On My Way

The sheltie paced through the slowly encroaching forest, clutching the basket to her side somewhat as she glanced around. Dimple was not a nervous dog by nature, but she could admit to feeling somewhat out of her element here. She had been born in the city and had grown up in the city. The most she had seen of what one might consider to be nature had been in parks. She couldn’t remember having ever ventured towards the less developed parts of their town, to places where there were long stretches of space in between homes (and even places where you might just have no neighbor at all), where the forest spilled out into someone’s backyard rather than concrete, where the river cut a lazy swath through it all and made a very clear distinction between city and the rest of the world. This wasn’t what she was quite used to, but she was nevertheless a persistent soul with a clear goal in her mind and she would not be defeated by a smattering of nerves.

One of the few things in life that Dimple was adamantly passionate about was her cooking. She enjoyed the feeling of creating and decorating the treats that adorned the case and windows of her bakery. More than that, though, she enjoyed coming up with new treats that would make her closest friends happy. That was what had lead her here today. Dimple could well admit that she was no connoisseur of the palettes of felines, but having one of her best friends had forced her to expand her thought process on things to provide in her bakery. Dimple wanted to do something extraordinary for her friend and also do something that would potentially bring even more joy to those that came into her bakery. There was a challenge in using fish for these kinds of things, but she was willing to meet the challenge… but she wanted advice on the best kind of fish and perhaps someone who could provide her with the freshest fish that she could possibly get. She had asked around town and she had been told there was most definitely someone who could help her out, she just had to take a bit of a journey was all.

At least it was a nice one. The sound of the city had faded away into the distance, replaced mostly by the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the river as its waters moved along at a steady pace down the current it had traveled for years. Over the sounds of the water, however, she could pick out the strains of something else. Both of her ears perked up some and the sheltie placed a paw to her basket, steadying it as she stood up somewhat higher to see around her more clearly. Her efforts revealed nothing, however. She finally identified the noise as music, although it wasn’t quite near enough for her to be able to pick out how close it was, exactly, nor just what was being played. She turned more towards it, pleased that she was still heading in the direction that she had been told to go, and walked along. She wouldn’t say that the path began to grow more wild and untamed, but the city receded even further into the background and the last home she had seen seemed almost miles behind her although she knew that couldn’t be true.

The sound of the music grew louder and louder as she walked further, and her ears finally picked out that it was the sound of someone playing a banjo.. Although perhaps playing was a bit much. It sounded more like someone was just picking out the same tune over and over again, as if trying to commit it to memory. There a cottage sat nestled right up alongside of the riverbank. It was the kind of place you might read about in a fairytale or a children’s book, small but with a welcoming feel that made you feel as if you were home even when you had never even been there before and there, sitting right on the porch that was facing out towards the river, was another canine. Scruffy was the best word that Dimple could think of to describe the other dog, with wiry looking light brown fur and clothing that looked as if it was comfortable, maybe even a bit patchy in some places but in the good sort of way, from years of wearing it. As she drew closer, the golden sheltie nervously smoothed out the sun dress that she was wearing before she squared her shoulders and walked up closer. “Hello!” Dimple called, pitching her voice to be heard over the sounds of the water and the plucking of the banjo.

The gentle plucking and strumming stopped abruptly and she could see the banjo that the other dog held being lowered as theyleaned forward somewhat, peering at her with a soft and gentle smile through the bangs of fur that hung over amused brown eyes. “Hello to you too,” came the friendly and cheerful voice. “Passing through?” the question was amused, the tone indicating that the other dog highly doubted that considering there was very little to be passing on to see.

“No, I’ve reached my destination,” Dimple stated simply, her plumed tail wagging a tiny bit, shifting the dress back and forth somewhat with the action. “I was told you might be able to help me!”

“Well, that probably depends on just what I’m helpin’ you with!” came the reply, followed by a quick laugh.

Dimple reached the base of the steps to the small porch, smiling wide, blue eyes wide and sparkling. “I’ve been told that Addison, who lives out in the cottage by the river, is something of a fish expert.”

“A fishing expert, to be precise,” she clarified.

“Oh, well, I think that might just equal out to the same thing in my book.” Dimple smiled and then brought her free paw up to her chest. “Oh! I didn’t even introduce myself! My name is Dimple. I own a bakery in town. Maybe you’ve heard of it or even had something from there? Pawsitively Delicious?”

