp. As he turned, running back towards the house he was stopped dead. He saw Bear flailing on the ground, he saw Papa with his rifle. Theodore closed his eyes just in time to hear another yelp and a gunshot. Then the footsteps slowly approaching him.
“I told you to take the dog outside, Theo,” All Theo could do was stand there, eyes shut, hands balled into fists, “Now clean it up and go to bed.”