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HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread 
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Puppy Wrangler
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Tha Housedog wrote:
copper wrote:
Whaaaaaaa!?

Peanut and grape leaving the sandwiches? BLASPHEMY!!!

And so we have discovered the connections that have bound them together, unseen, for years. I can't wait to see where this goes. Thank you, Housedog for getting this translated, and a big thanks to Valerio. Your work is beyond what I could ever imagine.

I just hope this continues...

You're kidding, right? Of course this continues. There's a whole backlog of this stuff that I haven't translated yet.


I meant the twists! :lol:

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Thu Jan 06, 2011 10:39 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
copper wrote:
Whaaaaaaa!?

Peanut and grape leaving the sandwiches? BLASPHEMY!!!

And so we have discovered the connections that have bound them together, unseen, for years. I can't wait to see where this goes. Thank you, Housedog for getting this translated, and a big thanks to Valerio. Your work is beyond what I could ever imagine.

I just hope this continues...

Heh, 's nothing. I'm happy you're enjoying it.

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Fri Jan 07, 2011 2:24 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
OBBL IS BACK and here it is, the final release!

HOUSEPETS! The Series
Season I
Episode 5 - Old Friends
By VALERIO

1.
Sandwich House, Babylon Gardens. 8:00am

“Hello, little ones,” said Jill Sandwich.
“‘Morning,” Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly answered in unison, seating themselves at the table. Shortly after, Jill served them slices of buttered toast with a fine layer of sugar and gave them each a glass of milk.
“What are your plans for the day?” asked Earl Sandwich, without taking his eyes from his newspaper.
“Oh, with Grape’s help, I want to do a special issue of Spot,” said Peanut. “It’ll be a crossover with Doc & Smith! From the TV series, you know?”
“I think they know, Peanut,” Grape said before biting into her sandwich. “You’ve become obsessed with that DVD.”
“Like you did with the Pridelands DVD. And that’s only one movie, while I have a box set of episodes.” Peanut bit into his sandwich. “Why would you ever need a hundred lions in tribal clothing, when you have me?!”
Their parents giggled. Grape felt herself blush. “Peanut, if you want me to kill you, at least let me finish breakfast first.”
“No I won’t let you kill me, Miss Jellybelly!” Peanut quickly reached out a paw and scratched the cat’s chest. She reacted with a lightning-fast swipe of her claws, which only struck the air because of the dog’s reflexes.
At that moment, someone knocked at the door. Peanut jumped to his feet. “I’ll get it!”
“Pest,” snorted Grape.
“It’s useless to deny it, young lady,” said Jill, filling a second cup of milk. “The day would start badly, without him and his exuberance.”
Grape nodded, and drank her milk. Things had changed a lot. Sometimes, she would interrupt her own naps spontaneously if her sweet dog was not with her. At the same time, Peanut spent more time napping with her, and in the evening he was more than ready to enjoy the newfound nightlife. Some were starting to say that Peanut wasn’t shedding, he was changing species…
“Mizar! Alcor! What a nice surprise,” said Peanut, entranced.
“Good morning to you guys,” said Jill. Earl barely made a gesture with his hand. The man of the Sandwich household would not break his ritual of reading the morning paper unless it was World War III.
“Have you heard the news?” asked Mizar.
Grape swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. “What? Bino is an alien? Not that I would be surprised.” Lately, the rumors in Babylon Gardens quickly followed each other since Mr. Martin Foster had moved into the old haunted house. First the party, during which Grape and Peanut had publicly declared their feelings for each other in front of every animal in the neighborhood. And then there was the demolition of the old shelter, the gruesome discovery of a cellar full of unburied pet bodies, and the history between Alcor and Mizar. There was enough gossip material to last years.
“There’s a new dog,” said the female German Shepherd.
“Hmm..?” Grape raised an eyebrow. She drank the last sip of her milk.
“He’s from the shelter! It’s ‘Silent Bob’!”
“The one who never speaks?” asked Peanut. For him, the essence of the exuberant and sociable dog, the idea that a fellow kin could have been so traumatized that he would open up to no one bothered him a lot.
“Well,” said Alcor, “he actually seems to have started talking. But not only that: there is someone who might adopt him!”
Grape rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, your dad?”
“No! Bill!”

The Garden’s commuters had to proceed very slowly down the street, for fear of running into the dogs that were crowding around Officer Bill’s garden.
“All of the Good Ol’ Dogs’ Club must be gathering,” Grape said. “Who is this lucky guy, Fido’s secret brother?”
“At the shelter, he was something of a celebrity, right, right?” asked a very excited Peanut to Alcor.
“He’s a celebrity because he is the first dog that Bill has adopted after Felicia died, and we’re all rooting for Fox,” said Bino. “As a good leader myself, I know, and you would know too, if you were worried about friends.” The dog pointed to his chest with his thumb.
“And he knows it only because I spread the word,” said a familiar Doberman with a tag depicting a skull and crossbones hanging from the collar.
“This is unexpected news,” said Grape. “How long have those two been planning this? Or was it a surprise from Bill?” It had to be so, for that matter: it’s true that Fox was not exactly an emotional dog, but he wouldn’t have been able to hide a bomb like that. One reason was that he was everybody’s friend, to the point that he had earned the friendship of the grumpy, lonely King. He had never attempted another relationship, however, had never asked his dad to adopt another dog, male or female. He was too afraid of having to pay too high a price again. And any attempt to convince him otherwise had crashed into a wall. Eventually, the dogs in the Club had decided to leave him alone, wait for him to decide for himself.
Apparently, that day had come. Or Bill had gotten tired of waiting.
Bill’s door opened. Fox stuck his head out, not too surprised at the crowd. In his view, the dogs barking erupted in applause and encouragement.
Fox went out, and was almost overwhelmed by the enthusiastic crowd. Everyone wanted to be the first to congratulate him.
“Give him some breathing room, sheesh,” said Bino, making his way through the crowd, helped by Rex. The founder and president of the Good Ol’ Dogs’ Club came to vigorously shake the paw of his friend. “Old friend, congratulations on behalf of me and all of the Club! As soon as the lucky one is introduced, we’ll celebrate at the Club! For the occasion, we shall inaugurate the new base promised by Mr. Martin at his mansion!”
Fox hugged Bino. “Thank you so much, really. To you and to all of you, my friends. But... I have to ask a favor. Will you let me?”
Bino slapped his chest with his fist. “No matter what, my friend! Today I will be the embodiment of generosity, just for you!”
Fox put a hand behind his head. “I have to introduce the new dog to Grape and Peanut, first. And to Mizar and Alcor.”
If someone had touched Bino in that moment, he would’ve shattered like a fragile glass statue.
Fox gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Forgive me, but it is very important. It’s not to belittle your role, believe me.”
Bino hunched over and exhaled a long sigh. “You are the vilest of traitors, you know that?”
Fox smiled with his teeth bared. “Generosity, remember?”
“This is the match with a dozen rounds of crows. Be warned, you... you... And what are you doing there, weirdoes? Get over here, before I reconsider!” He nodded dryly at the two pairs mentioned by Fox. They advanced between two rows of curious animals. When they arrived, the ‘brothers’ of Mizar and Alcor, the twins Antares and Aldebaran, stood as guard dogs on both sides of the door.

“Well, thank you...for this preview,” said Grape, still undecided. “But, apart from the fact that Bob, Alcor, Mizar, and I come from the same shelter, I don’t think this is the occasion for a reunion or anything like that. I know I would not like to recall certain memories...”
“We know that, baby,” said Earl, entering the living room at that time.
“Dad? Mom?” Grape rubbed her eyes. Okay, if it was a daydream, it was very realistic..!
Earl and Jill each took a couple of chairs around the table and sat down. “Bill left the back door open.”
“I don’t understand...” Looking at Peanut, she knew that he was no less confused. All the others... were looking at her. Grape was the center of attention, and did not understand why. She had never seen her parents with those faces, marked by smiles at the same time sad and happy, as if they themselves didn’t know what emotion to leave on.
A sense of anxiety began to make its way into her heart. She felt her bowels tighten painfully. “Dad, I... I did something, and...” the words came out of her mouth almost automatically, along with those ghosts that, despite all her efforts, continued to haunt her from the corner burning with her memories. That was what her dad, her first one, had looked at first, when he said he had to leave though, because they couldn’t even afford to give them anything to eat, and...
Grape was panting. “Do you... want...” It was stupid, was just plain stupid that she could even think that. They loved her, money wasn’t an issue, they had taken her away from that terrible place, they couldn’t wish...
Jill stood up and went to hug her hard. “Sshhh, baby. Nobody wants to abandon you, all is well. Oh, we’re so sorry, forgive us. Sometimes we forget how difficult it was for you. Sshh.”
For a full minute, Grape wept quietly in the arms of Jill. Peanut then joined the embrace, and the warm comfort soothed her fears. “What’s going on?” she asked, accepting a tissue. She blew her nose and threw the object into the trash. “Does it have something to do with that phone call last night?”
At about eleven o’clock, Earl had answered the phone. It was Martin, and Grape, who was in the room playing backgammon with Peanut, had heard her dad suddenly go from a cheerful tone of voice to one of surprise, but not without first cursing. He had passed the call to mom, above, then had gone up the stairs in a hurry. Peanut, as always, wasn’t worried too much: if it was an important thing that concerned the two of them, their parents would tell them. Otherwise, it wasn’t their business. In the end, Grape had decided to follow the advice of the dog. She had learned from him, among other things, that life could not be lived filled only with concern.
In retrospect, she should have at least tried to ask what it was.
Asked by Grape, Earl replied, “Yes. But... well, it’s difficult to explain. Yesterday we were all tired, and we thought you’d end up spending a sleepless night, that poor Peanut would come to this moment with his nerves on edge...”
“Why?” Peanut said, eyes wide. “Who is this dog, then? Why should I worry about Fox’s new friend? What do I have to do with–”
At that time, Bill’s car entered the garage, accompanied by a chorus of excited barks.

Grape and Peanut stared at the door where Bill would come with the new dog. Peanut took her hand and squeezed. Although Earl and Jill were tense now. Mizar and Alcor were slightly apart, along with Fox, as if they wanted to let Grape and Peanut do the honors.
He heard Bill’s footsteps, followed by those of another person, and the more muffled ones of a dog.
The door opened.
Bob went first.
Grape almost fainted. If Peanut had not been there to hold her hand, she would have fallen to the ground, she was sure of it.
It had been years since she had seen that dog. Now he was thinner, his fur shinier... But it was him. She would’ve recognized him among all the dogs in the world. He was the last one she expected to see, after all of the misfortunes that had struck her first family. The first she hoped to see again, someday...
Her prayers had been answered.
“Princess...” said the Alaskan malamute known as ‘Silent Bob’.
Grape swallowed, barely aware that next to her Mom and Dad Sandwich had shining eyes in turn. “...Lucky.”
They approached each other, looking as if neither of them could really believe that the other wasn’t a figment of their imagination, a daydream, that the first contact would shatter their figures to nothing...
But when their hands met, they knew that it was true. That after all those years they were together again, and when he said, “Princess Periwinkle!”, before bursting into tears this time, those sweet memories engulfed her thoughts. Memories of a more innocent life, full of promise, games and friendship... and the separation, hunger, pain disappeared and she was again Princess Periwinkle and happy about it! “Lucky! Lucky, Lucky, Lucky...” She called out his name as it tasted sweeter than honey drops. She buried her face in his fur. Although his stray life before, and then at the shelter, had visibly marked him, yet she smelled the familiar smell of straw that she remembered. “Are you okay, are you okay... Oh, you look fine, I... I was always afraid that...”
Lucky repeatedly stroked her face. “I am Fang the Terrible, remember? How could I be less than okay? How could I stop wanting to be with you again?”
“You never stopped...”
Lucky shook his head. “Never. It never stopped torturing me that I left you alone that one day. When I came back, you were already gone, looking for a new family as you said, and I... I was afraid you had gone to that horrible shelter, but that place was the only one nearby. And when I decided to go there to find you, not only did I not find you, but there were all of those suffering animals, and that Mac...”
“We know, friend,” said Alcor, advancing a step.
Only then, Lucky seemed to notice that there were other people and other animals in there. “…Angel? Ghost?”
“Mizar and Alcor,” the German shepherd corrected. “Martin has adopted us.”
Martin Foster shrugged his shoulders, then bent down to caress the head of Lucky. “So, champ? Did I keep my promise? *Erk!*”
Lucky had turned and was now crushing the life out of the human. “Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You’re the best person in the entire world!”
“So...” Peanut said, “You’re Grape’s first friend?”
Lucky looked at the cat curiously. “Grape..?”
“Grape Jelly. And he,” she said, indicating the dog next to her, “Is Peanut Butter. My boyfriend.”
Lucky hugged Peanut. “If you’re with Princess, you’re the luckiest dog in the world, Peanut Butter!” He let him go, then looked to Grape with lowered ears and his tail between his legs, and added, “At least you’re not as insensitive as this stupid, selfish me.”
Grape put her paws on his shoulders. “It still haunts you? Lucky, it was never your fault. Dad and Mom were in trouble even before your accident, you know.”
“But I made things worse!” The dog almost growled, then suddenly subsided. “*Sigh* Excuse me everyone, it’s that I’m very, well, excited, and...”
“It’s understandable,” said Bill. “Look, I see you have much to tell. Why don’t you get comfortable? I’ll prepare drinks for everyone, alright?”
“Sold,” said Martin. “But dinner is up to me, okay? And Bill... thank you very much.”
The policeman shook his head. “Do not thank me, as I’ve already said, thank Fox.”
The animals were seated on the couch. Grape sat between Peanut and Lucky. Martin sat next to Peanut, Fox next to Lucky.
The malamute didn’t stop caressing Grape’s hands. “Princess, will you ever forgive me?”
“I’ve never accused you of anything, silly, what’s there to forgive?”
Lucky turned to Fox. “I promise that I will be the best friend that you may have. Thank you so much.”
“Ah, don’t fret. After all, I was just looking for a good excuse to have someone close after all this time. And I’m so happy to see Grape is already happy enough...”
“Hey!” Peanut protested, waving his hand. “Hello? Boyfriend here!”
Fox laughed. “You know what I mean, it doesn’t take much. You can’t beat the first love, buddy.” He winked.
Lucky and Grape blushed. Peanut was in shock. “You loved him?”
“We were just friends,” said Lucky, but he also became redder. “I was the family’s troublemaker and was always jealous, believing that Dad and Mom loved her more than me... and then I saw how we both ended up; she was abandoned first, then me. Hooray. But I always thought that Princess looked really, well, cute. For a cat.”
“He was just shy,” Grape said, flashing a sweet smile. “He just wanted a little extra attention. And I gave it to him, the ungrateful lug.”
“Of course! Though you also involved me in your diabolical plans to pull tricks on the neighbors or their dogs! And every time, Dad gave us such a telling-off...”
“But we had fun.”
“A lot.” Lucky sighed. “I missed you so much.”
“Me too. We need to catch up so much...” Then she turned to Martin. “Martin, I ... How can I thank you?”
The man took a glass of apple juice from the tray on the table. “As Fox has wisely said, I am just so happy to see you happy, Santa.”
That sentence was greeted by a swarm of curious glances.
Martin took a sip. “You know the word ‘serendipity’? When actions can lead to one result, they turn instead to another equally useful and perhaps more important one. Columbus was looking for a way to India and discovered America, a laboratory accident led to the discovery of penicillin, or that of X-rays, and so on.
“I was a penniless schoolboy, when we first met, and thanks to you I was determined to work hard to put together the money to build an animal shelter of my own, and when I won the money, I came to the old shelter here by the Gardens, where I met Alcor and Mizar, and when I took the shelter under my management, I met ‘Silent Bob’ and now I really can repay the favor, Princess, by returning you your old friend. Serendipity.”
“You know me...” she asked again. “Dad, do you know something?”
“We heard it last night,” said Earl. “It was a shock for us too, believe me.”
“But I don’t remember you.” It was true. As hard as Grape tried, she couldn’t remember meeting the man. He wasn’t a friend of her first parents, but had a familiar smell. Before the feast and the presentation, Martin Foster was a total stranger to her... “Hot milk and cinnamon cookies,” Martin said, smiling sweetly.
Once again, the memory switch snapped with a force that made her jump.
It was during her days of wandering. She had wandered far and wide, unknowingly in the direction of Babylon Gardens, when one day she had decided she was just too tired, too hungry to take a single more step. That was the day when she knew if she closed her eyes, she would die there.
She had arrived at a seedy hotel. Without even bothering to be seen, she had stuffed herself into a cardboard box upside down in a corner and fell asleep almost immediately, too tired to do anything...
At some point, however, her survival instinct had kicked in. Despite herself, she had woken up... and Grape had smelled something she thought she had forgotten.
Milk and cookies.
She remembered sniffing the air in disbelief. Was it a hallucination? Had hunger finally come to claim her senses? When would madness come?
But it was not a hallucination. Near the box was a tin cup full of warm milk and a plate of biscuits and cinnamon cookies. And a post-it note was attached to the cup, saying only ‘eat slowly’.
But she had ignored the warning, and she devoured the sweets so quickly, then she had become terribly nauseous. But she wouldn’t throw up, nossir! She refused to give up that delicious food, her stomach wasn’t used to a decent meal and could protest until it wore itself out, she would have re-digested everything!
“It was you...” Grape asked Martin.
The man nodded. “You were so cautious, and I was afraid of driving you crazy with fear, so I just waited for the evening, then brought you another ration. Unfortunately I had no other to share, and that stuff was a gift of the bartender, who had taken a liking to me. When I came to bring the stuff, you pretended not to be there, and I didn’t bother you. My room, however, was just above the box where you were, and every night I was expecting to see you pop out there and eat. You were so... different from what you are now. When I saw you here at the Gardens, I was not even sure it was you, Santa.”
“So you called me... for milk and cookies?”
Martin said, “Yeah. Unfortunately, I was running a risk, the hotel prohibited feeding the strays. And one night, I didn’t realize that the manager had seen me take the food. So he drove me out unceremoniously. And I... I could no longer do anything for you.” The man stood up. He approached Grape, knelt down and hugged her. “I promised myself that night, if there was any way, that if I could do something, anything to help a stray dog or cat to not suffer from hunger, I would do it. Not only in memory of my first pets, but also for you. And when Bob, that is, Lucky, asked if I could find for him a certain purple cat who must have been a guest of the shelter... I realized that the circle really was full. Thus, there remains only one thing to do because our destinies are not separate anymore.” He took the Peanut and Grape’s paws in his hands. “I, Martin Foster, ask you, Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly. Will you be my pets?”

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Last edited by valerio on Fri Jan 13, 2012 3:38 am, edited 2 times in total.



Fri Jan 07, 2011 3:20 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Rick posts the first comic of the year and we get a new installment of this excellent story? Glorious day! Fantastic work valerio, and of course thank you for the translation Tha Housedog!

I must say, this one has a helluva cliffhanger... :shock: Can't wait for more!

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Fri Jan 07, 2011 9:15 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
I'll try to do another one tonight but I'm not making any promises. It all depends on my motivation and my memory. ;)

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Fri Jan 07, 2011 9:26 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
The Broken Fox wrote:
Rick posts the first comic of the year and we get a new installment of this excellent story? Glorious day! Fantastic work valerio, and of course thank you for the translation Tha Housedog!

I must say, this one has a helluva cliffhanger... :shock: Can't wait for more!

