Jasslous first fic
title
Ziggy
fandom
The OC
timeline <
td>
post series final
beta
a/n
Be patient it's my first attempt at fic. All
mistakes are mine!
a/n
MY many thanks to my friend nullsys for
giving me the nudge of support and the courage to try my hand at my first
fic. Thanks you're the man!!
disclaimer
I don't own Ryan but I did have a dog like Ziggy
when I was young.
The alarm wakes Ryan up at six thirty am prompt. Not the
clock on his bedside table, which is set for seven fifteen, but a piercing
bark from the hall.
He pulls the pillow over his head and tries to get back
to sleep. There's a fat chance of that, because the bark alarm has no off
button. It repeats at thirty-second intervals until he feels thoroughly
guilty. After all, it's been shut in the house since midnight, and is
probably desperate for a pee.
He rolls out of bed, to stagger down the hall and open
the study door. Eleven and a half kilos of Golden Spaniel is lying at the
ready beside his basket, hindquarters splayed out behind him, tail swishing
the floor like a starter's flag. In a split second he's up and running,
pushing between Ryan's legs without so much as a cursory glance at his
master. And instead of heading for the cat-flap that leads into the garden,
he runs towards the kitchen, still barking, with a victorious glint in his
eyes.
Ziggy might be bursting for a pee, but what he wants even
more urgently is his breakfast.
Furious with himself for having been taken in by the same
stunt Ziggy pulled yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that,
Ryan heads back to bed. But a minute later, wet black nose appears beside
his pillow, along with a pair of feathery golden paws and a cloud of warm
doggy breath. "Go away Mutt!" "Go find Seth" he murmurs, only rather less
politely.
Not one to give up easily, Ziggy keeps up a persistent
one-sided conversation at Ryan's bedside. There's only one way to get rid of
him at this time in the morning, and that is to give in. Ziggy's having
lessons from Seth Ryan thinks to himself.
In the open-plan kitchen-cum-living room, Ziggy throws
himself down as close to the refrigerator as he can get without blocking its
door and stares at him with an unflinching gaze. Ryan doles out a generous
portion of all-in-one dry dog food into Ziggy's bowl and puts it down on the
slate hearth stone, but instead of jumping up to eat it Ziggy doesn't budge
an inch. He knows what's in there - a rubble of round brown biscuits - and
they tempt him far less than the droppings that litter the park. Loaded with
meaning, his eyes roll towards the fridge door then back to Ryan. What Ziggy
wants is sitting inside that humming metal box. And, just to make sure
Ryan's got the message, he repeats the eye-rolling a couple of times and
licks his lips.
For an animal whose brain is the size and consistency of
a mushroom, Ziggy has pretty effective communication skills much like
Seth's!
Relenting after all Ryan wouldn't want to eat those
rabbit droppings either, he opens the fridge door and takes out the carcass
of last nights roast chicken. Ziggy dances a salsa of anticipation around
his feet as Ryan tears off a few morsels and adds them to his bowl and when
he carries it to the hearth stone Ziggy skids backwards in front of him,
unwilling to take his eyes off it for an instant. Even before it's hit the
floor, he dives into it. By the time Ryan turns around he's picked out every
sliver of chicken and is already barking for more.
"Sorry, kiddo," Ryan says firmly. "that's your lot" Ziggy
is definitely on the chunky side. Kirsten put him on a weight-loss diet ever
since he recovered from anorexia, Ryan and Seth are supposed to make sure he
sticks to it. Easier said than done!.
He returns to the fridge and barks intermittently at its
closed door. Ryan's doing his best to ignore him. Where's Seth when you need
him?. Ryan tries to earn brownie points by making a stab at the detritus
left by the girls, Seth and himself the night before. A discarded sweater
scrunched up between the sofa cushions, mobile phone on the draining-board,
poker chips on the mantelpiece, open milk carton souring on the coffee
table. Which was sure to earn them a grounding. Especially the three
trainers (why always three?) just where Kirsten could trip on them.