Addison looked at her not unkindly and then shook her head somewhat at the question. “No, at least I don’t think so. That just leads into the question of wondering what a baker is doing out here looking for a fisherwoman.” The words could have been something harsh or suspicious, but with the twinkle in the other female’s eye and the easy posture of one arm draped across her knee, Addison just looked curious.

“Obviously because I need some help with fish!” Dimple quipped back brightly. She took a few steps closer and pulled back the cloth on the basket, angling the basket to reveal some of the treats she had picked out to bring with her as advertisement, example and even as perhaps a bribe. “I make all kinds of treats, but I wanted to make something special for a friend of mine who has a fondness for fish… and maybe for other felines in the future. I need advice on the best kind of fish and, of course, a fresh supplier!”

A slight smirk quirked up the edges of Addison’s muzzle. “Of course!” The other dog leaned back in her seat somewhat, the banjo that she had been playing earlier still resting across her lap. After a moment, she seemed to realize that it was still there and picked the instrument up, moving to set it down to rest beside her chair. “So, I’m guessing you want to talk a little business maybe?”

Dimple perked up at the fact that she hadn’t been dismissed out of paw. “It doesn’t have to be just business! I always enjoy a chat! And I brought treats, of course. It would be a shame to just let them go to waste.” After all, there was nothing better than a good talking session with good treats, in her opinion.

Addison reached out with one leg, hooking a stool that was just off to the side a little bit and bringing it closer in a clear invitation for Dimple to come and take a seat beside her. “Well, I can’t say no to that now, can I? Let’s see what you’ve got to offer and I’ll give you my opinion. And maybe we can work out a deal.” Addison reached out, patting the stool. Dimple made her way up the short steps and then sat demurely, smoothing out her dress. She brought the basket up to her lap, fully pulling the cloth out and then offering it out towards the other dog. “Please, help yourself!”

“Oh, I will,” there was a quick flash of teeth in a grin and the Otterhound reached out to take one of the cookies that Dimple had made sure to set on top, lest they break in the transit from bakery to out here. As she watched with some excitement - unable to contain a tiny wriggle - Addison brought the cookie up and took a bite before giving an appreciative exclamation. “Not bad!”

“I would hope so,” Dimple tittered. “It is my job, after all.”

The other female laughed at that and finished the cookie in what looked to be record time, her brown eyes looking intently at the basket that was still resting on Dimple’s lap. Without hesitation, Dimple passed the basket over. Sharing the food that she had baked, she found, was another one of life’s little pleasures. If there were tea and gossip alongside of it she was never any happier. At the very least, Addison seemed to agree somewhat given the blissful look on her face as she polished off another cookie. “Well, I’d say you must be doing a pretty good job based off of this. So, you want some ideas and some fish, huh?”

“If we can work out a deal,” the sheltie pointed out. She certainly couldn’t force the other canine to do it and she couldn’t be swindled out of her hard-earned money, either. They would have to find some kind of agreement that was beneficial and agreeable to them both if they were going to progress any further than that.

As she spoke, Addison had dug further into the basket and pulled out one of the scones that Dimple took quite a bit of pride in. The dark brown nose twitched in appreciation as she sniffed and seemed to savor the scent. “Is that cheese? Tell me that’s cheese.”

Dimple gave another small giggle. “Yes, it is.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Addison took another large bite out of the proffered goodie and made a face that more than showed just how much she was enjoying it. Dimple didn’t think she could have found a better audience for her treats, honestly. She clasped her paws together, beaming happily as she watched the other dog clearly enjoying the bite of food. When she had finished, Addison brushed her paws together to clear the crumbs from her fur and then she grinned over at Dimple. “I think we can figure something out, don’t you?” Thus saying, she gently covered the top of the basket with the bit of cloth and set it down on the ground in between the two of them. Then she reached over to pick up the banjo again, crossing one leg and plucking at the strings in idle contemplation as she looked over at Dimple with a slow smile. “Nothing like a little food, conversation and music to figure things out, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I definitely agree,” she said, still beaming at the other female, paws still clasped together in happy excitement. The two leaned forward some, Addison still fiddling with the banjo, and began to talk - sometimes in earnest, sometimes idly - but with a contentment that always came when you were enjoying the conversation and the company.