Oh, and let us not forget to thank ZANDER for allowing me to use Lucky's character. Lucky has made his first appearance HERE
viewtopic.php?f=13&t=346

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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
2.
When you receive a shock strong enough, the mind begins to wander to strange places.
In the case of Grape Jelly Sandwich, her mind went back to the days of her first human family. To the days when she was called Princess Periwinkle, and lived together with Lucky, the Alaskan Malamute. Things were going well, but it was only appearance. Times were tough for Mom and Dad, and things did not improve when Lucky was run over by a car. The vet’s bill had accelerated a process already under way. A process at the height of which, first Princess and then even Lucky were abandoned – well, he said he had run away to avoid becoming a burden on Dad and Mom, but that proud, stubborn dog wouldn’t have easily admitted the burning truth. So humiliating and devastating to the point that while Princess would eventually decide that the stray life didn’t fit her, eventually going to a shelter to find a new home; Lucky would have been suspicious, living in hiding until the guilt of having left his friend alone would have pushed him toward that very same shelter she had gone to...
And now here they were, gathered in the house of Lucky’s new Dad, agent Bill, Fox’s Dad.
And Princess Periwinkle, now known as Grape Jelly Sandwich, happily long-established in her new family, happily in love with her housemate, the dog, Peanut Butter, happily reunited with her old friend had just heard a proposal that was definitely unexpected.
She didn’t know what to say.
So, Martin Foster, kneeling before her and Peanut taking their paws, his face serious, as befitted the solemnity of the moment, again said, “Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Sandwich, do you want to be my pets?”
Grape looked at Peanut, seeing he wasn’t any less fazed. Mizar and Alcor, however, sitting at the other end of the crowded couch, exchanged a knowing look. After all, it was to be expected that those two would know everything.
“Uh...” The cat did not go beyond that monosyllable. Fortunately, Earl said saved her, “Martin, is there anything we should know?”
The man, without getting up from the ground, nodded to the human Sandwich couple. Apart from Bill, who sat in the chair, the two humans stood, while all the pets were sitting on the couch. Fox next to Lucky, who in turn was next to Grape. Peanut was on the other side of the cat, and the two Foster animals after him.
“Our paths crossed a single, short time,” Martin said, without taking his eyes off of Grape. “And this has had a positive impact on both our lives. Grape, Princess, or Santa as we call her, has inspired my idea to come and live here and build the new shelter in the place of the previous lager, and I was able to recover from that temporary structure the very Lucky that she feared lost forever. Not to mention the unique possibility to have taken with me from the old shelter two beautiful creatures such as Alcor and Mizar. Earl, Jill, I believe in destiny, and I think I have to further weave my life into that of your two wonderful companions.
“I want to be their co-guardian, if they so choose. Although the law would allow me to ask you directly, I believe Peanut and Grape deserve to be asked in the first place.”
“What’s a co-guardian?” asked Peanut.
“A sort of uncle, baby,” said Jill. “So, if your family is experiencing... problems such as those that befell Grape and Lucky, he could take care of you, include you in his will, make sure that you will always have what you need to live a good life.”
Peanut, however, did not seem very enthusiastic. In fact, even without leaving the hand of Martin, his ears drooped and he started showing a scared-puppy expression. “But we won’t have those problems, we’ll never get separated, right? Never, right?”
Earl went to hug his dog, repeatedly stroking his back. “Never, my boy. We will stay together forever, like a good family should always do.”
“Forever and ever?” Whined Peanut
Grape understood him, poor creature. Peanut just couldn’t stand the stress, it was up to her to be close to him, support him when he felt nervous, just as his own spontaneous exuberance would infuse her serenity when she needed it...
“Forever and ever,” Earl repeated. “Martin just wants to be 110% sure you are well. He doesn’t want to take you away, silly.”
Peanut sniffled. The smile came back as fast as it had disappeared. “That’s good, then!” He turned to Grape, wagging his tail. “I’d love to have an uncle like Martin, wouldn’t you?”
Grape remembered when the man had given her warm milk and cookies, back when she was a sad and hungry stray. Little food, but precious enough to allow her to carry on, to enable her to reach the day where Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich would become her new parents... She owed her happiness to Martin Foster, and now he offered to give her the same security his own pets were given. What else could she say? “But of course I’d love that, Uncle Martin...” She drew a breath, remembering something of the story of how Alcor and Mizar had been adopted from that person. “Can I ask you a favor?”
The man, who already was shining with joy, nodded. “Anything you want, Grape.”
“It’s about Lucky.” She shifted her gaze to the malamute, who in turn was wagging his tail happily. Then back to Martin. “Could you also include him? I would really like for him to also never have to worry about the future...” She turned then with a look of apology to Bill. The policeman was a good man, and certainly knew what he was doing by adopting Lucky. But the idea that the poor dog could suffer once again, now that she had found him after all this time...
“I have already done so, in that sense,” said Martin, with that contagious smile that characterized him. “The new shelter’s policy provides that in case of... problems, the animal adopted is brought back to the structure, where he’ll receive the best care that a family would normally offer. And, worst case scenario, I will provide with my own funds for Lucky to live comfortably with you and Peanut, provided that Earl and Jill agree to this. Consider it a small personal favor.” He winked at the two humans.
Jill smiled as if she had just met an angel. Earl seemed to think about it, but by the way his mouth was curving up, it was clear what he had decided. “I guess it’s fine by us.”
“YAY!” Lucky threw up his arms, then hugged Grape, and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “Now everything will be alright for good, Princess! I can still call you Princess, right?”
The cat ruffled his headfur. “Sure you can. But only you.”
Lucky stuck his tongue out to Peanut, who smiled back.
“She’s my girlfriend, so there, nyah nyah nyah!” replied the Sandwich dog.
Martin stood up. “Excellent! Earl, Jill, Bill... My lawyer will make sure you have all the papers today. Now let’s leave these guys to enjoy their crowd bath. Fox, tell Bino that he can officially inaugurate the new headquarters of the GOD club at my place.” He looked toward the window in time to see four canine heads lower in a hurry. “I’ll have your garden fixed, Bill, don’t worry.”
Bill shook his head. “You’re really something, mister.”
Jill and Earl shook hands with Martin. “If there is anything we can do...” Earl began.
“Yes, you can prepare to curse me. I can be a very demanding boss, pure meritocracy.” It was during the preparations for the housewarming party, that Martin had hired the Sandwiches. Jill, despite having worked as nurse for humans at the Gardens’ retirement home, was more than willing to take care of the guests at the new shelter. Earl, with his talent as a mechanic, would manage the fleet. Including... “A helicopter. I almost forgot to tell you, Earl, a brand new Mi-26T. It will be the pearl of our service fleet, and you’ll take care of her as you would your kids, okay?”
Earl wanted to hug him.
“C’mon,” Grape said to Lucky, pushing him toward the door. “Now you and your new boyfriend must greet your adoring public.”
Fox blushed slightly. “Grape!” But he went to open it anyway.

The chorus that greeted the new dog of Babylon Gardens, and at the same time expressed their congratulations to Fox was enough to ruffle the fur of the two dogs...
“How long did you spend in that horrible place?”
“You’re a friend of Grape?”
“You’re supercute!”
“They say you were a real fighter on the streets!”
“You’re not a cat lover, right?”
“Hi, I’m Daisy!”
The questions came together with as many inspections by many paws and noses. For a moment, Lucky feared his fur would be sniffed off his body... Then he and Fox were raised as puppets by the crowd and carried in triumph.
“Come on, boys!” Someone barked. “Three cheers for Fox and our new friend! Hip Hip... “
“HOORAY!”
“Hip Hip...”
“HOORAY!”
“Hip Hip..?” And here the dog who led the chorus fell into a terrified silence all of a sudden, the others imitating him. Now everyone seemed scared to complete the chorus. Fido, in a similar situation earlier, had almost eaten them alive...
Fox sighed and said, “Uh, guys? It’s okay, we’re good. Really.”
“HOORAY!”

“Jealous?” Grape asked Peanut, laying a paw on his shoulder.
He looked to the ground, unsure, tapping the claws of his fingers in that characteristic way. “Well... a little? He is your first friend, he still loves you… and he’s cute...”
Grape pulled the brown dog to her. “Hey, silly mutt,” she said with the sweetest tone she had, and then girding his shoulders with her arms. “I’m in love with you. If I had to start all over again, from the moment we met, I would not change a thing... Except that stupid story of the false dates. Lucky is and will remain my special friend, and heaven knows I’m grateful because now he is again with me, but I love you and nobody else, OK? “And she underlined that concept with a long, gentle kiss.
“Sorry,” Peanut said afterward. Then he looked toward the door. “You think they’ll return him to us?”

“Jealous?” asked Martin to the corgi who was watching the improvised party from a distance, while the adoring crowd carried away Fox and Lucky.
The short dog showed, despite everything, half a smile. “I imagined that I couldn’t be the center of his life forever, but...” he sighed. “Now he will be too busy to keep up with his new friend–”
“KING!” came the voice of Fox. It had never sounded so happy... “C’mon!” He kept shouting, “Get over here! I will not celebrate without you!”
The corgi looked at Martin, imploringly, jumping and wagging his stubby tail.
The man pointed to the crowd with a dry nod. “March!”
For being a dog with such short legs, King could be very fast. Martin saw him jump on top of the crowd and get carried next to Fox and Lucky.
“How come you were afraid this would turn out a mess,” Alcor asked his human. “Yesterday you were so worried...”
Martin shook his head. “Well, it’s not a bombshell you drop every day. Peanut and Grape just started a new phase of their relationship, and I feared I would undermine it. I was afraid that Earl would see the idea of co-ownership as me meddling in his family, that Bill might send me to heck...” He sighed. “Sometimes I’m not used to seeing things go well. Heh, I bet you’ll think I’m starting to neglect you, between my job and reuniting families.”
Mizar and Alcor hugged him. “We wouldn’t want you any other way,” said Mizar. “...Although we do miss you a little.”
“You can always come with me to work. You still haven’t seen how many things I’ve already changed, even if it is a temporary solution...” Suddenly, it was as if a light bulb had turned on over his head. He was stroking his pets, but he was definitely thinking about something else. “Yeah, why hadn’t I thought about that before?”
“About what?” asked the female German Shepherd.
Martin smiled like a fox thinking about chickens. “A book.”

The three dogs were brought in triumph though the gates of Foster Mansion. They stopped only when faced with an unimaginable spectacle, which made them fall back into a disturbing silence.
They were looking at the buffet. Trays of canapés, stuffed savory pastries, sandwiches, cakes and cold drinks. Everything was placed around the chairs which were placed around a podium, and another table on which lay, held together by paper holders, piles of paper and pens.
In a moment, the ‘heroes’ of the day were forgotten in favor of food! All the dogs threw themselves on the food like a swarm of locusts, and for the next ten minutes the only sounds that could be heard were those of jaws and moans of alimentary pleasure.
“I read about pythons eating that much,” said Fox, genuinely impressed. “I think Bino will struggle to get their attention for the next hour or two.”
“Then we have some time to get to know each other,” said Lucky, sitting in the shade of a tree. When Fox had sat down, he held out his paw. “Nice to meet you, friend!”
Fox shook it vigorously. “My pleasure, friend! It’s good to be back to sharing a room with someone.”
“Bill told me that you love to read. Uncle Martin has given me a Kindle filled with e-books.”
“Ah, I still prefer the printed word... Did you use to read before you were...” he hesitated, not daring to even utter those words that etched pain in the life of any pet.
“Before being abandoned?” said Lucky. “Yes. I had some books, but I used to read mostly the magazines Mom gave me after she had read them, because of money, and I read the newspapers left by the nearby bar. I learned that the human world is really strange. What do you read, usually?”
“Oh, everything. I’ll give you something. Do you listen to music as well?”
“I love classical music.”
Fox’s ears pricked up. “Symphonic or popular?”
“Especially the latter.” Lucky stuck out his tongue. “Symphonic is beautiful, but overrated. Too noisy.”
“Greensleeves, but...” Fox was almost panting with excitement.
“...Sung by Frida Boccara,” Lucky sighed.
“Oh yeah!” said the two dogs in unison. “And the Hungarian ballads of the 13th century?” asked Fox.
“Almost as beautiful as that collection of ‘Songs of the New World’.” Lucky started singing in falsetto, in impeccable Italian, Vecchie letrose, non valete niente…
To which Fox replied with an unexpectedly deep voice a song in Latin, Gaudeamus igitur, Juvenes dum Sumus...
King, listening, decided that it was better to leave them alone. Heck, he began to think that at any moment they’d start cooing like two sweethearts!
“Hey, where are you going?” Fox’s voice stopped him.
“To get a sandwich, before even the tablecloth is eaten away.” King looked toward the buffet. “I think they’ve begun scouring just to find the crumbs.”
“Ah, don’t be silly, I know you’re jealous.” Fox held out his arms. “Come on, you can’t celebrate without a hug!”
The corgi gladly accepted. “You probably think I’m being a wuss, I’m sorry.”
“You apologize too often grouchy.” Fox rubbed his fist against his head. “And your taste in music isn’t bad at all!”
“I do not know if Mike Oldfield can keep up with the stuff you listen to...” teased the corgi.
Lucky pricked up his ears. “I love Mike Oldfield! I don’t know why he agreed to redo all those versions of Tubular Bells, when the original is unbeatable!”
“Yeah,” King nodded. “Only he could finish that album with that one song...” He concentrated for a moment, then started imitating perfectly the voice of a drunkard, as he said, The Hallway. From The Outside An Ordinary House. A Great House, Rooms 483 True... And then he began to whistle the tune of ‘The Sailor’s Hornpipe’, soon imitated by the other two.
When they had finished, Fox said, “Well, are you coming to the Fourth of July barbecue?”
“It depends,” said King. “If we have it here, which I think is very likely, Pete will let me come. For some reason when it comes to that Foster, it’s as if he wanted us become great pals. Which is fine with me.” He didn’t say it out loud, but it worried him. That evil, magic Griffin did not do favors for free, in fact, in exchange for this increased freedom, had had asked him to be his eyes and ears, reporting anything about the activities of Martin Foster.
Why?
That accursed, big parrot could teleport, transform people, and certainly observing from a distance was not a great effort for someone like him.
Then another thing came to King’s mind.
For the duration of the housewarming party, Pete had not showed up, except to exchange a brief chat with his ‘dog’. At that time, Pete had literally stopped the flow of time, but had been less coy than usual, as if he were in a hurry to leave. After that, he had kept himself away from Foster Mansion...
“King?”
He had not noticed he was staring at the building. It was said that things had happened in there, and nobody spoke about them, and the pets were strictly kept in the dark.
The former Whiteman House. The ‘Haunted Mansion’.
Redrum.
“King!!”
“GAH!” The dog jumped. His heart was racing like a horse, and he felt his throat and tongue dry as sand. It was almost the end of June, but King was definitely trembling. “I...” He turned to Fox. “Hey, I’m fine, really.”
Fox, however, was scared. “You looked like you had fallen into a trance, but what were you staring at? It’s just a house.”
King shook his head. “Old memories. Your boyfriend doesn’t have a monopoly on them, you know?” He gave Fox a mock punch on the shoulder.
Bill’s dog also gave him a playful shove, but sent him into roll. “Silly!” Then he stood up. “Well, it’s time to join the feast, or there won’t be even grass to graze.”
“How do we overcome them?” Lucky asked, noting the dense crowd. The tables almost disappeared in the sea of fur.
“Oh, it’s simple.” Fox leaned like Usain Bolt before the start. The other two dogs did the same. “Like Kevin always says: when in doubt, tackle! Ready... PACK ATTACK!” And off they went.

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Last edited by valerio on Fri Jan 13, 2012 3:39 am, edited 2 times in total.



Mon Apr 18, 2011 8:48 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Well, since I'm back to my creative block, for now I'll stick up with translating what I'vve written so far, hoping you folks have the patience to read it.
Enjoy!

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 8:49 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Hip Hip HOORAY! :D
I'm always glad to see a new translation for your fanfic, Valerio. I need more of this awesome story and am much to lazy to translate the Italian! :lol:

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 1:28 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Valerio, honestly who wouldn't have the patience for your story? It's too amazing! I'd attempt to translate it myself so I could read more but I never liked translators... they're such a bother.

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 1:33 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Worry not, CJ. I'll try to post at least a translated chapter a day. and thank you for your patience, although I must say that it is *I* who stay humbled at your prodigious ficcie. *bows*

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 4:00 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
I'm too lazy as well. Sorry for having dropped this, but Junior year is my busiest year yet, especially right now with the AP test, I'm just swamped with work and studying. I may start translating these again during the summer.

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 4:12 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Best... Early..... Birthday...... Present.......EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D :D :D

THANK YOU VALERIO! Thank you...

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Mon Apr 18, 2011 7:14 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
copper wrote:
Best... Early..... Birthday...... Present.......EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D :D :D

THANK YOU VALERIO! Thank you...

I aim to please *is working to next installment*

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Tue Apr 19, 2011 12:51 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
3.
“So, you even led a pack of strays,” asked Fox. The day was just perfect, seasoned with a generous lunch at the club’s buffet. Drunk with food, Fox, Lucky and King had listened to Bino’s speech with a sense of serenity, the words down to a distant hum.
And now there they were, under the shade of a tree, enjoying each other’s company. Nearby, there ran a stream when you could drink, according to their experience, the world’s freshest and finest water.
They talked a bit of everything, and inevitably the conversation had led to Lucky’s past as a stray.
“Not simple stray mutts” replied the Malamute. *Burp!* “They were true-blooded feral. Tough ones. *Burp!* Hmm, and you say that we can have this stuff once a week?” He licked his lips. All that time spent on the road first, and then at the old shelter, had made him forget real food. Only a few days before his departure from the temporary shelter, he had been given real pet food, not that vile-tasting mash which always gave him a stomach ache...
In truth, in all his life he had rarely eaten any human, non-scrap food.
“It depends,” said King. “The Good Old Dogs Club holds its meeting on Wednesday, Tuesday is reserved for the anime and D&D club of Joey and his friends, and if you attend the gym there are protein supplements and fitness food that is worth the fatigue, according to the members. “
“There is a fitness club for animals,” asked Lucky incredulously.
Fox replied by indicating Villa Foster. “Gym indoor, swimming pool included. And you look like you need to get back in shape.” He reached out to give a pat on Lucky’s tummy. “Under the house there seems to be enough room to build the equivalent of a second home.”
“Cool,” said Lucky. “I think I’ll go to the gym then. You with me? “
“Of course: I have a duty to be the top dog, at home.”
The two dogs laughed. King said, “Lucky, how did a scrawny mutt like you lead a pack of ferals? No offense, but you don’t even look as muscled as certain pups I’ve met.” And was tackled by.
Lucky frowned, looking at the sky. “I was stronger than I am now. In my wanderings I met these dogs, who chased cats to...” he shivered. “Three of them questioned me to see if I knew any cat they could use as their main dish. Well, that really got me furious, and I think it took me a minute to turn them into kitty litter. “
“Wow.”
“Yeah. When I was done with them, they proposed that I become the leader. They asked me my name, and, well... I couldn’t exactly tell them my real name, and so I told them to call me ‘Fang the Terrible’.”
King snorted a laugh. Fox found difficult to associate the pack leader of a feral gang with that name to a lover of reading and classical music; a dog who, in front of Grape, had melted into tears like a puppy with his mother.
But the fact that he was still alive at least proved that he had survived the streets, and that alone was the harshest test for any pet, as Fox knew so very well… “And what happened to your old pack?” asked Fox. Normally there was a tacit agreement to leave such chapters of one’s past behind, but Lucky seemed eager to talk about it. Perhaps because he wanted to exorcise it, this way, rather than let it fester inside his soul...
“I don’t know. The dog catcher got almost every one of use, but during the travel the same guy instead set us free, suggesting we flee toward the nearby shelter… that shelter. It was also the last time I saw Princess, because she went there, while I...” he sighed. “I have disappointed her many times, and that’s what makes me feel really bad. I always tried to be the center of attention, always sulking, making her feel like it was her fault. And she always did her best to cheer me up... And so she’d come up with these plans to cause trouble and mischief. She got most of the scolding, but when we were alone we’d laugh it off and we were happy. I didn’t deserve her...”
“So how come you started looking for her before you ended up in that terrible place?” asked King. He had been at the old shelter while accompanying Martin, and he couldn’t imagine a more fit description for that ‘corner of misery’.
“To make amends. I always got her into trouble, now I want to protect her. I owe that much to her. She’s my sister, and I have a responsibility towards her.”
Again, King snorted a laugh. “It’ll be fun to see, then.”
“King..!” Fox warned him.
“Why?” asked Lucky.
“You saw it, didn’t you? She’s completely devoted to Peanut, she already has her fearless knight at her side.”
The malamute shrugged. “Well, that means she’ll have one more knight at her side—”
”Hello!” The two voices exploded like thunder. The three dogs nearly had a heart attack, convinced a storm had just talked to them.
It was, instead, Babylon Garden’s two biggest dogs. “Hello, new dog,” they said in perfect synch as they were used to doing; mirroring each other, they held out their paws. “I am Antares,” said the black twin on the left. “I am Aldebaran,” said one on the right.
Lucky watched his paws get swallowed whole. “...My pleasure. *Eep!*” He was picked up like a doll.
The two Foster dogs sniffed and touched him here and there. “Hmm, he’s stunted,” said Antares. “*Tch!*Is he a Malamute or Chicken Little?” His brother shook his head, clicking his tongue. Then they exchanged a mischievous look.
“We can’t let him go around in this state.”
“Not at all, brother.”
“It’s a disgrace to the family’s reputation.”
“To the reputation of sister Grape.”
“And what shall we do about it?”
Antares put the poor Lucky over his shoulder like a chunk of meat. “Time to build up!” They said cheerfully, carrying their prey toward home...
“Hold on there where are you going, you monsters!”
At the call of Grape, the two dogs stopped. “Aw, little sister,” they said together.
The lavender cat, not at all impressed by the tonnage of her two stepbrothers, walked up to them until she could press a finger against the sternum of Antares. “Drop him, now! This was a tiresome day for him, you want to give him the coup de grace?”
Antares obeyed. Lucky looked fazed.
“He said he wants to be your knight,” said Aldebaran.
“We wanted to get him in shape, only a bit.” Antares’ ears were laying flat, his eyes downcast, his paws clasped behind his back.
“You will have time for that,” said Grape. “Let him adapt to his new life first, for Pete’s sake! Furthermore, it’s rude to keep a knight away from his lady. “She took Lucky’s arm under hers, and together they headed for the stream.

“I can hardly believe it.” Lucky remembered Princess was a tough kitty, but this! Those two black monsters would have scared a pack of ferals with their presence only.
“Ahh, they’re two big softies,” she taunted him, without leaving his arm. “They are two mountains, but they’re still puppies at heart.” Then she touched his chest. “Hm, but they are right, you’ve got to rebuild yourself. I want back my big dog, companion of many adventures.” Then she laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed. “I missed you so much. I still can’t believe that we are together again, I... I’m afraid to wake up. And I couldn’t stand...” She stopped, then she abandoned herself to a silent cry for a couple of minutes, while Lucky kept her inside his arms.
“How are these new parents?” Asked the malamute, when she had regained control.
*Sniff!* “They are wonderful, Lucky. Everything... the others were not. They don’t argue, they love us, and they came to live at the Gardens to be with pets. I wish you had been there too, at the shelter.”
“I guess there are so many things we both wish for.”
“Mm-hmm... You know, there was one thing I wanted to tell you.”
“I’m all ears.”

SLAP!
“Bad weather incoming?” asked Fox, looking in the sky, but there were no clouds.
“Bolt from the blue,” said King. “It happens.”

For what concerned him, Lucky was seeing a lot of stars in the day sky. He touched his cheek, disbelieving it was still attached to his face, after such a mighty slap. ”Why? “ He whined.
Grape rubbed her stinging palm. “Ask again, blockhead, and I’ll get the other cheek as well!” Then she shoved him and threw him buttward into the stream. She squatted and stared at him threateningly. “‘Fang the Terrible’, eh? Did you think I had forgotten?”
“Princess...” he tried to speak, but was silenced by a leonine growl.
“No puppy eyes with me, mutt, or I’ll gouge them! In those days I was terrified, I had spent days and days alone without knowing where to go, hungry, shivering, and I was sure that those ferals were about to eat me as their supper. And when I saw you again, instead of fighting to save my life, you appointed me as your personal servant because you were afraid that the big bad dogs would hurt you? What kind of pack leader were you?! I needed you, and you, and you...” Her fur had fluffed up until she looked like she had grown pounds of muscles, her eyes were flashing, her teeth were snapping at every sentence, as if she wanted to bite the words rather than pronounce them.
Then, as often happened in those outbreaks, as quickly as it had come, it passed. Grape sat down, exhausted. She shook her head, her paw resting on the forehead. “If I didn’t love you, Lucky, I swear I’d kill you. But I had to tell you, or I would have gone nuts. Furthermore, you’ve been punished enough for your stupidity. No need for the long face anymore.” She stood up and approached the poor dog, who almost jumped back, eyes filled with terror.
“And stop it, silly. I already have my puppy-eyed mutt and that’s enough. Truce?” She crouched and held out her paw.
“Truce,” Lucky said, grabbing her and pulling... hard!
“GAH!” Grape tumbled into the water, drenching the dog for good. When she kneeled up, she looked like she had lost a couple of pounds. Her fur was completely drenched and stuck to her body.
Lucky laughed like mad, holding his belly. “Oho ahahahaha! Heavens, you should look at yourself! Eheheheh! You look like the Princess of the Pond, now!”
“I can think of another classic, ‘brother’...” Grape crouched, tail lashing. “*’Superior Stabat Agnus’...” And with a wolfish roar, she leapt at him.

And while the two pets romped in the torrent, laughing like puppies, someone at a safe distance watched the scene, unsure whether to be happy for Grape or sad for himself.
“It’s not polite to spy on your girlfriend,” said a voice behind him. Peanut spun around, pinhole pupils and neck fur standing on end. Seeing who it was, his heart started beating normally. “Oh, Fido.”
Babylon Garden’s most popular dog sat leaning against a tree, then slapped his hand on the ground, inviting Peanut to do likewise.
“We thought you were with Sabrina,” said the Sandwich dog.
“Actually, I was hoping to. But these days she and Tarot are staying at home, they won’t even answer the phone. I don’t know what’s happening, and when I went at their house to ask, yesterday night, she just leaned from the window and looked at me with this expression...” he shuddered. “When she’s like that, all I can do is wait.” He folded his arms behind his head.
“I’m sorry that you still haven’t told anyone,” said Peanut. “We missed you at Joey’s club party.” Joey had decided that at least once a year, he was to celebrate the first public outing of a mixed dog/cat couple, as a tribute to the courage shown by Peanut and Grape during the party of Uncle Martin. During Joey’s party, Peanut had discovered the existence of eighteen other mixed pairs. The Good Old Dogs club had gone into a panic.
“It was you that we were talking about,” said Fido.
Peanut sulked. “Not much to say. Things between me and Grape are… okay. “
“I know that. It’s you who thinks otherwise. Look at you, you’re acting as if you’ve already lost her.”
Peanut turned his head to peer out from behind the tree, and saw that Lucky and his girlfriend were lying in the sun, head to head, panting and drenched. “We’re not playing those games anymore. We are intimate, true, but at the same time it’s as if I didn’t know who she is anymore. And I... I can’t even ambush her anymore, I’m always afraid of breaking her...” He scratched his head. “I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m afraid.”
Fido instead gave him a smile and wagged his tail. “Oh, I know what you mean. Love her, love her with all your soul and all your heart. She is no longer just your playmate now. Now you care about her more than ever, and inside you’re afraid to make the wrong move. You’re growing, Peanut, and so is Grape.”
“Really?” He said with a sudden spike of enthusiasm.
“Of course. Believe me, it is a delicate stage for both of you. Grape is lucky, she’s back with her long-lost brother, and you’d also need a friend to play with and let off steam... That’s it. Hakuna matata.”
Peanut put his paws in his lap. “I don’t know. Tarot is weird... I mean, she’s fun in her own way, I mean, she’s not so...” He blushed.
“‘Physical’? I can imagine. Then you may turn to the Foster pets. They seem willing to help. Especially Aldebaran and Antares.”
Peanut thought of his bones and suddenly felt a little scared. “But... I want to be happy with Grape, not with somebody else!”
Fido shook his head. “You’re already happy with her Peanut. You just have to have the courage to accept that you also have your own life, just like she has hers. Believe me, I’m talking from experience. I love Sabrina with all my might, but that doesn’t prevent me from giving my all to my job, because it’s in my nature to help others. Just as it is in yours to be helpful to others, and to be playful, and to be a good artist. “
Peanut pricked up his ears. “Did you read my comic?”
Fido nodded. “I read it through the blog of those two lunatic stepbrothers of yours. I think it’s very good, you should dedicate more time to it.”
Peanut felt as if he was burning with pride! His tail was beating so hard against the tree that it could have dented the trunk. “I’m glad you like it!”
“And tell me, would you throw away all the good work you’re doing?”
“Of course not ... Oh,” Peanut understood. “It’s complicated.”
“I know. And the worst part is that there are no instruction manuals.” Fido stroke Peanut’s head. “There are things you learn with experience. Give Grape her room, just like she’ll do with yours. And always remember that you will always be there for each other. Tell her you love her, but don’t make it a ritual. Pet her, but don’t choke her. Stay with her, but remember that sometimes she will ask advice and comfort from someone else as well…”
Peanut nodded. “Wow. And...” Here turned a fiery brick-red shade, “Do you think she likes to sleep cuddled with me?”
Fido almost burst out laughing, and had to clamp his muzzle with his paws. “Oh, heavens, Peanut, you have to ask? I so wish Sabrina and I could spend every night like you and Grape do, instead of waiting for the right circumstances! Rest assured, no matter how difficult the day may be, at the end of it those magical hours together are the best remedy to wipe out all melancholy!”
Peanut was about to turn and look again toward the glade... Instead, he held himself, then stood up, followed by Fido. “I guess you’re right. I have to be more trustful. For both of us.”
Fido put on his sunglasses. “That’s the spirit, pup... Uh, why you’re staring at my headfur now?”
Only now Peanut noticed that there was something out of place with his hero… or, rather, someone. “Where’s Spo?”
“Oh? I think he’s somewhere at Foster Mansion digesting a sandwich bigger than he is. Come on, let’s go. I’ll bet there’ll be lots of dogs who want to chat with you at the meeting.” Fido took Peanut by the arm. The younger hound let himself be pulled away, although he did throw a last glance in the direction of Grape.
---
*Burrrrp!*
Despite being a minuscule mouse, Spo had a powerful voice and an enviable belch.
It had been a long time since he could stuff himself like this; one day or the other, a cat could mistake him for a Christmas Turkey... Speaking of which, he must remember to ask that nice Mr. Foster to extend the Eve’s invitation to his family. Even the scraps of a party in this place could keep their bellies fully until the next Thanksgiving.
Spo yawned loudly, and scratched his rounded tummy. Hmm, perhaps he could move here, instead of nestling on Fido’s head... Nah, who would be watching that mutt’s back? And encourage him to be a real police dog? Man, that guy sometimes acts as if he were Lassie’s dumb brother, what with all his nice acting!
He saw a cat and almost had a fit! “Oh, hey, bro, sis or whoever you are.” He said, nodding a greeting. Darn those cats and their stealth! Lucky for him, Martin had told every pet to stay away from his mouse guest and from Squeak.
The gray female tabby said nothing. She looked around as if looking for something. Her face was an impassive mask.
Spo felt a shiver run along the entire body. He swallowed, praying that this gal had been warned as well... “Er, is there anything I can do for you? You know, I’m the K-9 Unit’s mascot, and... You’re not a very talkative kind of guy, eh?”
The cat turned to leave.
Spo saw something in that cat.
And he knew that the sight would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life
When, much later, he recovered, Spo would decide it was time to investigate further into the lovely home of Martin Foster...

SEASON I
Episode 5
Fin

*Latin: the lamb was higher. Referencing the poem ‘Superior Stabat Lupus’ the wolf was higher

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Last edited by valerio on Fri Jun 29, 2012 9:23 am, edited 3 times in total.



Tue Apr 19, 2011 5:47 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
=D you started translate again. I tried to read it with Google translate but it was a horrible amount of wrong translated words. But now i can finely start reading the continuation.

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Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:21 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Darn Antares and Aldebaran almost got their hands on Lucky! That would be amusing! Also I love Fido, he's just so amazing! It's nice Peanut looks up to him, he makes a great role model! Fabulous as always Valerio, got me all excited and such!

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Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:21 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Uhh oh... creepy kitties and plot development. Oh my..

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Tue Apr 19, 2011 9:26 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Great update. A wonderful birthday present for me. :D

Peanut is growing into an awesome little guy, huh?

G-G-G-Ghost! Oh No!!! :lol:

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HOUSEPETS! The Series
Episode 6 – Investigation
Written and Translated by VALERIO (later fixed by Obbl)

1.
Babylon Gardens Police Precinct

“Spo?” Fido opened the door of his locker to reveal the mouse well huddled under a tiny cover. “Hey, we’re gonna be late.”
Usually, the little mouse was very eager to jump on the police dog’s head and stick into his fur as if he had glue in his paws; Fido still wondered why he hadn’t become the K-9 Unit’s official mascot.
However, since the day before, Spo... had changed. Fido had gone to pick him up after leaving him in the kitchen eating a snack. He had expected to find him in a blissful digestion-coma state, instead the mouse was fully awake, sitting on the edge of the table, and wide-staring eyes. When Fido had called him, Spo had nearly jumped out of his own fur. He reeked of fear. And the dog’s attempts to ask him what had happened were met with evasive answers, to say the least. Then Spo had closed himself in an unnatural silence, he who used to express his thoughts and feelings at a volume worthy of a megaphone. Indeed, the real problem with Spo was usually keeping him quiet...
“I’m sorry, go on without me,” said Spo, turning his back to the dog, and snuggling deeper into cover. His voice was colorless.
Fido frowned. “Spo?”
“Yeah?”
“You... you would tell me if you had any problems, right? You know you can count on me.” Actually, Fido had a natural inclination to help everyone, but with Spo it was different. The mouse had been entrusted to him by his girlfriend, the cat Sabrina, who wouldn’t kill him despite her job as a house cat. Sabrina was, simply, unable to harm any living being.
At first, Spo was supposed to be just another feral to take care of for a while and then let it go. Routine... But in the end, Fido had grown fond of that tiny, talkative rodent. And though at first the dog had made it clear that if Spo had spilled anything about his affair with Sabrina, Fido would’ve put him into Grape’s lunch, now it was the mouse who wouldn’t break the secret in respect towards the police dog. The two had become a team, and it hadn’t taken long before he was accepted by the rest of the Unit. They called him and Fido the new ‘Doc & Smith’.
“Of course I’d tell you. I live to torment you, boss,” said Spo. “Go bite some baddie butt. I just need my beauty sleep.”
Fido left the door of the cabinet ajar, remembering that Spo was claustrophobic.
Nestled in the shadows, Spo waited until he was sure he heard Fido walking out the locker room. Then he sat up.
“Any problems...” he murmured. “Hah.”
What could he say? “I’m sorry if I look a teensy-weensy scared, Fido, my dearest pal. You see, while you were away, I saw a ghost. Yes, but not one of those with a bedsheet, or one of those hyped up on their special Torment Blend coffee, no. This one was quiet, polite, did not say a word but walked without even rustling, and when I saw her neck, she had a gash that... Yeah, sorry for not telling you the details but trust me, no one with such an injury could possibly be alive. That gal was dead, Fido, really really dead. And now, my buddy, before you think to call for a shrink or an exorcist, how about telling me something about the happy Foster Mansion, when it was called Whiteman House... no, the ‘Haunted Mansion’? Because until yesterday I didn’t believe in ghosts, and I wouldn’t be happy if a good man like Martin Foster got his nose stuck into an ectoplasmic quagmire, because if something bad happens to him then it happens to half of Babylon Gardens as well. And that just wouldn’t be darn FAIR!”
Spo had vented all of that in a go, a record even for him, ending it in such a hysterical tone that he was sure he’d been heard up to the roof of the police station.
Spo pressed his fists against his temples. “Mice are brave, mice are brave...” And this was true: Mice had way too many natural enemies and far too many obstacles in their short lives to waste time worrying at every grass’ rustle. If there was a problem that was unsolvable, you avoided it. If you could solve it, all the better. No compromises.
For this, too, Spo loved sticking with Fido: That dog was more than a friend, he was protection against Spo’s unsolvable problems. In return, the mouse gave him all his moral support and encouragement.
Right now, Spo had a terrible fear. Since yesterday, he’d still been expecting to turn around and see that spooky tabby with her… sad expression…
Yes, thought Spo. Come to think of it, the cat wasn’t expressionless. She was sad, so sad. She looked around slowly, looking for who knows what with those sad eyes...
She was looking for the bones of her neck. Spo swallowed hard as he tried to resume a regular breathing rhythm.
He couldn’t talk to Fido. Fido was busy with his colleagues in the investigations about the scoundrels who had piled hundreds of animal skeletons into a mass grave, treating the rests like trash, instead of burying them at the Remembrance Hill Pet Cemetery, to save on the costs of the funeral services. And the mass grave had been set under the old shelter/lager’s crematorium, the very shelter that Martin Foster had bought to reorganize it into a real hostel for pets and ferals…
The guy seemed to have a predisposition to look for the worst places to start a business!
Spo remembered well what the old Haunted House looked like, before it had been rebuilt into the Gardens’ second best-looking premise. Unfortunately, a mouse’s short and intense life didn’t allow for the development of a written culture like any other animal – heck, even the wolves could afford the time to study!
Mouse culture was oral. The elders knew many interesting stories, some of which were worth being represented on a stage.
But when it came to Whiteman House, what was the word? Spo thought about it. And no... he remembered nothing.
There were many, many rumors to be told, he remembered since he was a child, but not a version on which the elders would agree on.
Spo was sure that if he had put a direct question to any one of them, probably they wouldn’t have known what to say.
“Back to Square One,” Spo sighed. If he couldn’t rely on Fido, if he couldn’t get help from his very own people…
Actually, no, old boy! And, for the first time that day, Spo smiled. He showed an expression very similar to Max’s when the cat came up with one of his funny plans.
He knew who to turn to...
---
William MacKillan.
Better known as ‘Mac’.
A loser, if you ever met one. He continued to boast of having had an ancestor who had fought alongside the great Wallace the ‘Braveheart’. And since every time his references were suspiciously close to the movie with Mel Gibson, people would stop listening to him, eventually.
Actually, when he was six, William had decided he didn’t like being called ‘Bill’. And he started beating his classmates until they learned to call him ‘Mac’.
Brute force had become since then his mother language. Son of a difficult family, he had learned that the only way to earn something in life was to put on a tough face and keep his fists ready. IQ was overrated.
Mac had jumped from job to job, all minimum wage, all hard, all taken by force. He had eventually accepted with pleasure the offer to manage some dirty business at Babylon Gardens’ old shelter. Its trustees were two pompous washouts. He only had to make sure the chef got the pet food he was told to provide – stuff that he wouldn’t have given to starving rats – at a properly inflated price and get a nice tip from that. Throw away the bodies of the animals that were supposed to be cremated, so the funeral home could save on gas. And keep the beasts in the shelter quiet. That was the fun part, it was fun messing with their minds and then punishing them to keep them down and silent.
Everything came to an end when that fanatic animalist, Foster, had come. In one day, he had taken the management upon himself, and had fired the staff members he disliked. That same day, Mac had learned there was someone who could knock him out.
With one fist. Mac had suffered serious injuries to the stomach, a kidney and liver. Indeed, he believed that the fanatic had tied his colon to his spine as well. In another circumstance, Mac would have even felt a form of respect for a guy capable of such a hook... But that such a guy could waste his time and energies taking up the defense for a pack of dumb beasts... it was inconceivable!
Mac hated him.
And he hated being in the middle of a series of investigations regarding his ‘business’. His lawyer, a public chicken, was trying to negotiate for mistreatment, but the judge (a darned woman, would you believe it?!) seemed more prone to put Mac on the Old Sparkle, if she had the chance. Then the bodies had been discovered. And the District Attorney’s offer had raised to 1 year for each corpse. That made it a life sentence, unless Mac decided to cooperate in shining details. But Mac had kept his ground: no agreement, no confessions about his complicity. He was convinced that in the end everything would turn into a much milder sentence. It was just animals, for heaven’s sake!
Mac wasn’t used to think in long term: he had not bothered to hide the bodies because at most, he thought, the Milton simpletons would have taken the heat, while he’d have changed State. Maybe a vacation in California, yeah...
Instead, because of that meddling, fanatic Foster, now he was sitting in a hospital bed and under siege from prosecutors, police, furious pet owners, PETA activists... Heck, why not add Jehovah’s Witnesses and fairies as well?!
And worse still, that unbelievable pain in his bowels! He was living on morphine, he who had never even touched a cigarette. He’d become a junkie by the time he left that accursed hospital!
Everyday, the nurse brought him some disgusting slop and jelly. The way she looked at him, he was sure she had spat in the food, beforehand. As soon as he got out of that place, no matter if they sent him to Alcatraz, he’d make sure to get some real food, or there would be blood to shed...
At that moment the door opened.
He imagined that it was the DA, that guy was a living clock...
“Hello, Mac,” said Martin Foster, entering. The man closed the door softly. “How’s my favorite hitman? Got it?”
Mac tried to move, but his sutures gave him painful warnings. The man slumped against the pillow. He was very pale.
Martin sat next to him. He took from his pocket a small black tape recorder and put it on the nightstand. He smiled. He smiled just like before giving him that punch...
Martin pointed at the recorder. “This is Mr. Sony. He’s a guy who loves to listen to others speak, doesn’t miss a single word. And I’m sure you have many, many things to say about your job at the old shelter. You know, extra chores, friends, accomplices, supplies... C’mon.” He gave a couple of pats on Mac’s shoulder, making him startle – and suffer more pain from the stitches. “You only have to be honest. The truth will keep you alive. “
Mac looked desperately at the door. Where was the cop that was supposed to keep an eye on him..?
“I gave him a very hefty bribe, and now he’s in the bathroom counting the floor tiles,” said Martin, giving voice to Mac’s thoughts. “Said it’s more interesting than standing your whines.”
“You can’t force me talk,” Mac gasped “You just can’t. It would be illegal, and my lawyer...”
Martin’s smile had assumed a devilish tone. “Let Uncle Martin care about those trivialities, dear. You only have to worry about singing like a bird in springtime, yes?”
“Go (censored) yourself!” Mac somehow found the strength to show off a sneer of contempt. “I’m gonna confess to the DA in exchange for a plea bargain, and I’ll be out in less than a year, and you and your precious fleabags will have to watch your back... What are you doing?”
Martin had firmly grabbed Mac’s thumb.
He wasn’t smiling anymore.

SNAP!
The sound reverberated like a whip.
The cop, still in the bathroom, lit a cigarette and whispered, “Totally worth it.”
He hadn’t been bribed, actually. As owner of a dog whom he loved like a son, he had willingly stepped aside. That wasn’t the right thing for a law enforcement officer to do, but Martin had promised enough solid evidence to throw the vermins into the pit for years to come, instead of seeing them pleading for an easy bail out...

Mac was about to faint. Only Martin’s hand, firmly pressed against his mouth, had prevented his shouting from being heard.
With the other hand, his ‘guest’ was still clutching his thumb broken in two at the phalanx.
The pain was unbearable, but Mac was focused on Martin, who was staring at him with demonic eyes and an expression like the Grim Reaper’s. His voice was strangely calm, but full of storm at the same time. It was like watching at a hurricane nearing the coastline…
“One gone. There are two hundred and six bones in the human body, William MacKillan. Do you want me to break them one by one, with my bare hands, before I inflict some lethal damage?”
Moaning through the hand shutting his mouth, Mac shook his head. His eyes flew to the recorder placed on the nightstand.
Martin smiled. “Wonderful. Now I’ll pull my hand away, you’ll take a deep breath, calm down and tell everything to Mr. Sony. And if I’ll find out that you lied on a single letter...” For a moment, the Grim Reaper was back.
Mac swallowed. He nodded frantically, and Martin took his hand off the mouth, but still holding the limb he had just wounded. Martin pushed the ‘Record’ button, and Mac began to speak, without omitting a single detail.
As noted earlier, Mac respected force.
---
There was another reason why Spo appreciated his front row seat on Fido’s head.
What that hound would consider ‘walking distance’, were miles to go for the tiny mouse. Heck, he had forgotten how extensive Babylon Gardens was. It would’ve taken all day for him to reach the other end of the suburban pet friendly community.
Lucky for him, the mouse community was well distributed throughout the underground. Spo just had to squeeze into a sidewalk’s drain, and from there along the tunnels. He didn’t even need to wait for long, while walking in the dimly lit darkness, before—
“Halt!”
In the darkness, a dozen flaming lights were lit in rapid succession. Spo stayed where he was.
Soon after, he found himself surrounded by a crowd of twenty mice. He looked like a prince, his fur clean and smooth, while the others were marked by their feral condition.
A mouse with a bandage over the left eye stepped forward. “Look what we got here, the representative from the so-called enlightened society. To what do we owe such honor, comrades? “He asked, without turning, to other mice. They all giggled maliciously.
Spo stood face to face with the other mouse, almost touching his nose. “Comrade Joseph Boris Trotsky, I’m not here for a reunion, nor to trying to make propaganda in favor of humans and their pets, save confirming that if you get them from the right side they’ll treat you like royalty. And please don’t start one of your tirades, I have a more urgent problem than your petty revolution.”
J.B. stroked his chin. “More important than the revolution? Big talk, plump servant of the oppressors. Spoken like a true counter-revolutionary, but you got guts. I will listen, instead of having you hung. Speak.”
Spo described his supernatural experience to the smallest detail. And again, had to stop a couple of times to shiver.
When he was done, the other mice didn’t look bold at all. Boris said only, “You’re here to know what happened in that place, right?”
Spo nodded. “My friends, that Foster guy will be happy to leave so many leftovers to satisfy our needs for years to come, but I don’t think he could donate much to the revolution, if we don’t discover what’s transpiring.”
The mice put out their torches one by one, until only one remained lit, illuminating the two mice as they were spectral presences themselves.
“That human must leave that place,” said Joseph Boris Trotsky. “I’ll let you live because you must warn him, ex-comrade Spo. Tell him straight out.”
“Tell him what!? He won’t believe me on my own word, you know? “
“Everyone has made a deal,” said another mouse, from the shadows. “No one must even remember certain things. Humans don’t speak about it, and for once they decided wisely.”
A breeze made the last flame tremble. While it was going out, Joseph said, in a low voice, as if he were afraid of being heard, “There are ghosts that should not be disturbed...”
---
Whistling, Martin left the hospital without any hurry. He went to the parking lot, and from there to his car.
Aboard, he found waiting for him in the passenger seat, a man of about his age, dressed only in a white shirt with unbuttoned collar. The car was reeking with cigarette smell, and wisps of smoke were lazily decorating the air.
“That stuff will kill you,” Martin said, closing the door. “You could at least tell me, I would’ve left the air conditioner on.” He pressed a button, grimacing from the scent. “I’m trying to quit that, you know?”
That stuff is dangerous to your health, Martin,” he said. “And I didn’t spill ash on your upholstery, right?”
While the smoke was sucked from the grids on the dashboard, Martin took the recorder from his coat, opened it and gave the tape to his guest. “What do you say, Simon? Ready light up the fireworks?”
The reporter took the tape, looking like a proud father at the birth of his first son. “A 4th of July with the A-Bomb. Simon says that starting tomorrow, those crooks will be needing the National Guard to be protected. Got everything?”
Martin grinned like a wolf. “That and even more. And with such a confession fed to the media before even the DA, the prosecutor will make shreds of any agreement and will use the testimony as evidence during the trial.”
“Ain’t you afraid that Mac could still negotiate?”
Martin’s predatory smile became even more sinister. “I think he understood that staying in a cell for the rest of his life would be his better option. Does your blog have a good following?”
“The best. ‘Simon Says...’ is read throughout the Gardens, and the other bloggers and radio stations love me as their source. The cops will only have to go to our common foes with the handcuffs ready.” The reporter had lost his two cats, recently, to old age. He had trusted the corrupted pet funeral home to have them properly buried, only to discover they had been treated like trash…
Simon pocketed the tape and opened the door. “Tomorrow at eight o’clock, go to my blog and you’ll see the fur fly. See ya! And thank you.”
Martin watched the reporter get into his car. Now, he had to take care of the next item on his list, a problem far too long delayed.
Roger Hartford.
The owner of Sasha.

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Wed Apr 20, 2011 3:59 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Yet another great update Valerio. You must be drinking a lot of energy drinks or something. I mean, three updates in three days!? You beast! :lol:


Spo is really doing his detective work right! Bravo for him.

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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
2.
Florence House

‘Fatigue’ is often a relative term.
You may get bored of music you’ve heard too many times.
You may be tired after a long exercise.
You may feel tired of your very existence.
Nerves may break down with tiredness.
Sometimes you just feel tired, for no reason.
Add up all these gradations of fatigue.
Multiply it all by ten.
You won’t be even close to the level of sheer exhaustion of Tarot and Sabrina.
The golden-haired Pomeranian, and her black cat housemate, were sitting back to back at the center of a pentagram traced in gold and silver, the inner circle strewn with mystic seals around its circumference. Each seal was burning with an unearthly silver colored flame. Flames the intensity of which reflected the two pets’ willforce, a force that was rapidly declining after a prolonged effort that had proven very taxing.
The two females sat there, panting heavily, standing only because they were supporting each other.
Fido had wondered why, in the past few days, Sabrina had kept him at bay. Had he known the truth, Sabrina thought as she tried to stay awake, it would have been much worse than letting everyone know about their relationship. Poor Fido, my sweet love, how many other things must I keep hidden from you?
“It’s a weakness,” said Tarot. Drops of her saliva fell on the thick neck fur adorning her chest. “They know it, they use it. You *pant! pant!* must solve it...”
“Do you think this is the time *pant! pant!* to talk about me and Fido, you inquisitive canine?”
“Should be it an obstacle in our efforts to placate the restless spirits of Foster Mansion, yes. You need to understand that it is not your love for Fido that weakens you, but your fear of losing him.” Tarot tried to get up, but doing so startled Sabrina who was leaning on her back. Apprentice and teacher ended up in a very undignified heap.
Sabrina, lying where she was, staring at the ceiling, said, “These things won’t be ruled by force of command, Tarot. For the same reason, I could not claim the right to control your feelings for Peanut.”
“True,” answered Tarot, with Sabrina still sprawled across her back. She was too tired even to feel uncomfortable in that position. “But it doesn’t depend on me or you. The restless spirits of Whiteman House are gathering their forces. The longer Martin stays there, the greater their influence becomes. We must be stronger, more focused, to keep their presence at bay. And despite our efforts, the first intrusions have begun.”
*Sigh!* “I know you’re right, Tarot. And I told Fido that I’d be ready to bless the moment he tells the world about us... But still I hope he won’t. I’ve already lost...” Sabrina ran her hand on her belly, feeling the scar just below the surface. She had already given so much, losing him would have been simply unbearable.
“Then we’ll lose.” Tarot managed to break free from the weight of her friend, and helped her to her kneel. She felt every muscle protest as if her whole body was cramping. “If our hearts are not less than steadfast, we are fated to fail.”
---
“Hi, Spo!”
Sitting on the curb, Spo was considering the idea of letting a pedestrian step on him. Joseph Boris Trotsky was a toughie, even despite his revolutionary fads. But he knew everything about everybody, gathering information was his second nature. Blackmail was his best weapon.
J.B. would never show any weakness or fear, he’d skin himself alive instead. But from the way he reacted to the mere mention of the ‘Haunted Mansion’... and what he said...
‘Some ghosts are not to be disturbed’.
What ghosts? Okay, he had seen a dead cat walking in the kitchen. And that was enough to turn his blood into Ice-9.
But what was the history of that place? How could he find out if all those he spoke with shut up like clams?
“Spo?” repeated the voice from his left.
The mouse turned up his head to see who it was. “Oh, hi there, Joey.”
Joey. Fido and Bino’s younger brother. President of the D&D and Anime association, President of the Mixed Breeds Social Club. Best friend of a female mouse, Squeak, and of the Sandwich pets. Mistakenly seen as just a weird guy. “Can I help you? You really look down, no offense.” Joey sat down. He offered his paw to Spo, palm upwards.
The mouse hopped on the paw, and let himself be carried up to Joey’s head fur. “Hello, Squeak,” he said at the sight of the regular-sized mouse. It was the first time he had ever met her, after hearing about her from Fido. Despite the fact that she dwarfed him, Spo, for a moment, forgot about his troubles. He thought, seeing her standing on Joey’s head, that perhaps Fido had launched a new fashion…
“Joey’s right, you look like you need a friend,” Squeak said. “Fido dumped you?”
Spo shook his head. “I have this problem and no one to ask for advice... What do you two know about the old Haunted House?”
Joey thought it over for a moment. “That it was a creepy place, and I’m glad that there is the new mansion, with that nice Mr. Foster and his pets.” He wagged.
Squeak gave Spo a scathing glaze. “What do you want to know?” she asked. She didn’t want Joey to have any trouble, even for such a cute mousie...
“Everything. I...” Spo sighed, and for the second time he narrated in detail his experience at Foster Mansion. When he was done, he said, “Joey, don’t tell anyone, especially Mr. Foster, his pets, or Peanut and Grape... well, anyone. First I have to find out what’s in this story, but it seems that even humans avoid talking about it. And I’m worried. A lot.”
“Maybe I know the right person, then,” said Joey, as he stood up. “Hold on, I’m gonna run!”
---
“Someone didn’t sleep much,” Fox said.
The last time Lucky had lived in a real home, it had been back with his first… owners, the people he couldn’t even remember as ‘parents’. So long ago…
In the first days of his stray life, falling asleep was a terrible experience. Part of his mind kept screaming that closing his eyes made him vulnerable, and after a restless night, the following day he was so dazed that the moment he closed his eyes he’d discover he had slept at least six hours.
After his days of wandering, he had ended up in that pithole of a shelter. Even today, when he thought about the dog catcher who had let him free instead of taking him to the pound, he wondered if he just wanted to save his job at that place, ‘act of mercy’ his fuzzy butt!
At the shelter, he had a roof over his head but it was grimly compensated by Mac’s atmosphere of terror and physical abuses. In that place, his last attempt to find his friend Princess Periwinkle, pardon Grape Jelly, had been for naught, and he had sunk into depression, not talking to anyone, anymore.
Until that Martin Foster, the shelter’s new owner, had made a miracle. He and Princess were together again, and although not living under the same roof, they still were neighbors. And he had a new friend and brother to live with…
But he could not sleep. “I keep fearing that you’ll steal my dinner, or something else, when I sleep. Or rather, not you, Fox, but...”
Fox sat next to his new housemate, and hugged him gently. “I know. Because of PETA I was a stray myself, for some time. It couldn’t be half as hard as what you’ve been through.” Lucky and Grape had been abandoned, betrayed by their own family, while Fox had been kidnapped. Whatever he had suffered, he knew his Dad was looking out for him, knowing he’d do anything to find his beloved dog.
Lucky returned the hug. “Will this fear ever pass?”
“It will pass. You just have to get used to the thought and the fact that those days are over. Come.” He stood, and helped him on his feet. Lucky followed him to the trunk where Fox kept a ratpack assortment of mementos. The silvery husky called it his own ‘time capsule’.
Fox opened the trunk and took the object that lay on the top of the pile: an old photograph. It was crumpled, its colors faded by time, and it showed Fox standing in a box padded with a blanket. Beside him stood a female of some mixed breed short deep brown fur and a rounded black spot in the middle of her chest. She had a triangular erect ear and one still floppy.
Fox gently stroked the photo. “Felicia. This is all that’s left of her. I have a copy of this picture saved on the computer... But this is... it’s like being able to touch her again.”
“Did you love her?”
Fox nodded. “Maybe it was love, but I had no time to find out. A drunken woman at the wheel took her away. Dad was never so close to losing his job, the way he reacted. There were many more photos of me and Felicia, but he destroyed them all, he couldn’t bear to see her even in a picture. As for me... The world around me was still a nice place, I had many friends, but I no longer had the courage to have someone close to me, at home. Every time I walked in here, I closed the door on my problems… and on the possibility of facing them.”
“Martin...”
“He has to do with this only up to a certain extent. He gave us a choice, not an obligation. He told us why it was important that Dad adopted you, but Dad could still have said no. There were other candidates Martin wanted to interview. The fact is… Dad was waiting for a response from me. And I decided that I must stop suffering for something that I wasn’t guilty of. At that moment, that night, I realized that I had been given a chance to end the pain.” Fox wrapped Lucky’s shoulder with his arm. “I hope that you will be patient with me. I tend to be overprotective, pedantic, and when I start talking about a book that I like I won’t stop. Oh, and don’t you dare speak ill of The Betrothed: There is no book better, to read. Anyway, what’s mine is yours, so you can get anything you want. And be patient with King as well, he’s a nice guy but he can be really jealous. And Bino! Bino will see me sticking with anyone as a threat to his position of ringleader…”
Lucky interrupted him by yawning widely. “For now I’d settle for a long nap, if you don’t mind... Can you do me a favor?”
“Whatever you want,” Fox wagged.
“Can you lay close to me..? I don’t want to sleep alone.”
---
“Hey, Zap!”
His full name was Abraham Zapruder Erskine. Since he was a puppy, he had shown an insatiable interest in everything electrical or electronic. His first attempt to analyze a cable, the thin black thing that ran all those wonderful machines, ended with a mild electric shock. Since then, his parents had nicknamed him ‘Zap’.
His parents were obsessed with political conspiracies. They weren’t the type to believe in UFOs and Area 51, but there was no government or institution, regardless of political color, that wouldn’t end up under their accurate scrutiny. Mr. Horace and Linda Erskine were history teachers, tailor-made jobs for access to the material that interested them.
They had named their only dog after the tailor who made the famous film of President Kennedy’s death.
Zap shared some of his parents’ interests, but still his heart and soul went to electronics of every kind. He had filled his room with magazines and tools he had built all by himself.
Upon hearing his name, the silver-gray Weimaraner lifted his golden eyes from the mother board on which he was working, and leaned out the window, looking down. “Joey! Hi there, Intel surplus!” He waved his arm.

Spo glanced curiously at Squeak.
“His way of saying that I’m weird,” said Joey, shrugging. Then at the other dog, “Zap, we need a favor! Can we come up?”
“Mi casa es tu casa, Joey! Hold on, I’m coming!”
Seconds later, different locks clicked rapidly, then the door opened. “Excuse me, but Mom and Dad keep the locks open only when they are at home and armed.”
“Armed, in the sense...” Spo said.
“Beretta 92, 9x19 Parabellum bullets,” said Zap as if it was the most normal thing. “It’s just a precautionary measure. Come on, what’s this ‘favor’ about?”
Spo suddenly wished he were elsewhere. To Squeak, he whispered, “Tell me this guy won’t tie us to a pole and use us as shooting targets or something Republican!”
Joey said, “Do your parents have anything regarding the Haunted Mansion?”
Zap thought about it, her eyes turned upward. “The Haunted...” He snapped his fingers “Whiteman House, you mean! Oh, I think Mom and Dad have just about everything regarding that old ruin. After what happened there, the Gardens’ authorities began to remove all references from the archives, the library, from everywhere. Whatever one asks about Whiteman House is answered with a ton of urban legends, but never with the truth. And now that it’s gone for good, thanks to that Foster guy, there won’t even be a Haunted Mansion to see. My parents adore this kind of cover-up, and have taken all the references they could from any possible source, yard sales included. It was painstaking work, to filter truth from fiction, but what came out...” The dog shivered. Spo was intrigued by this guy, he was even more talkative than him.
“Ah, Zap,” said Joey. Sorry to interrupt you, but we’d really like to read that stuff you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I can’t show it to you. If you had not interrupted me, I would have told you. As for me, I want to celebrate the end of the Haunted Mansion when Mr. Foster throws his 4th of July megaparty.” Zap licked his chops, rubbing his tummy. “Can’t wait to taste his grilled pork chops—”
“Zap!” Joey almost shouted.
Zap blushed. “Sorry. As I was saying, after Foster’s housewarming party, Mom and Dad went in their study, where they keep the really secret stuff.” He pointed to the door with his paw. “They thought I was too tired to notice, but at some point I heard Mom crying. I wondered what could make her so sad, apart from the Challenger disaster, so I walked stealthily to the study. They had left the door ajar, a rare thing, and I saw them browsing the Whiteman House file, and Dad too was very sad...
Well, when they realized that I was watching them, they called me in, they had never allowed me in there, and they showed me the file. They made me solemnly promise that I would never ever reveal to anyone the contents of that file, and you know what, Joey?” Zap stopped to catch his breath. His cheerfulness had completely disappeared, replaced by a somberness that made Joey shiver. “I will respect that secret.”
Joey started to say something, when Zap raised a paw. “No. Mom and Dad take a solemn oath very seriously, and so do I, and I never disappointed them. Never. And then, not even I want someone to read what’s inside that file. Whiteman House was a bad place, Foster Mansion no. It should suffice.”
Joey and the two mice remained speechless for a good minute before Spo exploded. And when Spo exploded, he became loud like a Newfoundland. “I don’t believe it! According to Joey, you are the family that fights conspiracies, you love to talk about secrets and politics! And now there’s a secret you want to keep?! What kind of place was this Whiteman House? Some antechamber of the Inferno?”
“Yes,” Zap said, succinctly. His face wore a strange expression, as if just those words might attract a lot of unwanted attention. “It was a very ugly place,” he repeated. “Mom was very sorry for showing me that file, said that no animal should...” He swallowed. Only then, the others saw that he was about to cry. “Leave the past to rest, please. And if you try to come closer to that file, I’ll bite you. I swear it. “
---
Martin’s car stopped in front of Roger Hartford’s house. Martin turned off the engine, and remained in the car, glaring at the house.
Martin hated his father. That man had deeply marked him, and not for good. Had pushed him to leave home, abandoning his own brother and their pets, Helias, Honcho and Ringo. Leaving them to suffer that man’s abuses. Martin’s father’s ‘love’ was made of alcohol, negligence, and fists.
Martin had run away out of pure fear. He had given up, but the price had been paid by his brother and the pets. The great Martin Foster, Grade-A coward, whose job for the new shelter, for anyone in the Gardens could never wipe that stain off his heart and soul...
Martin hated his father with a passion, the same with which hated himself. Whoever committed abuse on an animal on his watch became his sworn enemy. He had once worked as a warehouseman for a meat importer. Exhausting shifts, meager wage, but at least the meals were insured. The boss knew how to reward those who worked hard, even if he hired illegal immigrants to save on costs and Medicare. Martin was an exception because the boss liked him, although he was never favored.
And there was Coal.
A black cat with green, hypnotic eyes. The warehouse’s regular visitor, distrustful as only a feral could be. He was fed with some scraps, really low-quality meat that was a boon for him. Coal was a sort of mascot: They said that when he came in before the workers arrived, it meant a lot of work, more money in the envelope. One of those prophecies that never failed.
And there was Diego.
Martin never knew his surname – after all, he never knew or cared to know the surname of his fellow workers. The other workers were like a social club; at the end of the day they kept him well away from their private lives. It was understandable, you can’t trust the only ‘white gringo’ at work, not if you want to make absolutely sure to keep your job.
Diego hated animals, including Coal. And even if for this he wasn’t well-regarded by the others, Diego didn’t care. Every now and then he’d mutter that he would’ve hanged that beast together with the beef quarters. Martin had said nothing, he had never stopped watching over Diego, staying on his back.
One day, Martin had arrived in the middle of the night. He needed some extra money, and the extra time suited him fine...
He arrived in time to see Diego pounding Coal with a bat. There was a wild light in the man’s eyes, while he was keeping going at the unmoving cat... Coal was so still, and the bat would make a slushy sound against Coal’s flesh. The other workers just stood there, and nobody did anything, they simply looked...
Martin knew that there was nothing he could do. His rational part begged him not to go beyond a complaint and send him back to the Mexican border, let the Police manage the matter...
Martin had walked calmly to Diego. Diego, realizing Martin’s presence, had stopped. He mumbled something in Spanish. His breath smelled of alcohol.
Like Martin’s father.
Martin stopped in front of Diego. He looked at Coal, then again at the human.
He hit him. Straight in the face. It was the first time in his life he had put every ounce of his strength into one punch. His ire was focused entirely on that hit. All his thoughts were focused on a single concept: inflict the greatest damage possible.
Diego survived, barely, Martin was fairly sure he would’ve never hit an animal again. Martin of course lost his job, but maybe it was better that way. Despite his anger at the people who didn’t raise a finger to help the poor Coal, he couldn’t become a mass murderer...
It was his first lesson in life. You can’t save the world, Martin Foster. You can’t come on a golden chariot among the people and start dictating commandments.
Another thing he had learned, however. The law could be his friend. None of those illegal workers would have said a word about the ‘incident’. As they had allowed the death of Coal, they wouldn’t have endangered their jobs in favor of Coal’s killer.
Then fate had helped Martin to make enough money to do more than kicking the butts of people he didn’t like. Mac had been a happy exception...
For this reason he wouldn’t hurt Sasha’s owner, he thought as he looked toward the house. He would play by the rules, would bend and manipulate them, but he would make sure that the law would fall on Roger Hartford like two tons of bricks! What mattered was that Sasha didn’t suffer for Martin Foster’s actions.
“Happy thoughts, ol’ boy,” Martin sighed. He took the bag that was lying on the passenger seat, and got out of the car.
He walked to Hartford House, reached the door and rang the bell.
“Coming!” said a familiar cheery voice, a moment later the door opened, revealing an ivory-colored female, with brown paws, ears and muzzle, and two unique candy-pink eyes. “Hi Uncle Martini!”
The man gave the dog a pat. “Hello to you, Sash. Is Dad home?”
She shook her head, wagging. “Oh, no. He went to town. He said he will return soon.”
“Oh. I see. Hey darling, how about coming to my place for lunch with my boys? They always ask about you, you know?”
The wags stopped suddenly, but not the smile. “Oh, I really want, but Dad has already left the food for me, and told me to wait. Can I leave a message?”
Martin kept smiling at her. It wasn’t difficult, Sasha had the effect of calming his nerves, she was… so innocent. “Nothing that can’t wait. Tell him we’re waiting for him at the construction site, okay?”
“Dad has a new job?!” Sasha almost started to bounce. “That’s great! I can’t wait to tell him! He looked so gloomy this morning, but this news will be just the best way to cheer him up! Thanks Uncle Martini!”
He patted her head again. “It was nothing. Listen, do me a favor: Notify me when you see him or hear from him, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Uncle Martini.” Sasha then closed the door.
Martin walked back to the car. He didn’t get it, why hadn’t Roger said anything to Sasha? Well, she was hardly his confidant. But what really bugged Martin was that, despite having been certified fit to work, given that he was attending Alcoholics Anonymous, Roger Hartford had not yet gone to work.
It was for this reason that Martin had prepared the papers for the change of Sasha’s ownership.
Entering his car, Martin thought he was getting too involved. He was rich, but he wasn’t Bill Gates, he couldn’t indefinitely expand his family of pets. He had just co-adopted Peanut and Grape, and Babylon Gardens was a pet-friendly neighborhood; that’s why his new shelter was supposed to provide for abused animals, or he’d deplete his funds in a few months…
Sasha, however, deserves some more attention. She was so happy, always optimistic. To her, the world was a wonderful place, and Martin wanted to help her live in peace, unlike Roger...
Martin picked up the phone and punched in a number. “Carl? Listen, ask our friend to go to the city. Roger’s acting fishy, mefears…”

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.



Thu Apr 21, 2011 12:26 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Wow. Another great update, Valerio. I can't wait to see where this goes. I have heard the allusions, but have not read the story yet. I have been waiting, and am happy to see it finally forming here.

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Thu Apr 21, 2011 1:04 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
3.
“I’m home, boys!”
Two pairs of triangular ears pricked up as one. Lucky and Fox’s sleep evaporated as if they had never fallen asleep. The two dogs stretched, then ran to greet Bill with a big hug and a generous add-on of wagging. “Welcome back, Dad,” Fox said, while the man, squatting, pet and caressed them both back.
“Welcome back, Daddy Bill,” said Lucky, no less happy.
“‘Dad’ will do, boy. Don’t tell me that you woke up just now.”
“My fault.” Lucky’s ears flattened. “I didn’t sleep last night, and then I fell asleep in the afternoon and I asked Fox to stay with me...”
Bill interrupted him with a pat on his back. “You don’t have to apologize, champ. If you won’t be sleeping tonight, then Fox will be your chaperon to the Gardens’ ‘secret’ nightlife.”
“You knew?” asked the silver-furred dog.
Bill shook his head. “I’d be a bad cop if I didn’t know. But as long as those sly wolves keep things quiet and don’t do any social damage, I’ll just keep an eye on them. They’re being good pets, no one complained, they deserve their chance. Furthermore, they’re still the unbeaten kings of the BBQ, their steak is the absolute best!”
Fox hadn’t the heart to tell his Dad he was praising a raw steak. At least, the Milton wolves knew how to choose their meat...
“What’s this ‘secret nightlife’ about?” asked Lucky, while they all headed for the kitchen.
“The Milton wolves have set up a sort of gambling den at their place,” said Fox. “Since at least one of them is on duty every night to babysit their cubs, they spend the time with things such as poker, Machiavelli…”
“Makia-what-ee?”
“Machiavelli. Named after an Italian Renaissance philosopher and politician. It’s a very intriguing card game, but you can go for any other game, if you ask, as long as it’s with cards.”
“And what are the stakes?”
“Whatever you like. Food, your allowance, but most of the time the wolves are playing for the sake of playing, since they earn more than enough by working for the Miltons. Just remember: never cheat with the wolves. You don’t want to meet their teeth.”
Bill chuckled hearing that. He had been sure, at first, that those wild mutts would bring trouble to the Gardens, instead they were proving themselves far more civilized than long-resident pets such as Bino… The man opened a big packet of frozen spaghetti with meatballs, then put them in the microwave. Then he started setting the table for all of them. Though now Fox was no longer alone, Bill was accustomed to having him at the table with him. And his dogs were family, after all.
“What kind of guys are, these Miltons I keep hearing about?” asked Lucky. “I heard they set up that big amusement park, that they own the Gardens, that they throw pool parties with jelly and squirrels…”
Fox nodded. Lucky was the new dog in the neighborhood, and he still had to see how much truth was in every word he had heard. “Yup, they’re an… original bunch.”
---
Duke. Keene. Lana. Pit. Rock. Simon.
‘Original’ wasn’t enough to describe them.
To begin with, they were Babylon Gardens’ only pet ferrets.
And not even ‘rich’ was enough to describe them. As heirs to the fortune of Henry Milton, founder of the Gardens and industrial mogul, the Milton ferrets were obscenely rich,
Furthermore, despite everyone swearing it was just sheer luck rather than ability and knowledge of the system, the Milton ferrets knew how to give wind to the sails of their stocks. Whatever they touched turned to gold, adding more capital to their already considerable wealth. Martin Foster was a beggar, in comparison.
However, according to their mercurial nature, the ferrets were not exactly wise in the way they managed the family fortune, as they had proven with their… purchases since their first days of economic independence. The most discrete object they had bought was a jacket made entirely of diamonds.
For this reason, their deceased owner had decided to set up a Foundation that would manage part of the business’ income just to pay for his beloved sons’ needs, and keep the house prices in the Gardens low to allow more families to move there with their pets and live with them.
The ferrets’ house was part of an estate that once included the whole Gardens’ territory, and was dedicated to cotton cultivation. After the setbacks of the Civil War, the Milton family had quickly converted to the heavy industry business, and had emancipated their field slaves to turn them into paid workers at the new steel mills. Almost two hundred years would pass before a young rebel named Henry Milton decided to make his territory a pet paradise.
For this reason the six ferrets had immediately taken a liking to Martin Foster and his ideas of management for the future new shelter, selling him the land he needed at the figure of $1 per lot, and granting him Whiteman House and the annexed land for the same figure.
And now those same ferrets were very curious as to why this funny dog and his juicy friends were so interested in that sale... Well, at that moment the ferrets’ interest was much more focused on Spo and Squeak. Wisely, Joey had thought to pay that visit to them after dinner: a sated predator tends to be... more civilized.
They were sitting in a room which, alone, was larger than Joey’s whole house, guests and hosts separated by a marble table decorated with trays of sweet and savory snacks.
Spo kept telling himself that contacting them and not their steward, Mr. Steward, could prove a very bad idea. However, those weird ferrets were their best source of information available, and the last available at that. If they didn’t get any info about the Haunted Mansion from them, no one else could provide any…
“Whiteman House? And what is there to say?” Asked Lana, the only female of the bunch. “It was a bad place that the Foundation had never revalued for some reason. It was a pleasure to give it to Mr. Foster, that human has done such a good job, dear tidbits” Although she showed a friendly smile, Spo wished they avoided those references to food...
“He did such a delicious job,” said Pit, munching on a pretzel.
“We’re sorry for missing the housewarming party,” said Duke. “But we were engaged in a race involving tube socks and pneumatic tubes...” None of the three guests asked for details “... And then you didn’t need us to give substance to the event. “
Spo and Squeak almost hugged each other for comfort. They never had seen so many potential diners all at once..!
Joey said, “So not even you know anything about that place?”
“Pff!” Said Simon.” If we wanted to worry about Dad’s each activity and property, we wouldn’t even have time to eat.”
Keene jumped to his feet and, leaning over the couch’s backrest, he shouted in the direction of the adjacent room, ”Jeeves!”
The butler appeared at the door by the room’s opposite side. “Yes, Suh?”
Joey and the mice don’t comment.
“Jeeves,” the ferret went on, without turning. “Bring here all the papers regarding the ol’ Whiteman House!”
“Yessuh.” The butler turned and went back to where he had come from.
Keen sat down. “Good old Jeeves. Can’t live without us.”
Joey had a sudden vision of the butler who, free from any duty from that bunch of lunatics, would dance in a Tyrolean dress over boxes of uncorked champagne. It gave him a sort of headache.
“So, what’s on the menu?” Rock asked. “What’s the fishy secret you’re looking for?”
“We too would like to know it,” replied Spo.
Then silence fell, expect for the ticking of the grandfather’s clock. Joey whistled, looking around, tapping his thumbs. The ferrets kept looking at the mice as if they wanted to include them among the snacks. Spo was moving into Joey’s collar, Squeak behind the dog’s neck.
“Err... Will you attend the barbecue?” Joey asked, just to say something.
“It depends on whom they serve,” said Lana. She was drooling.
Spo was about to give it up and run away like the dickens, when Jeeves came back with a blue archive box imprinted with the golden Milton family Logo. He put the box on the table and opened it. Then he stepped back and said, “If masters needed anything else…”
Keene motioned for him to go, while his brothers and sister quickly browsed through the papers.
Jeeves had just reached the door, when Simon said, “Hey, what does this stuff mean?”
The butler turned. “Please?”
Lana waved some papers stapled. “This is all bureaucratic stuff!”
“And boring,” Keene added. “There’s nothing else about that place?”
“Masters, Mr. Milton has personally given orders to destroy any dossier regarding the past of Whiteman House. Actually, the Foundation had been suggested not to put the land up for sale.”
“Pfft,” said Keene. “The solicitor told us that, but we’re still the bosses and we can sell and buy whatever we want.” Then he pointed an accusing finger at the butler. “J’accuse, Jeeves! You know something, you worked for Dad since he wore diapers, so now you shall confess!”
“Is that a direct order, Suh?”
“It is! Speak, viper in our bosom!”
The butler sighed. “Very well, suh. May I please sit down? This is not easy to remember, even after all these years.”
---
That night, Martin had decided to indulge in a relaxing night with his boys. TV Dinner for all, and Stargate SG-1 marathon. Antares and Aldebaran were two hardcore fans of the series. Mizar and Alcor preferred the romantic pet movies, but this was a nice opportunity to snuggle up with Dad until midnight, while the two big dogs, lying in front of the trio, watched the adventures of the team led by Colonel O’Neill.
Right at the end of the episode featuring the first appearance of the Replicants, the cell phone rang. Martin’s ‘open door’ policy included these interruptions as well. Sighing, the man paused the DVD set and activated the Bluetooth headset. “Tell me, Carl.”
Carl Roosevelt, Martin’s lawyer and old friend from the days when Martin worked in the kitchens of bars and fast-food restaurants, spoke with that voice that could have overpowered a vuvuzela. “It’s about Roger. I’m afraid I have bad news, my friend...”
Martin listened. With a growing sense of anxiety, he listened carefully to each word. His pets saw him turn very, very pale and utter a single word, “Sasha...” Then, without even thanking, hung up and took off the headset. “Gotta go, boys. I’m sorry, but it’s very important.”
“Sasha’s OK?” The twins asked in unison. Then Antares said, “Can we come with you? Will you be needing help?”
Martin nodded. “Yes. Come, maybe it will be better... No, only you, Antares. Mizar, come with us. Aldebaran, Alcor, call Bino, please, tell him to come to the shelter. Tell him to pass the word to the Club Tell him...” And he reported what he Carl had told him. Then he ran out, followed closely by the two dogs.
Alcor shook his head sadly. “Poor girl…” He so wanted to have that creep an owner between his claws…
---
“Alfred Whiteman was an old friend of Henry Milton. They had attended the same junior college, the same university, shared the same friends. Jokingly, they always said that people mistook them for brothers.
When Henry inherited his family’s fortune, he was happy to lend a hand to Alfred, giving him and his family the staff’s old outbuilding, properly restructured to be a real mansion. Alfred and his wife were going through difficult days, and that offer was a real godsend. All was well. Master Whiteman was a good host, never tried to a burden and his wife prepared the most delicious meals for their benefactor.
The Whitemans had no children, and didn’t seem interested in having any. They had, however... other interests. Master Henry didn’t suspect anything, he knew his friend was a sociable person, and his frequent guests, although not belonging to high society, were not people from the lowest social class. It happened that Master Henry welcomed some of them under his roof from time to time.
The truth came out when Master Henry read in a newspaper about the arrest of three of Alfred’s friends, as part of an investigation into the disappearances of a number of strays and pets, disappearances reported by operators from animal control and the staff of the municipal pound. You see, the pound’s staff has the legal right to check periodically on the welfare of the pets that are adopted, and some of the volunteers were just like Mister Foster, very dedicated to that job.
The three suspects had each adopted a cat and a dog, and they were reported missing in the same sequence. The staff had gotten suspicious, and compared those reports with other similar ‘disappearances’ of pets coming from the same pound.
The investigations led to Whiteman House. Inside the cellar, the Whitemans had set up a Pet Fight Club, with an arena and a ‘workout room’, where they inflicted torture, both psychological and physical, fed their ‘gladiators’ other cats and dogs, in order to increase the ferocity of the animals to a level that the most savage of feral could not possess. Even pups and kittens were given to…” Jeeves’ voice broke, for a moment. “The Whitemans wanted to make sure the fighters lost any sense of compassion. They wanted animals from the pound because they thought no one would notice their disappearance, and because they could count on creatures already severely traumatized to start with.
The Whitemans’ guests were their spectators, the ‘fans’. They’d spend hefty amounts of money to attend those fights where there was only one rule: one winner, one survivor. The winner had the privilege to… eat the loser. And at a certain points, some of the ‘fans’ had started bringing their own pets to the fights…”
Joey, Spo and Squeak were listening, but it was as if those words were coming from another dimension. They weren’t so ignorant about what Man could do, when it came to evil deeds, but… but this
Spo felt queasy. Martin, the nice Mr. Foster, had bought a place that had to be infested with… how many ghosts? How many lives had been brutally terminated in that pit of horrors.
No wonder neither the humans nor the mice wanted to talk about it. Who would come to live in a place with such a monstrous reputation?
Jeeves’ voice broke through the dark clouds of the animals’ thoughts.
“Some of the defendants negotiated giving out evidence that the Whitemans were the head of that… business: home-made movies to promote the Pet Fight Club’s activity. Very detailed movies. The District Attorney’s grandfather was a young Russian infantryman during World War II, one of the first to arrive in the Nazi death camps. He had shot a movie that later was brought to Nuremberg as evidence. The District Attorney was sure the Whitemans had been no less cruel in their misdeeds. He was forced to negotiate, but he made sure that the Whitemans were sentenced to the most severe maximum security prison, from which they never came out alive. There are inmates who really hate animal abusers…
The others received the maximum sentence, without parole, and are still serving. Whiteman House was left as it was, a monument to the evil that had been consumed within its walls.
Henry Milton came out devastated. He was very fond of animals, even if his work commitments didn’t allow him to take care of them as he wished. I am sure that it was this experience that weakened his heart. He was not the same merry man anymore, but he became really dedicated to the welfare of the pets.
All of this had happened in 1970, long before the Internet came into existence. In 1987 he founded Babylon Gardens, using law and riches as instruments to give all he could to other people’s pets, making sure that no resident could live here without being a pet owner, and under the condition of regular checks from the local police. As of recently, he decided to adopt the ferrets who would have been his beloved sons until his last days…”
Jeeves rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Forgive me, Masters. Eventually, all of the Garden’s residents tacitly agreed never to speak about the past of Whiteman House. No animal was supposed to be troubled by the memories of something that was meant to be forgotten. In fact, all the locals were happy at the idea of the destruction of the old building in favor of Foster Mansion...” The butler sighed. “I could have lied to you, Masters, but I know that when you take it into your head to do something, you will not recede until you are satisfied, and the Internet is filled with too many urban legends to provide a reliable source.”
Spo and Squeak stared at each other, wide-eyed, before they facepawlmed, hard.
Joey sill didn’t know what to say. The ferrets too, for once, were appalled. Keene was the first to talk, showing a sad expression. “Ah, Jeeves..? I’m sorry for forcing you to remember all of this… and for being such a nuisance to you from time to time.” He turned to his siblings, who nodded. “Can you forgive us?”
Jeeves smiled to them. It was a funny expression to see on that usually stiff face. “Masters, I’ve known you since you were wee cubs, and I will always believe that you were the best thing that could ever happen to Master Milton. You brought comfort and joy in his life and in this house, and if I have one regret, it is that you weren’t with him when this scandal broke out. He needed support, especially during his long battles against the media to prove that he was not involved with the Whiteman’s affairs. Babylon Gardens was his amend, and he had put into it his very heart and soul. And if I may say so, I believe that he would have greatly appreciated the work that Mister Foster is doing. In fact, Mister Foster reminds me of Master Milton when he was that age… Master Joey?”
The young dog had tried to bottle down the emotions flowing savagely in his mind, but he just couldn’t stand it.
He started sobbing, holding his fists on his thighs, his shoulders trembling. “How could… how could they do it?” he asked, growling with rage and sadness. He batted a fist against his leg. ”How could they do it?!” he wanted to lash out at those ferrets who had allowed Martin to rebuild a home in the very place where there should be nothing, not even the old ‘Haunted House’. Now Martin was in danger, his place was still haunted and…
And what could he say? He asked himself, as Squeak hugged his neck, as protectively as a mouse could. What could he tell to Martin and his pets? That the ghosts of those poor animals were still there to exact their vengeance for their suffering?
Or, perhaps, Spo had just been unlucky to see one?
But what could Joey do or say?
Perhaps, the ferrets and the humans were right, after all. Perhaps, the end of the old Whiteman House would put the ghosts at peace, at last.
“I feel so confused…” Joey said, stroking Squeak’s back. “Jeeves… Is there a graveyard for those poor animals? I would like to say a prayer for them, if possible.”
The butler shook meekly his head. “The Whitemans made sure that every animal was destroyed or devoured, so no corpse was left, save for the last fighters that were euthanized at the pound. That’s why the movie was so important in the trial as evidence against the Whitemans. The cover-up forbade any kind of graveyard, but Master Milton had a gravestone erected in the first lot of the Remembrance Hill Pet Cemetery. You may go there, if you want. It would be appreciated, although, Master Joey, I must ask you not to divulge this information.”
Joey nodded, and so did the mice and the ferrets.
Perhaps, they thought, Martin knew everything already, and that was why he had chosen the Haunted House to erect his Mansion, to try and clean Babylon Gardens from that stain.
“I’m sorry for bringing this up, folks,” Spo said. “I guess that living with a doggie cop is rubbing off somehow…” Lucky him, no one asked him the real reason of his curiosity. They surely looked like they didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
Spo only hoped he had seen the last of the ghosts of Whiteman House.
Oh, was he wrong…

SEASON I
Episode 6
FIN

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Apr 26, 2011 12:26 am, edited 1 time in total.



Thu Apr 21, 2011 8:07 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Yay for the brilliant update!
Seriously, I squeal like a little girl every time this is updated.
One mistake I noticed. It's "O'Neill" :ugeek:


Thu Apr 21, 2011 11:19 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
:shock: Oh my, you're churning out these translations at lightning speed... I finally finished reading the ones you posted and then BAM! Another two today! Not that I'm complaining... 8-) I almost forgot how good these are!

*gets back to reading today's posts*

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Thu Apr 21, 2011 1:42 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Watch out for your vocal chords, then. ;) Lotsa squees incoming...

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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
HOUSEPETS! The Series
Season I
Episode 7 – A Dog’s Heart
Written and translated by VALERIO (and later revised by OBBL)

1.
Hartford House, Babylon Gardens. 23:40 hours

The moment Martin Foster’s car stopped in front of Roger Hartford’s house, the news was already flying on the radio waves of the cell phones, though the phone cables, by word of mouth, between humans and animals.
Babylon Gardens was a close-knit community. Here, people had come to live with their pets so that the whole family could enjoy a place without the restrictions of the city.
That one of them could abandon his pet was simply inconceivable.
Even worse, considering that the dog they were talking about was one of the sweetest creatures in the neighborhood...
Gossip was like a fire burning through a field of weeds. It was known for some time that Roger wasn’t a nice guy, unable to keep a job, more and more attached to the bottle rather than to his duties to himself and to his dog. Sure, he had suffered a lot, they had been understanding, but could that pain become an excuse to destroy himself and those around him? And then, wasn’t it his fault as well for breaking his marriage and losing his wife and son..?
To Martin, none of this mattered. He hadn’t decided to help Roger with a magic wand to ward his problems away. Martin just wanted Roger Hartford detoxified from his alcoholism and to accept a well-paid job as worker in the construction of the new shelter, hoping that Roger could change just enough to improve, and stop abusing his dog, Sasha.
He had been blatantly proved wrong. The private eye working for Martin’s lawyer had just reported that Roger Hartford had taken a train for Arizona that very day. One-way ticket.
To Sasha he had said he would be back that same day.
He had abandoned her, the son of a...
“Daddy, please, you’re scaring me,” said the dog sitting beside him. It wasn’t easy to scare a dog that could easily dwarf a Great Dane, but Martin Foster was just about to burst. He clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened, his eyes were huge and black, his breath came out in short, quick snorts like a bull ready to charge. And his face, paradoxically, was expressionless, as if the muscles couldn’t decide how much to contract to best express the rage burning in their owner’s mind…
On hearing Antares’ voice, Martin licked his lips and regained some self-control. He almost collapsed against the wheel – what the heck was he doing? He couldn’t show himself to Sasha in that conditions, the poor creature didn’t need another scare. And he, as owner and manager of Babylon Garden’s shelter, had a specific duty to help her, and he had to do it before the crowd gathered in full around the place. On second thought, perhaps he should’ve warned Bino after taking care of Sasha... but what was done was done...
“Forgive me, dear.” Martin stroked the dog’s thigh. “Dad is just upset... Come on, let’s go get her. Come, Mizar,” he said to the white female German shepherd sitting in the back seat.

They got out of the car, while many pets were already crowding around Hartford House. The owners of the nearest houses looked out the window. By now, almost all the houses in Babylon Gardens had their lights on.
Ignoring all the questions that the pets were asking him, Martin, followed by Antares and Mizar, went to the door. He turned the knob, finding it open. None of the other pets followed him, when he entered.
“Sasha..?” The man looked around. “Sasha?”
The only light on was the lamp in the living room. Martin entered the room cautiously. “Sasha?”
She was there. Sitting on the white-leather sofa. On her lap, the pink-eyed female was holding an open photo book. Her paw lingered in circles on a particular picture, depicting a floppy-eared puppy held in the arms of two smiling, happy humans.
“Sasha,” said Martin. “Hey, girl, are you..?” Then he noticed the paper. A hand-written letter, lying on the table, held by a crystal ashtray.
“He told me that it’s for you,” Sasha said, in a toneless voice. Martin and his pets couldn’t claim to have known that female for a long time, they had moved to the Gardens only a month ago. Yet, among all the creatures they had come to know, she stood out for her spontaneity and innocence, a personality that made one want to protect her from every harm.
Martin never imagined such a lack of emotions in her voice. It was unnatural.
The man took the letter, and sat down to let his pets to read it as well. The letter read,
Sasha, forgive me. I was the worst Dad a pet could ever have. In my difficult moments you tried to help me, always, and in return I fell in love with a bottle. Mr. Foster offered me a job, but I already know how this too is going to end, with me drowning into whiskey as I already did so many times. You were only a means to hook up with girls, and when it didn’t work I blamed you.
I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to live among these people who take care of their pets as a real part of their family. I’m leaving you some food, it’s all that I could afford. Mr. Foster will take care of you, I know, he’s a good man. You’ll find a Dad and a Mom better than us.
I know you love me, little Sasha. But stop wasting your affection for me. I know you’ll think it’s impossible, but please be happy, forget me.
Kisses. Dad.
P.S. - Mr. Foster, Martin, I can’t add much except that I have some savings in a coffee jar in the kitchen. It’s not much, I know, but use it for Sasha. If I get lucky, which I doubt, I will send more money for her. Again, I know I had to accept your offer, but I knew how it would’ve ended, believe me.
Martin folded the letter. Yes, he believed it, if the experience with his alcoholic father had taught him anything...
“Did I do something wrong, Uncle Martin?” Sasha looked up at him. Her eyes were watering, that sadness was a terrible sight to behold. “Was I bad doggie? Didn’t I love him enough? He would’ve stayed if I… if I…”
Mizar sat next to her and hugged her. The poor girl was repeating, word by word, the emotions that the white German Shepherd had felt during her dark days at the shelter, when after each and every visit they refused to adopt her... That feeling of having something wrong, of being wrong, unworthy...
“You’re not a bad doggie, Sasha.” Mizar gently rocked the other female. “You’re not bad, you’re the sweetest of the lady dogs, and you don’t deserve this suffering. Shhh-shh, sweet one, you won’t be alone anymore...”
“I want Bino,” said Sasha, snuggling into Mizar’s arms. “I want Bino, where’s Bino? Bino...” Then she sagged. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep slumber, although her breathing was irregular.
Antares took her in his arms, gently as if she were a porcelain doll. Leaving everything as it was, the group left Hartford house.
---
Costner House. 23:30 hours

The phone rang insistently, echoing loudly in the silent house.
Anyone who knew Jeff, also knew that only an emergency was reason enough to call him at that hour of the night. Jeff had a long memory when it came to those who disturbed him, and a solid punch for them.
Therefore, it was up to Jeff’s pets to answer the phone during their owner’s sacred sleep hours. Also for that reason, said pets’ furry friends were forbidden to call unless it was for an emergency as well. It didn’t matter to set shifts: if Jeff awoke, fur would’ve flown in great amounts at Maxwell and Bino’s expenses.
It was no accident, that Max was awake. From the day Grape had chewed him out, he had had difficulties falling asleep. First he had lost his beautiful cat the night she and Peanut had came out at Martin’s housewarming party. And he had lost her the second time, as a friend, when he had decided to help Bino blackmail Fido about his relationship with Sabrina. Oh, and it hadn’t helped that Max had been Sabrina’s boyfriend as well, thus appearing even the more ignoble in the eyes of Grape.
Maxwell would’ve fasted himself to death, but he was fairly sure Grape wouldn’t have been impressed at all. Yup, he had made her suffer a lot when she had discovered he was competing with the cat Ivan in those stupid ‘dietary macho contests’. She was obsessed by the specter of hunger and abandonment, and he had weakened himself to the point of falling ill, making her relive one of her worst nightmares.
Stupid kitty will be stupid, Max ol’ chum!
Max was rarely getting a good night’s sleep. He missed Grape so much, and guess what?! Her long-lost housemate turns up and she’s happier than before.
When the phone rang, the cat sighed and went to answer it. He was tempted to let it ring, after all whatever punishment Dad could inflict couldn’t make him feel worse than now… With a tired voice, he said, “Hello. Oh, Alcor. Tell me...” He listened absently at first to the Foster cat, then he felt wide awake. Oh, man! Oh man! “Yes. I’m gonna talk to him and to Dad right now. Thanks, Alcor.” He hung up. He still couldn’t believe it.
“Mrgr, who was it?” Bino asked from his bed, rubbing his eyes.
“It was Alcor. It’s about Sasha... Her Dad ran away and left her here. Alone. “
Bino’s eyes widened. “What?” Then he stood up. “What did you say? Look, if this is one of your jokes it’s not funny!”
Max headed for the door. “We need to wake up Dad. Mr. Foster took her to the Shelter. The poor lass will be needing you now more than ever, you’re the only person in this place she really is in love with for whatever reason. Come on, what are you still doing there!? I’ll pass the word to the Club, you go wake up dad. Mush!”
Bino ran out of the room. A moment later, Max was knocking at Jeff’s door. As soon as he heard Jeff groaning awake, he went back to the phone and called Fox...
This was going to be a long night.
---
The halogen lights were illuminating brightly the entrance marked by the sign ‘Babylon Gardens Temporary Shelter for the Abandoned and the Ferals’. The car’s headlights didn’t add much in terms of light.
Martin turned off the car. The first to leave it was Antares, who was still holding the sleeping Sasha. Then he and the man walked towards the gate, where Martin’s Assistant and the shelter’s supervisor was already waiting. A man in a white coat was standing at the woman’s side, and behind them had gathered a small crowd made of the shelter’s guests.
The woman opened the gate. “Boss..?”
Martin turned his attention to the doctor. “She fainted, Stanwick. Completely exhausted after spending the whole day in a state of shock.”
Mordecai Stanwick nodded. “Everything is set up.”
“Sorry for the short notice.”
“Don’t mention it. At last, I have all I need to do something, instead of being a spectator. Come, Antares, give her to me now.”
The big dog passed Sasha to the veterinarian, right before the lights from another car bathed the scene.
“You go ahead, Doc,” said Martin, while the Costner family was leaving the car.
On seeing Stanwick carrying Sasha away, Bino ran to the gate. “Where are they bringing her? How is she? Is she hurt? Is she..?”
“She’s only asleep, Bino.” Martin summed up the situation. “After the doctor examines her, she’ll be brought to a doghouse.”
“Can she come to stay with me? Or even with you? She can’t stay here, she’ll be scared to death!”
Martin sighed. “I’m not Sasha’s owner, I’m sorry. By law, for now she must stay at the shelter.” Martin squatted and put his hands on Bino’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine, I’ll make sure she’ll have everything she needs… But she needs you, now.”
Bino nodded. His eyes were genuinely sad, his expression spoke of pure anguish. Among the present, Max knew him best, and he had never seen him so truly concerned. Up to that moment, Bino had seemed interested in Sasha only like some disposable doll.
“Do you feel like staying here and keep her company,” asked Martin.
Bino nodded again, eagerly.
“Excellent. Miss Sunman will show you the doghouse. Wait for her there, Sasha’ll be with you soon. Okay?”
“...Okay.”
“Good. If you need me, you’ll find me in my office. Hi, boys.” He briefly greeted the crowd of guests.
Jeff hugged Bino, then fiddled with his eartip. “Now Max and I are going home. You have your cell, call me anytime, don’t worry. Now Sasha needs you, don’t fail her ok?”
Bino nuzzled Jeff’s neck. “Thank you.”
“Don’t. I know you’re a good boy at heart, that’s why I adopted you. Now go.”
Jeff and Max stood where they were, watching Evelyin leading Bino toward one of the doghouses. Max took Jeff’s hand, and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Dad..?”
Jeff sighed, and walked to the car. He entered, and after the cat had done the same, he turned on the motor. “No,” he said flatly.
“But...”
“Max, it’s true that I have a good job, and I have some savings aside for emergencies, and an insurance in your favor should anything happen to me. But I can’t run the risk of taking the responsibility for a third pet, do you read me? With the current crisis, I could find myself unemployed at any moment, and... Darn it!” He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, making Max startle. Then he turned to the cat, looking at him like he did when he wanted to scold him for good. “Max, listen to me because I’ll say it only once: Don’t you dare think for one second that I don’t care for Sasha, or for Bino, okay?
“You tend to spend most of your time avoiding your brother, and when you two are together you think only of ways to upset him. So you may not have noticed, but Bino is really in love with Sasha. That dog is the most positive influence he ever had in his life. And sometimes I really think that if I adopted her, too, Bino would be a better dog now.
“Certain afternoons I’ll happen to hear him talking to her on the phone, and I can hardly believe in those moments he is the same dog that cost me a fortune in small damages and caused protests from half of the neighborhood for his antics. Do you really think I enjoyed putting a shock collar on him? Fortunately, the remote was lost and I came back to my senses. I still regret that moment of weakness.”
Jeff had calmed down a bit. He pet Max’s back on his favorite spot. “For some reason, Bino will never admit he’s got a sweet corner in his heart, and I stopped expecting it. But I know it’s there. Now all we can do is hope that someone in the neighborhood comes forward and adopts poor Sasha. Oh, and remember, we never had this conversation.”
---
Martin was facing a similar dilemma. Sitting at his desk, the shelter’s owner and manager was feverishly consulting all of the ‘wanted’ adoption ads Evelyn could put together in such a short time. There were numerous good candidates, apparently, but it was their economic and social status that interested Martin. He would never allow that Sasha to repeat this trauma, just like for each and every guest of his shelter.
Martin rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. “Way to go, Mary Sue.”
“Boss..?” asked Evelyn from the other desk.
The man lay his torso down against his desk. “Mary Sue, my dear. The man who fixes everything with a phone call and a handful of spare change, mister, ‘Look Ma, no hands!’. Heck, I gave a home to Lucky without a single problem, and I don’t know what to do with Sasha. I can’t violate my own policy and take her home with me, or rumor will spread that Uncle Martin will adopt any single stray, and I will end up saying ‘no’, and I hate to say ‘no’ to any animal *Ouch!*” he said, when a ruler struck him behind the neck! Martin sat back up, rubbing the injured area, more surprised than angry. “Miss Sunman!”
The woman stood there, looking like a Victorian teacher, tapping the palm of her hand with the ruler she had just used. “There’s more when it came from, boss. And don’t believe that I’m exaggerating.”
The man kept looking at her, perplexed.
“We are taking care of Sasha’s problems, not yours. Don’t you dare turn this into an act of self-pity. Instead use your resources to find a proper family for Sasha, just as you did for Lucky, and pronto.”
Martin nodded, visibly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Miss Sunman. I’ll get onto this at once.”
The woman nodded, satisfied, and returned to her desk. “That’s more like you, boss. Oh, and another thing: you’re one of those rare people around filled with money and goodwill. So don’t stop being a Mary Sue, or I’ll break this ruler over your hard head, okay? As it’s true that for forty years I disciplined whole classes of unruly teenagers at the Pettybroke Public High School. “
Martin nodded. “Miss Sunman?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Do that again, and I’ll move you to the night shift for the rest of the year.”
“But I still got the stick, Boss.”

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:45 pm, edited 2 times in total.



Thu Apr 21, 2011 5:15 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
You know, I feel like I should be reading this... Although it seems I would have a lot of catching up to do! :lol:

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Thu Apr 21, 2011 6:27 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Oh man Valerio, you're leaving me in the dust here! The explaination of what happened at the old haunted house made me rather depressed, and with Sasha! I need some happy now! You're amazing dude!

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Fri Apr 22, 2011 12:17 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
ChristopherJackal wrote:
Oh man Valerio, you're leaving me in the dust here! The explaination of what happened at the old haunted house made me rather depressed, and with Sasha! I need some happy now! You're amazing dude!

mbuahahaha! Now you know the power of drama!
Don't worry, man, I'll be working for Sasha's happiness right away!

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Fri Apr 22, 2011 12:34 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Beyond incredible, Valerio. I don't know how you do it.

Such sadness, I can only hope happiness will be coming soon.

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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
2.
“You’re her boyfriend, right?” asked a female cat leaning into the doghouse.
Bino was sitting on one of the two cots, staring at the empty one as if Sasha was already laying there. At the cat’s question, he nodded, barely turning.
The cat, white fur with orange and grey spots, tail completely gray, lowered her ears. “I’m so sorry. Believe me, we understand. We know what that girl is going through. May I come in?”
Bino nodded again. Funny, on another occasion he would’ve shunned the cat away, adding a few sharp comments, in his unmistakable style.
But now, Bino felt vulnerable. To him, Sasha was... Sasha! Not some leftover from the neighborhood girls (and he knew he was given more than one eye, after all he was the big boss around!), but an adorable and funny constant in his life. Sasha had the magical ability to know when he was in need of comfort, and she always tried to make his day end with a happy face.
It was true that Bino had never done anything to make the others understand that his wasn’t an ‘on-off’ relationship, a switch he could turn at will... No, Bino could count on Sasha, rely on her, and she knew she could count on him.
Yet, Bino wasn’t the type to give in to public effusions, he hated being seen as weak in any way, and had often put his duties toward the Good Old Dogs’ Club before Sasha. Like during last Christmas, when he had left her alone because he wanted to play his stupid prank on that new dog.
King.
King and Fido, his own brother, were the main obstacles in Bino’s relationship. Bino had neglected Sasha on Christmas, and that high-toned son of a Corgi had built her a doghouse for St. Valentine! As for Fido… well, he was the neighborhood’s chick magnet; every lady dog wanted has pups. Sasha wagging after him was the reaction of a hardcore fan.
Luckily, Fido hadn’t any intentions to return such feelings. In that, Bino was happy that Fido was a cat-lover, although still he couldn’t imagine how that could be possible… Then Bino thought about his younger brother, Joey, and the mouse he hung out with, and shuddered.
Now Bino felt less motivated to breaking Fido’s relationship. He couldn’t stand to see his brother suffer like he was suffering now... although he still hoped that his weird heart affairs would cause his downfall as ‘top dog’ of Babylon Gardens!
Bino stroked the empty cot. He was ready to live inside that doghouse until his sweet Sasha found a really good family. He’d give away all of his allowance to help Dad buy food for her, if it was necessary.
‘Bye-bye sadness’ was her motto.
And now it was his turn to exorcise the worst fears a pet dog could ever suffer, and he didn’t know what to do! How do you deal with something like that? He had never been abandoned, he had lived with his natural family until they went to different owners, but they all had remained in Babylon Gardens. Abandonment was… was…
The cat hugged him, and Bino snuggled against her. “How can you stand all of this?” He asked through his tears, his voice almost reduced to a trembling whisper. “How can you?”
“We never stop hoping. Although, during the oppression of the old management, we had been crushed inside, knowing that it was sheer luck if one of use could be adopted, we never stopped hoping, it kept us alive. And Martin Foster is the answer to those hopes. Things have turned for the better for all of us, and you’ll see, your girlfriend will be just fine. You’re very sweet stay with her here.” Then she started purring, almost cradling the tormented dog
Bino relaxed almost immediately. The next day he would regret that moment of ‘weakness’, but for now he understood why Fido could find comfort with a cat…
A flash of light startled both animals! Blushing, Bino understood what had just happened, and turned in time to see... “Peanut!”
Peanut Butter Sandwich was standing at the doghouse’ sill, holding his camera, and sporting a big smile. Beside him, there was Grape Jelly, whose eyes were wide as saucers.
“It’s true what they say,” said the cat. “Behind the scorn is hidden desire!”
Bino’s change of mood was so sudden that one could have thought of a split personality. He pulled himself from the cat’s hug, growling at the two intruders as if he wanted to eviscerate them. “What do you want you meddlers!? Did you come for a cheap laugh?!” He stormed out of the doghouse. He snatched the camera from Peanut’s paws and threw it on the ground, then stepped on it until he had crushed it into a shapeless heap of plastic and circuits.
Peanut and Grape looked at him, bewildered. Never had that yappy cur shown such a fury.
“And don’t try it again, you got that?! Sasha is way too important for your funny games!! You and your friend!” He pointed at the cat in the doghouse. The female was simply too astonished at the transformation of that sweet dog into a hellhound. “Yes, I know you sent her to play the funny joke on me! Ha-Ha, see? Stupid Bino fell for it, and now go gossip all you want but leave me alone!” That said, he went back inside. He was panting like an angry bull. He turned a scathing look at the shelter cat. “And what are you’re still doing here? Shove off!
The poor girl went out without even understanding what was going on, but she had dealt with her share of traumatized animals, and knew when it was the time to leave the mutt alone.
Grape, however, stayed where she was. A moment later, she walked into the doghouse, followed by a hesitant Peanut. They kneeled down in front of Bino, not daring to seat on the empty cot. Grape Then she said something Bino never thought would hear coming from her lips. “Sorry about that.”
Bino sighed, “I guess I deserve it, right? For the way I always treated you, Peanut...” he chuckled. “Karma knows how to bite hard, heh.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Peanut, with a completely different tone than his usual cheerful one. Grape never ceased to be fascinated by those sudden displays of maturity in her beloved mate.
Bino had a similar reaction: he looked as if he was standing in front of a very different dog from the one he knew.
Peanut took Bino’s paws in his. “We know how you’re feeling, and we were not making fun of you. The picture was just a… stupid random act. Believe me, if I could do anything to help Sasha, I’d bite Mom and Dad into taking her with us.”
Bino smiled bitterly. “And do you think I’d let you turn her into some cat-lover? Dream on, weirdo.”
Peanut chuckled. “Nah, I’m happy enough to know that you’re on the right path to that.”
Bino gave him a mock punch on the shoulder. “Stupid cat lover.”
“Can we do anything to help?” Asked Grape.
Bino looked back at the empty cot. “I don’t know. Heh the great ringleader, founder of the Good Old Dogs Club, who can’t organize a thing in this mess. All of the King’s dogs couldn’t give a house to the Queen...”
“Ola,” said a new voice from the entrance.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” sighed Bino. “At least you’re in good company.”
“Is there any room in there for us?” asked King, who had come together with Fox and Lucky.
Without saying a word, Peanut and Grape hugged Bino. After a moment’s hesitation, the hound returned the hug, his nose sunk between their shoulders.
Grape gave him a pat on his shoulder. “Call if you need anything, okay?”
Peanut and Grape went out, and King came in first. The corgi sat on Bino’s cot, while Fox and Lucky, for now, remained outside.
Bino couldn’t keep himself from looking suspiciously at his ‘rival’. In a very serious tone, King said, “I owe you an apology, mister. And don’t make me said that again.”
For the second time Bino was sincerely taken by surprise. “Uh... Apologies accepted, I suppose?”
King sighed. “I apologize for giving you a first bad impression about me, you hysterical, petulant, nasty primadonna. You were always thinking, ‘Here comes the new dog, the King romping around to steal my friends and my girlfriend!’ or something, right?”
Bino nodded. “So what?”
“So I never wanted to steal anything or anybody from you. Especially Sasha.
“After leaving the Club, that night, I simply wandered through the Gardens. I didn’t even know she existed at all... Then I heard her calling to me. She thought I was a cat because I reeked of cat (and nitro). She offered to walk with me, because she thought it was nice to have someone around, and I treated her like a doormat.
“Then she sat down on the sidewalk and stood there in the snow, staring at her house as if the door would open at any moment. And you know what she said when I asked her why wasn’t she going home? She answered that her Dad had locked her out again cause she hadn’t gotten him any babes at the party. The way she said that, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She was just sitting there, staring at her own house, just waiting for that miserable… pathetic excuse of a human...” King’s mouth twisted in a silent snarl as if he wanted to bite something, his fists clenched tightly. When he had regained control, he said, “Well, I just couldn’t leave her there all alone, Bino, got it? Would you have walked away just like that? So I kept her company for the night, she didn’t ask for more. No food, only snow to eat and a blanket made of old newspapers, but she was happy to be with someone. Said it was like a sleepover…” King smiled at the memory of her happy expression.
“That’s why I built that doghouse, in the grove. I wanted her to be protected in case her… human would lock her out again. Giving it to her on Valentine’s Day was just...” King blushed slightly. “…to be nice, but not to be a show off or to steal her from you. She was so delighted when she saw the doghouse… and rambled a lot about how much you and her would have been cozy and happy inside it. Bino this, Bino that… Sheesh, not even a Knight of the Round Table would’ve been as much praised by Guinevere herself.”
Bino thought back to when he had, instead, recycled a series of gifts coming from Sasha through the years, including a unicorn he had been given at his first birthday. In the end, Sasha, although happy for those gifts, had promised her boyfriend to staple his ears to his eyeballs if he ever tried that again. King’s words made him feel a worthless worm. “You never wanted to...”
The Corgi patted his thigh. “Just pay attention to the others, smarto. Oh, and since we’ve got enough room, I thought you would have liked a couple of things from her doghouse. Boys?” At his signal, Lucky and Fox brought in a little piano. Bino recognized it: he was one of his gifts that he had recycled for Sasha. She said she had never owned a piano, yet she had played that instrument like a real pro. The song was marvelous…
And there, on the piano, Fox put that unicorn little statue.
Bino took the object, caressing it tenderly. “Her favorite…” he mumbled. A girly gift from a girl of course...
Fox hugged Bino, tight. “We’ll all give only our best. Everything’ll be all right.”
Lucky nodded. “I talk from experience, man. She’s safe here, and surely better than at her old place, Mr. Martin will take care of her as if she were his daughter. He has done so much for each one of us, he won’t do less for her.”

He could only pray.
Martin Foster kept looking at his watch as if in this way he could accelerate the flow of time.
There were periods during which he spent two weeks on only three hours of sleep. He and the coffee had a wonderful relationship: two cups sufficed to keep him awake until dawn.
“You should rest, Boss, or the candidates will be thinking you came out of a madhouse,” said Evelyn Summer, his assistant.
Martin ran his hand against the shadow growing on his face. He grunted, opened a drawer and took an electric razor. He turned it on and started to shave.
Evelyn wrinkled. If she had a son, she wouldn’t have raised him that way! “Boss, there are the bathrooms for that.”
He grunted again, but didn’t stop. He needed a distraction, any distraction, anything to do, however insignificant, to forget that he had to wait until morning to contact the potential candidates for Sasha’s adoption...
The phone rang. Evelyn was about to take the phone, when Martin made it first.
“Shelter,” he answered. Forgive me, Lord, but let it not be another abandoned innocent, not tonight of all nights amen.” ...Oh, it’s you, dear. Tell me. Mm-hmm? Really?” At that point, Martin’s expression became really surprised.

“Bad penny for bad thoughts?” Fox asked.
Bino’s gloomy expression was back on his face as he looked toward the entrance to the doghouse from time to time. “Fox, where’s Fido?”
Fox scratched behind his head. “At the precinct. Night shift, you know.”
Bino snorted. “So typical: Babylon Garden’s mighty sentinel can’t find the time to visit his wicked brother. Tss.” He crossed his arms to his chest. “And what are you looking at, with that face?”
Fox stared angrily at Bino for a full minute, before facepawlming and shaking his head. “*Sigh* It’s when you rant like this, that I wish we were not friends, Bino. It would be easier to send you back to the emergency room, despite what you’re going through... Because you know you would complain even if he had come, wouldn’t you? You would have ranted that he was only here to steal Sasha from you. Look into my eyes and tell me I’m wrong.”
Bino didn’t dare to stand Fox’s hard blue eyes.
“Fido has his duties, Bino. I called him first right after Max had called me, and you should’ve heard the sadness in his voice when I told him about her, and when he told me he could make it only by tomorrow, because rules are not so flexible with dogs... He told me that you two are in his prayers, and that he’s asking for help from the humans at the precinct. He could just run to you right now, and have his tail kicked out of the K-9 Unit, if it will make you feel better.” Like Martin, Fox tended to become more dangerous when he didn’t raise his voice. Furthermore, Bino had already had a physical sample of Fox’s rage and that was enough for a lifetime…
Bino sank his head between his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Fox didn’t insist: Bino didn’t need any more scolding, and already he was showing an unknown side of his personality... No, getting him to clam up wouldn’t have helped anyone, least of all Sasha…
Before Fox could say anything more, Stanwick’s voice interrupted him. “Boys, I must ask you to leave now.”
The dogs came out the doghouse. One of the shelter’s dogs opened the structure in two halves to allow the veterinarian to gently lay the still sleeping Sasha on her cot. Then, the man put the two cots close.
After the doghouse had been closed back with a delicate snap of the hinges, Mordecai said, “I’ve given her a mild sedative. She’ll sleep peacefully until tomorrow, and I believe she’ll appreciate finding you nearby, when she opens her eyes. Apart from the psychological trauma, she’s physically fine.” He yawned. “And now excuse me, guys, I need to sleep or I won’t be able to distinguish a hypodermic needle from a nail. ‘Night.”
Bino went back to his cot. He lay down next to Sasha, and took her in his arms. The female let out a slight moan, and curled up almost like a cat. Bino gave her a slight kiss on the nose.
The other three dogs decided it was better to leave them alone, now.
Bino repeatedly stroked, gently, Sasha’s head fur.” And you never told me anything about that night. You didn’t want me to worry over you... I should’ve been there to check if everything was all right, instead of thinking of my stupid pranks.” A tear fell down on her cheek. “I wonder if I really deserve you...” He brushed his truffle against hers, then blew gently on it. “Bye-bye sadness.”
In her sleep, Sasha smiled and leaned her forehead against the hollow of his neck.
Bino drifted off to sleep almost without realizing it, and dreamed of praying mantises and tiny spaceships...
---
Peanut put the flash card into the laptop, a recent gift from Martin along with other electronic gadgets to celebrate the co-adoption of the two Sandwich pets. “Let’s hope it’s not been damaged...” Fortunately, Bino hadn’t seen them pick up that piece among the camera’s wreck.
Shortly after, the monitor showed Bino smiling in the arms of the shelter’s cat. Perhaps the first time ever one could tell the mean dog was in a state of bliss.

From the outside, a couple of pets walking by heard Peanut and Grape go “DAAAAWWWW!!”

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Apr 26, 2011 12:28 am, edited 1 time in total.



Fri Apr 22, 2011 9:26 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
DAWW indeed! Bino makes amends to everyone. Wow... I did not see that one coming. :lol:

That pic will become Peanut's new background image, isn't it?

I can't wait to see where this goes...

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Fri Apr 22, 2011 8:57 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
3.
The sun rose lazily over the hill that housed the Babylon Gardens Temporary Shelter for the Abandoned and the Ferals. The night’s humidity was turning into a fine milky layer over the grass.
Even inside the shelter, mist infiltrated the corridors defined by the guests’ houses, offering a view both pastoral and spectral.

Inside a certain doghouse, Bino moved his ears at the sounds of the distant working site of the future new, definitive shelter. The night before, Jeff’s dog hadn’t paid attention to those noises, he was too concerned about Sasha (and about his confrontation with his own past as well). He had fallen asleep holding her tightly to him, his mind focused on any way he could help his girlfriend out of the shelter and into a new family, now that her loser of a Dad had abandoned her.
Now Bino heard them all too well, and wanted to go to those stupid humans and bite their legs to stop them... not for himself but for her.
Bino gazed at the figure curled up almost into a ball against him, and he felt a wave of heat radiating from his stomach and chest.
His girlfriend, his talented airhead gal, who never failed to make him laugh. Bye-bye sadness...
It was at that moment that, with a very poor sense of romanticism, Bino’s arm muscles, which had supported Sasha’s head all night long, decided they wanted their supplies of blood. Bino tightened his teeth to stifle a groan of pain as the blood flow sent him unbearable pinches along his skin.
As gently as possible, the dog took his arm out from under Sasha’s head, then slowly let her go completely and left the cot to stand up. Last night, he hadn’t moved a muscle for fear of waking her, and now Bino’s whole body protested against that decision. Bino rubbed himself all over, but for once he allowed himself to smile instead of showing the usual scowl.
He would gladly do it again and again, he thought. He couldn’t believe he had spent so few times cuddling with her like that, when it made him feel so good… Yet he wished there wasn’t a need for this tragedy in Sasha’s life to get them closer.
How could her Da-human abandon her? What Roger Hartford, a monster who couldn’t surely be referred as ‘Dad’ anymore, had done was twice abominable, since he had done that to a sweet and wonderful creature like her!
Bino was fairly sure that Jeff would’ve given him full permission to teach that human a couple of things about manners!
“Biney-bun-bun-hon..?” Sasha’s drowsy voice froze him in the middle of a stretch. Bino turned.
Sasha was still half curled up, but her eyes were open, and a faint smile was showing on her muzzle.
Bino lay back down by her, ignoring the protests of his muscles. “Good morning, candy-head.”
Sasha looked around, sniffing at the air, trying to put together the memories still floating in a gray sea of slumber and uneasiness at waking in an unfamiliar place...
Then she remembered.
Bino had never seen Sasha sad. Ever since they were puppies, his little girl was... cheerful. She was joie de vivre incarnate; seeing that shattered expression, an angel whose world had just been destroyed, made Bino hold her tighter, as if he could, with that gesture, protect her from those sad feelings.
Sasha vented in a long cry all of the pent-up tension and pain from the day before. She clung to Bino as if (and he was) the only thing between her and madness. Her Dad had abandoned her, had fled from her leaving her only a letter of apology. She had done everything possible to cheer him up, to be a good doggie and make him happy, and he had abandoned her!
Bino felt her claws digging into his back, but he ignored the pain. Sasha needed help, nothing else mattered. “I’m here, puppy, I’m here. I won’t leave, I swear, I superextrasolemnly promise. Relax, please. I am here...” He repeated those words over and over again for almost an hour while her tears drenched his chest.
Eventually, Sasha came back to her wits. She was panting, trembling, but at least hadn’t again lost consciousness.
Bino then scratched his nose. “Better?”
She nodded. Both kneeled down. “Thank you, bun-bun.” She sniffled then began to look around. “This isn’t my doghouse.”
Bino stroke her head behind her ears. “This is Mr. Martin’s shelter. He has promised to do his best to find you a new family here at the Gardens. And if he doesn’t make it, I’m gonna bite his butt into next Christmas.” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t want to be parted from you, ever.”
Sasha’s gaze fell on the small piano, and started wagging furiously her tail. “Oh, you brought it here! It was really nice of you, Biney!”
Bino blushed. “Least I could do for ya, baby. I know how much you like to play it.” He hoped King could forgive him that small white lie.
Sasha nodded. “I’ll play something for you, later...” The sadness reappeared on her face. “Do you think I will have to stay here for long?”
Bino shook his head. “No, and whatever time it will take, I’ll be spending it here with you. Fox will run the Club, heck I’d give the position to Fido, too… But what really matters is your happiness” and again rubbed nose with her.
Sasha wagged again. “Can we meet the other animals now? I’m hungry, when’s breakfast? What’s to eat? Why are you giggling?”
Bino struggled to hold back the tears of joy. “Welcome back, candyhead.”
“DAAAWWW!” Said several voices from the sill. Irritable Bino was back. “They’re out there watching us?”
Sasha watched from over his shoulders. “Yes!”
*Sigh!* “Glorious crowd bath, here we come then.”

The two dogs came out of their house, and were greeted by the thick crowd of the shelter’s guests, all anxious to meet them, pat their backs and extend their congratulations.
“Not since the days of Ghost and Angel was there such a great love story!” said the cat that Bino had met the night before. “You really are a lovely couple, you know?”
Bino lowered his eyes and his ears appeared literally glued to the skull. “Ah, sorry for last night, cat, I was rude, and...”
“Ahh, don’t make a soap opera out of it. What matters now is that you two are together and happy. And then, I’m used to the manners of the males in this big happy family!”
“Hardy-har, mouse-tail!” Said a hazelnut-and-white furred female pit bul. The cat spun around and hissed at her. “Mind your words, Chicken-heart, you would let your own shadow tackle ya!”
Then other animals joined in a variety of comments, all more or less disrespectful, yet everyone sharing a sense of joy and camaraderie that Bino thought was extraordinary for creatures that must have suffered so much. Not only abandoned, abused and who knows what else, but also forced to spend at least a year inside the old lager, a place that the filthiest rat would’ve avoided…
“Hey, what have we here?” said a stern, familiar human voice. “Unlawful assembly? Disturbing the peace? Watch out, unruly flea bags, or you can forget your ice creams!”
“UNCLE MARTIN!” the shelter’s guests shouted as one. Then they crowded to hug and kiss their benefactor. For how much they still were without a family, they had found a new father in Martin Foster, and their conditions had improved from night to day.
The man handed out hugs and kisses to everyone as best as he could. “Now, now, behave; I have to see how our new friend is doing. Hello, Sash!”
She too glomped him, hugging his neck. “HI, Uncle Martini!” Sasha loved to invent nicknames for people she liked, that is for everyone. Judging by the chuckles coming from his guests, Martin realized he’d have to listen to many jokes in the times to come... “So, did you sleep well?”
She nodded vigorously. “It was great. Bino kept me company all night. He said he will stay here until you find a new family and that you’ll work hard for it. I’m hungry, what’s to eat? Can you give me those eggs and wieners you cooked at home for your pets and me? Please please please?”
Even without turning, Martin knew everybody was drooling. He also heard their stomachs rumbling. Spontaneity could be counterproductive, at times...
*Sigh!* “Look, folks, I promised that with the shelter you’ll be eating real food too. For now, I can only provide you the best Pets’r’Us can offer…”
“AWWW!”
“...But, in honor of Sasha, today I’ll be calling the restaurant and have a load of breakfasts the way she likes it for everyone.”
“YAY!”
“But today only, okay? And thank Sasha, not me. “
“THANK YOU, SASHA!”

That morning, much to the delight of the owner of ‘Rex’s Best’, almost a hundred breakfasts of scrambled eggs, sausage and hash were delivered to the temporary shelter. The guests could enjoy a double ration of their meal, while Sasha had the privilege of a third serving. She was a hyperactive dog who could burn calories as if she had a coal-hungry furnace in her belly.
“Hmm, yummyummyumy…” she said after putting her tongue-cleaned tray down. She patted her full belly then went to sit at the piano. “Time for music!” And again, with that natural skill that only she among the neighborhood’s pets seemed to possess, Sasha started playing, despite the instrument, a fine execution of Wim Merten’s Closecover. A sweet, poignant song, that brought to mind the fall season, but not in its gloom days. It evoked those magical moments when, while walking along with a friend or with your lifemate, your eyes fell on the lazy whirlpools of rusty leaves, when your nose could still catch the whiff of the last of Summer, and you felt at peace…
For the duration of the music, the activities in the shelter simply stopped. The animals, especially, listened ecstatic at those notes, for the first time forgetting the pains and the privations of their lives, simply glad to remember those good things they thought they had forgotten…
When Sasha had finished, a long moment passed, during which the minds of those animals clung to the fine essence they’d been blessed with… Then the applause broke out.
Bino had never been so proud of his girl.
“You’ve been fantastic, my dear,” Martin said from the doghouse’s sill, after about a minute. His eyes and smile reflected the truth of his words. “Are you ready for a visitor, now?”
Even Sasha’s left ear perked up in excitement. “A visitor!? Who is it?” At least she hadn’t mentioned her owner, that was a good sign. Sasha could stand the ugly things of life because she refused to let them stick in her thoughts...
“Come and you’ll see, lady. C’mon, Bino, you’re invited too.”

This time, when they came out of the doghouse, the silence had returned. The other animals looked at Sasha with great solemnity, without saying a word.
“Ah, what’s going on?” Bino asked. Being gazed at that way, in that unnatural silence was… unnerving.
“It happens that last night, Sasha, a person called, wanting to adopt you,” said Martin, indicating the guests. “And they’re expressing to you their sincere admiration in their own way... Sash?”
Sasha had stopped where she was, her eyes two pinholes. “A new family?”
Martin squatted hand held her gently by the shoulders. He nodded. “Yes, girl. Of course, I was hoping that the community here would respond quickly, and it happened even sooner than expected. It caught me off guard, but believe me, you couldn’t be with a better family. They came an hour ago, and now they’re waiting for you. “
Sasha looked down. Martin was right about her. She didn’t want to give importance to the bad things in her life. For how much being abandoned hurt her, she wanted a family to take care of her. Bino was important to her, but Sasha wanted the warmth and the love of a human family.
But what if Dad came back? Everything happened so quickly, Roger was gone for just one day. Sasha was so tempted by the go back in that doghouse, shut like a clam and wait for Dad to come back... Yes, a little voice inside her was suggesting just that, nevermind the others, just stay where she was, starving, because that would bring him running back. He loved her, he was her hero, Daddies didn’t just abandon their doggies, he was–
He was a drunkard who used you to pick up babes at parties, nothing else.
Sasha hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes during her considerations. Bino and Martin were saying something to her, but she wasn’t listening to them, she wasn’t listening to anyone, anything but those uglyuglyugly thoughts she usually didn’t listen to.
But now she had heard a voice.
Her own voice.
Sasha opened her eyes. And then she saw her.
Saw herself.
The shelter was gone, the hill was gone, the sun itself – it was all gone, everything was hidden in a milky mist.
Only Sasha was left.
And Sasha.
But this other Sasha was different. Her belly was clearly swollen. And she was smiling, just as she did when she wanted to cheer up Bino, or King, or Fox–
Dad never loved us, said the other, Sasha, although her mouth remained closed. He had already abandoned us long ago. His only act of love was leaving in the hands of Uncle Martin. At the old shelter, we would’ve died.
“Bad word,” uttered Sasha, on the verge of crying again. “Don’t say it.”
The Other Sasha hugged her. Her swollen belly was radiating a warm glow. Her voice spoke directly into the mind of her younger counterpart with the sweetness of a spring breeze, to calm her anxieties.
When Mr. Martin changed things at the shelter, Dad felt that Mr. Martin would have helped us find a better family. Dad is not coming back, you know, right?
“Yes...”
It’ll be okay now. Today marks the end of a long, long bad dream. Now you can go live with someone who will love you for real. You can believe in yourself, can’t you?
“Yes...” Sasha wagged, although hesitantly. “I can,” she added, while the mist disappeared, the familiar scents filled again her nose, and the arms that were encircling her weren’t those of her pregnant self, but those of Bino. Bino, the father of her future pups..?
“I’m happy, candyhead,” Bino said, giving her one last caress along her back. “Now let’s go. I can’t wait to meet your new parents!”

Seeing who was waiting in the interview room made him feel ashamed of some things he had said the night before.
The weirdest thing, Bino thought, was that he had expected it, but hadn’t wanted to admit it.
“UNCLE RYAN!” Sasha shouted, jumping at Ryan Byron, young programmer, D&D fanatic... and owner of Fido. Ryan was accompanied by his girlfriend, Bethany, who joined Ryan in the group hug. “Dear girl, we are so sorry for what happened to you...”
But those events already seemed to be forgotten by the female. “Are you my new parents!?”
“Certainly,” said Ryan. “Fido has promised to send me to jail if I didn’t adopt you, and Beth... Well, better you don’t know what she promised me if I didn’t comply. And then, I always wanted to get you somewhere safe from Roger.”
“Ryan...” Bethany warned him.
Sasha hadn’t even noticed. She was simply too happy for this development. Now she could live in a nice family, and with Fido of all dogs!
“Sasha,” said Fido, from the sill, “Can I, ah, steal Bino for a minute?”
She broke off the embrace with her new parents, and almost ran to him. Before Fido could do or say anything, she grabbed his head and planted on his muzzle a kiss passionate enough to melt concrete! The others just stared, speechless to say the least.
After that intense expression of gratitude, Sasha pulled up the poor dog, and gave him one of her viselike hug-crush. “Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou Fidey!!! I’m so happy that we go live together! The girls will roast with envy, and–”At that point, a very stormy-faced Bino grasped his brother’s arm and dragged him away.

“Bino, please,” Fido was still trying to explain things as he was being carried as if he was the younger of the two. “It’s not like you think, really! You know her, that was just her way of… Bino?”
Bino had let go of his brother. Still giving Fido his back, he had bent in two, paws laying on his thighs. He was trembling, and sobs were coming from him.
Fido swallowed. Of all the wrong things he could do, of all people that he could hurt or disappoint, Bino and Joey were not among them. He hated the idea that his brother might dislike or hate him, he’d do anything for–
Wait a minute... Bino wasn’t crying! “Bino..?”
Bino burst out in a loud laugh! Babylon Gardens’ most rancorous, snotty and petty hound was laughing merrily, using a paw to clean his muzzle from the tears of joy. “Omigod, your face! Hahahaheheh.. wooo! I’d pay to see it again, you looked like you wanted to do hara-kiri hohohoho...” Bino took another minute to regain control.
Fido’s eyes were wide open. “All of this amused you!?” He just didn’t get it. Bino was jealous of Sasha to an almost pathological level. He became ballistic just when Sasha greeted Fido...
And now that she had behaved like that, right in front of his brother, Bino... had laughed! “I don’t understand,” said Fido scratching behind his head. Luckily, Spo was busy elsewhere. He wouldn’t have stood his jokes on the matter on top of this…
“Of course I enjoyed it, big brother. Now come, let’s get comfortable.” They went to an empty doghouse, furnished only with a cot. When they had sat down, Bino said, “I know very well that Sasha loves me, and that was her way of thanking you. And I must expect a lot of swooning as well, after all she did put up that sign reading ‘I want your Puppies’ when you came back from the Academy.”
Fido blushed slightly, remembering it. He was lucky that the Foster pets had moved in, many fans had turned their attention to them, although Sasha was still a hardcore one for the police dog. “Yes, she’s what she is, but please don’t think that I’ll ever try and take advantage of the situation to–”
Bino interrupted him putting a hand on his shoulder. His expression was... different. It was a strange mix of relief, happiness and seriousness. Fido realized there were shades of his brother’s personality that he didn’t know at all.
“I know you would not, even if Sasha and I broke up. You wouldn’t seek an advantage, because it’s in your character, and because it is Sabrina you love more than your life. I might believe you’d stab me in the back, but not hers.”
On those words, Fido had brutally BSODed. It took him about five minutes to fully realize what he had just heard. “You… know?” He was afraid to speak now. He was seeing his career passing before his eyes like a movie, and ending in the most humiliating way, his life shattered, everything he had fought for discarded like trash… A criminal found guilty on the spot wouldn’t have been more scared than Fido in that precise moment.
Bino shrugged. “Heh, I’ve known it since the first time you came back from her house. You were wagging, smiling like a dope and smelled of her as if you had worn her. The first time I thought that maybe you had come across a bunch of groupies, but every time you were late, the scene repeated. Your dopey smile and her scent on you. ‘Transparent’ was an understatement.”
Bino stopped smiling. He kept his eyes down, a look of shame on his face. “I kept this secret well hidden because I was hoping to use it against you. I had the perfect secret weapon to use against you whenever I chose to, and you couldn’t have stopped me.
“But I also saw that it was her that made you happy, after the most stressful days.” Bino looked up, his ears flat. “You are a strong dog, our local hero, but you too need someone special to keep going on, and for some reason that I will never understand, that darned cat is the special person...
“I never found the guts to just go there and discredit you. You may be a glory-sponge, but how could I make you unhappy? Especially now, what with all that Sasha is suffering. She needs me, just like you need Sabrina, and ruining your life would be so… so…” At that point, Bino hugged Fido with all his might!” You were great! Without you, she would’ve been here for who knows how long! How can I thank you?” Then he swallowed hard and, without leaving his brother, head lying on Fido’s shoulder, he asked. “Don’t ask me to be nice to Peanut. Or to King...”
Fido shook his head. Incorrigible little brother! “Take care of Sasha, Bino, I couldn’t ask for more from you. And don’t thank me, I have to thank you, on behalf of Sabrina as well. I’m sure she’d appreciate your words.”
Bino shrugged. “I’m the best, I know. However, don’t worry: I will defend your sinful secret until you decide to do your outing. Okay?”
Fido nodded. “Deal! I knew you were the best of the litter.” He let go of Bino. “By the way, the Good Old Dogs Club has been informed of the news and has already prepared a party in you and Sasha’s honor. They’re just waiting for you.”
Bino blushed. “Aw, guys, you shouldn’t have. Tell the guys we’ll be there ASAP.”
“Tell ‘em yourself: Mr. Martin has prepared a webcam link from his office...”
Bino’s eyes lit up. “Super!” He pushed his brother aside – or rather, threw him off of the cot, to run out. Only at the last moment, when he was on the sill, he turned and said, “And tell Sasha I’m gonna be by her in a minute! I love you!”
“Good old Bino.” Fido muttered, shaking his head, while standing up. That was why he let him run the Club with as little interference as possible. He knew a good dog’s heart was beating under all the layers of his temper. Too bad that it had taken Sasha’s familiar tragedy to reveal that side, but at last there was hope for real…
Fido must consider telling Sabrina about this development…
---
Welshman House

“Fixed,” said the man known as ‘Pete’. “I hope you are satisfied, King. Now you can stop barking in my ears to help Sasha…” Pete reached for the newspaper, and opened it. Being an omnipotent being didn’t make the sheer variety of events transpiring in this inferior plane of existence any less interesting.
The corgi standing in front of the chair where his ‘master’ sat, said, “Is that all? I don’t even know what you’ve done, ol’ featherbrain!”
Pete lowered his newspaper, revealing the more familiar head of a blue-feathered griffin with a golden beak and eyes. “If you care to know, I summoned an astral projection of Sasha’s future self to help her come to terms with her new status, instead of letting her thoughts fester. This way, she left the shelter bringing away her problems from the mind and heart of Martin Foster. Two aids for the price of one, my boy, and it’s been a long time since I did that.”
King was about to ask him what this all had to do with his brother, and why this sudden generosity... Though, since Martin’s arrival at the Gardens, Pete had proven himself far less strict toward the corgi that used to be a PETA member...
The griffin’s head disappeared behind his newspaper. A few moments later, puffs of pipe smoke fluttered in the air. Pete said only, “That guy will have something else to worry about, my boy.” And he said with that matter-of-factly tone that didn’t allow replies. And King didn’t want to end up back inside the carrier...
---
Bino nearly threw the office door off its hinges. “Is it here?”
Martin was waiting at his desk, pointing at a chair next to his. “They were waiting just for you, fearless leader.”
Bino jumped up. He was wagging his tail frantically. Martin gave him a pat on the head. “You were really gr–”
The dog shoved the hand away with a quick gesture. “Yes, yes, I know. Now leave me alone, yes? Hey, guys!”
A chorus of howled and barked greetings answered from the computer. One could see the club’s members were truly proud and happy for their President. Bino was about to light up like a bulb. He lived for these moments of glory.
“Bino,” Fox said after the assembly had cooled down enough, although many continued to toast to him with glasses of orange soda, “I guess you won’t have a problem welcoming three new members into the club, right?” And the camera was moved to frame Antares, Aldebaran and Mizar. The Foster pets were actually the most sought animals, after Fido, and the club would’ve only gained more in glory with their membership! Bino cleared his throat and solemnly said, “So be it. Foster pets, you are now officially members of the Good Old Gods Club! Fox will give you a copy of the status to which you’ll submit, without exception. And your cards, since now we have them at last.”
“Yay!” cried the canine twins.
“Hey, Bino!” Continued Fox. “There’s also this gift for you, from Peanut and Grape. They say it will make everyone understand that deep down you’re not as bad as you want us to believe. And we all agree.” The camera was moved, this time toward a picture on the wall, on display behind the speaker’s podium. The picture was hidden behind a thick canvas...
Bino had a sudden bad feeling.
Rex, the bulldog, went to the canvas and pulled it down.
Revealing a certain picture taken in a certain doghouse, last night...
---
“PEEEAAANUUUT!” The long howl sounded like the call to war of Fenrir the Wolf himself. “GRAAAAAAPE!”
The dog and the cat, cuddling in their common pet bed, hearing the sound that shook the windows, broke their embrace just enough to hi-five.
“Sweet revenge,” the cat sighed. Good guy or not, Bino had spent way too much time giving trouble to her Peanut. And she had a long memory and every intention of returning the favors…

SEASON I
Episode 7
Fin

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:43 pm, edited 2 times in total.



Sun Apr 24, 2011 1:30 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
must say I just read all you had up and say you are AWESOME!

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Sun Apr 24, 2011 6:09 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
:lol: Great update, Valerio. Grape and Peanut sure know how to get a revenge!


And Bino is nice!? That's a shocker.

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Sun Apr 24, 2011 7:05 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Oh, God... I finally managed to get through this entire thing. And from what I hear, it goes on for so much longer. I love this so much.

I really like how you approach Bino and Sasha's relationship. It's actually quite novel, in my opinion. Not many people give Bino that kind of chance, and seeing how he evolves as a character in this fanfiction is something I look forward to.

Here to the rest of your stories! :D


Sun Apr 24, 2011 7:09 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
I'll do my best to translate everything ASAP then keep The Series here.
And yes, it's a LOT of stuff, all for your fun!

And yes, despite Bino being the local jerk, I'm gonna give him some chances. After all, here he didn't act SO bad he doesn't deserve a place in the sun ;)

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Mon Apr 25, 2011 1:36 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
HOUSEPETS: The Series
Episode 8 – The Pride and the Lost Friend
Written by VALERIO (later revised by OBBL)

1.
Sandwich House, Babylon Gardens, 8 am

“Peanut! Wake up, Peanut! Come on, lazypup! It’s the great day, wake up!” Speaking like one of the Milton Ferrets on caffeine, Grape Jelly was trying to bring her sleeping boyfriend into the world of the living.
Peanut Butter kept snoring blissfully, sprawled on his back and his tongue hanging from his mouth wide open.
Grape tried them all – shouted in his ears, scritched his tummy, bit his tail, held his nose... Nothing worked in the least!
The cat was undecided between admiring his resistance and killing him. “Desperate times…” She muttered, and left the room, stomping her feet.
She went down to the laundry, and there she took an empty plastic bucket. Using the stool, she reached the sink and filled the bucket to the brim. It was quite tiring, but it was worth it: nothing like a cold shower in the morning could wake up that mutt. Plus, all in all, she was doing him a favor: his bath day was only a couple of days away.
Grape left the laundry room, puffing and swearing under her breath, while holding the heavy bucket, when Peanut passed in front of her. The brown-colored dog still looked half-asleep, and yawned loudly. “‘Morn’ng, Grapey,” he muttered. *Nghff!* “‘Morning, Peanut,” she said... Then he realized, and went BSOD.
Peanut didn’t understand half of the obscenities that came out of her mouth, but they surely made him blush as he closed the bathroom door. He took the stool and used it to go to the sink. He put some paste over his brush and started brushing his teeth. Mom and Dad had made some small improvements for their pets, such as glasses with the ‘P + G’ logo for their paste and brushes, their own ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels (colored like their furs), and that stool large enough to accommodate both pets standing.
Grape went into the bathroom at that time. “Step aside, monster,” she snarled. She climbed up on the stool and took her toothbrush. As she put some paste on it, she said, “Do you remember what day it is today, at least?”
Peanut finished rubbing his teeth and spat. “Of course! Tonight’s the presentation of the Pridelands’ fourth book: The Dragon and the Mask! I wonder if this time we will know everything about the identity of Dreydo” Peanut wagged his tail, smiling like a puppy. “He could be the son of Saso, wouldn’t it be so totally extracool?!”
Grape brushed her teeth and spat. With her mouth still dirty with foam, she said, “You see a child of Saso everywhere, Peanut. And you still think he’ll replace the King Cheetah and bring peace and love in the Pridelands with the same ease with which Uncle Martin gives us gifts... By the way, he’ll be our chaperon, tonight, right?”
*Shooga shooga shooga-spuh!* Peanut took the glass and rinsed his mouth. Then he took the mouthwash. Martin Zechary Foster’s Pets were hardcore fans of the book series, and had collected the videogames’ deluxe set as well.
He took a swig of mouthwash and started rinsing. He spat, and ran his tongue between his teeth, smiling at his reflex. “And now, the real test...” He turned, gently took Grape’s head in his paws and kissed her deeply. “Good enough?” He asked.
“Mrow,” she said flashing her teeth in a wide grin. She then took the mouthwash. “My turn now.”
---
Byron House. More or less at the same time.

One thing that Fido suffered in his relationship with Sabrina was that he was rarely able to afford to wake up next to her, like it or not.
Opening her eyes on the canine figure curled up next to him made him smile. Sasha had joined the Byron family for good yesterday, and it had been a revolution. Over the years, the males of the Gardens had covered her in gifts at each Valentine’s Day. Only the white chocolate would’ve turned her into a walrus, had she not been blessed with a rocketship-like metabolism.
Then there was everything else, including cushions, decorations, rubber bones and other toys. Legend had it that it took four months just to inventory all the gifts of a single Valentine’s Day. Sasha could be a happy, adorable airhead, but she was definitely quite popular!
At last, Dad and his girlfriend had a pretext to decorate the basement that Fido used as his room, so that it fit a civilized dog, instead of having only a doggie bed and a chest there.
Fido still had to get used to the... feminine touch. He used his room to sleep only, that was why it was so poorly furnished. And since Sasha had to spend more time, there, she had the right to choose the style.
Fido gently stroked the shoulder of his new housemate. “Good morning, Sasha.”
“Mrmm? Hi, Fidey,” she muttered. She gave out a loud yawn, and smacked her lips. “Merry morning. What time is it?”
“Bill’s going to give me a ride to the precinct. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
Sasha wagged her tail, producing a hollow sound against the mattress. “Aw, you’re sweet. I’m going to the match, this morning. Can we eat something first, together?”
Match? “Only dry food, I’m afraid. Dad is still sleeping, and Beth has already gone to work.” Ryan teleworked, Bethany was employed at the local Credit Institute Greenbank. “We have taken the special ones you like. Tonight I’ll go with the Foster family, and Peanut and Grape, to the Gardens Grand Mall for the preview of the new Pridelands book. Are you interested to join us?”
Her enthusiastic answer almost pierced his eardrums.
---
Costner house. More or less at the same time.

“Keep leaning through the window that way, and you’ll end up spending the night at the ER, not the GM.”
Maxwell ignored Bino’s words. He sighed again like a tragic Juliet while looking in the direction of the Sandwich household. So close... and yet so far. As if she lived on another planet, as far he was concerned.
Bino yawned. “Look, why don’t you just go to her place, apologize and make up? Perhaps she has cooled off by now. She’s way too busy swooning after her fleabag to be mad about you.” Fido’s brother chuckled at his own joke. Since Grape had chewed up Max’s face, the cad had become such a good target…
“Wish it were that easy,” said Max. He left the window and sat down next to Bino. “I seem way able to mess up things with her every time we make up, well at least after a week tops. And I’m no longer her boyfriend, so what can I do?” Then he punched Bino’s flank, out of the blue!
“Ouch! What’s got into you now?” Bino rubbed his aching spot.
“You could’ve told me that you knew about Fido’s secret relationship before I thought to join you in mischief at his expenses! Instead, now I’m alone, while you and your big bro are best buds!” And gave him another fist in the same spot.
“Ouch!”
Grape had really gone ballistic at the idea that Max would join Bino in one of his pranks at the expense of the police dog. ‘Tormenting Fido’ was a taboo subject, since, not too long before, Grape was having her own secret relationship with Peanut and understood what Fido could’ve suffered if his secret was found out.
Maxwell, on the other hand, loved to tease dogs in general, and grape had gladly joined him in some pranks. But Peanut and Fido were a no-no. And, seeing Max ready to break that sacred rule had ended up bad even for the two cats’ friendship.
Bino decided to get up, if only to avoid being struck a third time. “Look, I didn’t know that Sasha could be abandoned by her human. I didn’t know I’d end up being the nice guy. And it seemed right to tell the truth to my brother, since his family was going to adopt Sasha!”
“I hate your timing, not your goodwill. Bah!” Max stood up. “Gonna check on Dad. He said he was getting a cold, yesterday, I hope he’s fit to take me to the Mall tonight.” He left the room while Bino muttered something about hoping his housemate was away as long as possible, tonight.
Max reached Jeff’s door...
And, saw a paper note hanging from the door.
It didn’t bide well...
---
Foster Mansion. Still more or less at that time

“This should do,” said Martin Foster, admiring the results of his efforts.
Babylon Gardens’ richest human’s fleet included a huge vehicle, a Hummer H2 SUT. 5.17 x 2m of black-chromed hull, 2900 kg propelled by a V8 engine with 393 hp. Martin had named it ‘Bismarck’.
Using his trunk as well, he had furnished the car with seven special pet-seats, with room for one more in case of a last-minute invitation.
And, most important of all, with the pretext of the trip to the Mall, Martin had finally taken a day for himself. Moreover, the works for the new shelter were going on steadily, the temporary shelter was in the capable hands of Miss Sunman, who had all the required experience, Thomas was successfully multiplying the funds he had been entrusted with, and Celia was being kept busy with shopping. So Martin could keep up with his family and their friends without any afterthought. He felt guilty enough already for missing staying with his sons because of his job as director of the shelter, he wouldn’t let them miss this event, nossir!
Martin turned and went to the exit. Now for that baseball game he had promised...
*Tic* The unmistakable sound of claws against the concrete. *Tic-tic* came from behind the car. Light steps, like a cat’s… “Alcor, is that you?”
Silence.
Martin raised an eyebrow. He smiled. “Mm-hm, someone is trying an ambush, eh? Too bad I spotted you already...” he crept up to the vehicle’s front, and quickly stuck his head over the trunk. “Ha! Gotcha–”
What he saw was a black-furred figure. Jet black, with emerald eyes, like so many cats around…
But, in that moment, Martin thought only of a single cat he knew who looked like that creature. “Coal..?”
Coal, the meat importer’s mascot.
The dead mascot. Beat to death by a drunk worker who hated cats.
Martin knew exactly how Spo had felt, that time the mouse had seen his first ghost ever.
The cat walked behind the car.
“Coal…” Martin followed the figure, but when he reached the car’s nose, he found he was alone... Aside from Alcor, who was waiting at the door with a Yankees cap pulled down over his head, and a baseball bat resting on his shoulder.
“Ready, Dad?” asked the white cat. Then he saw the man was crying. He got worried at once, worried for his Dad and worried for their family day together. Alcor felt ashamed at that thought, but he knew Dad would’ve run at a moment’s notice, in case of any emergency. “Are you okay, Dad? Is it about the shelter?”
Hearing his cat shook Martin out of his trance. He quickly wiped his eyes with his shirt. “What?! No, love, no emergencies, no shelter. I… thought I…” I thought I saw another poor animal I couldn’t protect, that’s all. “I was lost in a bad memory, that’s all. Forgive me.”
Alcor went and hugged the human that had rescued him from certain death. “We love you Dad, there’s nothing to forgive.”
Martin stroke the purring cat’s back. He didn’t know what had happened, but he decided to put that behind himself right there and right now! It was strictly verboten to have any problem, toda–
“MR MARTIIIIN!”
Right on!
It was Max, and was running toward him as if his tail was on fire. “Mr. Martin,” He stopped, panting like a dog-tired dog. “Heavens, my heart...”
Alcor seemed ready to chew some face. Martin asked, “What’s up, Max?”
“Mr. Martin...” Max handed him the note he had found on his master’s bedroom door.
Max, I’m sorry but I can’t bring you to the book’s presentation, tonight. This darned cold really seems to love me a lot, more than I love you. So, only for tonight, you and Bino have permission to help yourselves to the fridge, but only if you clean up everything. This doesn’t go IF you get a ride from someone else.
Love, Dad.
Max had gone all puppy-eyes on Martin. “You can take me too, right?”
Martin sighed. Half of the neighborhood was going to the Mall, but… “You’re asking me ‘cause Grape is coming with us, right?”
Max put his paws behind his back, flattened his ears and rubbed his foot against the gravel. “Um... yes?” The tone was meek, but that hint of a grin was unmistakable.
Martin rolled his eyes. “Why the heck not? I got room for you too as well, though you’ll be cramped a bit.”
“YAY!”
“Then you’re with us? How great!” said a familiar feminine voice.
“Sasha..?” said the black cat, turning.
The female German Shepherd was accompanied by several representatives of the fairer sex. They were bringing their own popcorn, orange soda and flags.
“Fidey asked me if I wanted to come with him, even though I didn’t know he liked Pridelands! Can I come too, Uncle Martini? We’re ready for the game! You playing, too, Maxie? “
“Playing what?” asked a confused cat. Martin grabbed his paw. “You have just been recruited into the Yankees vs. Red Socks match, my boy! Alcor, go call Bino, perhaps he’ll be interested in showing off for his girlfriend. Oh, and Sasha, you may come as well.”

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Last edited by valerio on Tue Apr 26, 2011 1:28 am, edited 2 times in total.



Mon Apr 25, 2011 1:40 pm
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