Eventually Ziggy stops barking - Thank Fuck! - leaps on
to an armchair and glares sulkily, which doesn't work on Ryan, King of the
Glares. No Competition.
Slowly but surely the mutts head droops.
He's accepted that he's going to get nothing else to eat
in the immediate future and settles down to his favourite leisure activity;
deep comatose sleep.
At eight fifteen, having roused Seth from luxurious sleep
and informed him it's his rota day to exercise Ziggy. Seth rolls over and
goes back to sleep. Seems like every day is "my" rota day, Ryan thinks to
himself.
Actually he doesn't mind. After all Ziggy is his dog.
Having permission from Kirsten, he was allowed to break
the "No Pet" rule that Sandy had. With Ryan's birthday looming Ryan was
allowed to have a pet of his own! Seems like Sandy remembered the fate of
Ryan's pet rabbit in Ryan's unhappy childhood. Sandy agreed that it would be
a good birthday present for Ryan but with the proviso that Seth helped out.
The pleasure had been evident on Ryan's face when Sandy walked through the
door with the golden bundle off fluff.
Kirsten had gone into pet beauty parlour mode. Ryan told
her that "No way am I walking a dog with a ribbon on it's head." He decided
to name the mutt Ziggy. Kirsten noticed Ziggy had anorexia and when he
regained full health he ate anything he could get his paws on. Now he was a
very rotund spaniel and on a weight loss program, ordered by Kirsten.
Being unable to wake Seth, Ryan goes to wake Ziggy,
Since he knows what's next on the day's agenda he raises
his head with great reluctance and looks at Ryan with dread. Intent on
getting his own back for being woken so early himself Ryan cries "Walkies!"
in his most enthusiastic tone. With a smirk, he hopes he wakes Seth too.
He's on Ziggy's leash, drags him off the armchair and pulls him out of the
front door.
With a wistful backwards glance at the house, looking for
Seth's help, Ziggy trots down the road beside him, wagging his tail at every
parked vehicle in the hope that they're going to get into it. Walkies in the
car-that is sitting upright in the front passenger seat and staring out at
the passing scenery-is Ziggy's favourite form of exercise, which is why he
has a weight problem. "Gee thanks Seth" Ryan mumbles to himself.
Ryan strides firmly past the cars, while the recalcitrant
huge fluffy golden ball lags further and further behind him on his
extendable leash. This is just for starters!> "Thanks again Seth" Ryan
mutters. When Ziggy sees the Park looming in front of him he digs in his
claws and grinds to a complete halt. Ryan gives the five metres of cord that
now separates them a gentle jerk, but Ziggy doesn't budge. He try's coaxing
him, "Come on dude" then "Come on sweetie" Ryan shakes his head, but when he
still doesn't move exasperation breaks through: "Come ON! Ziggy! Heel! HEEL,
I said! Do as YOU'RE TOLD!". Ziggy plants his large four-square ass on the
sidewalk. "No way dog dude." Like gangsters at a showdown, they glare at
each other along the leash. Ryan remembers what the pet behaviourist he
consulted told him: that he must show Ziggy who's top dog, and never let
Ziggy get the better of him. "Okay" he says, as calmly as he can. "That's
enough!" Turning away from the golden monster, he carry's on walking and,
since Ziggy refuses to stop his sit-down protest, he's dragged along behind
Ryan on his ass.
His collar works it's way over one ear and, like the
drama king he is, he starts to cough and choke as if he's strangled.
"Oh, look at that poor little doggie!"
A group of children on their way to the local primary
school take pity on him, so Ryan's forced to stop. They surround Ziggy
crying, "Oh he's so cute!" Ryan turns his head away muttering, "You think!".
Fluttering his eyelashes, Ziggy jumps to his feet and snuggles up to them as
if chocolate wouldn't melt in his mouth. But as their mothers approach, he
moves to one side, arches his back and.........."Yuk" Ziggy lands a perfect
rosette on the sidewalk. Ryan flushes as he bends down to scoop it into a
hygienic plastic bag, the mothers catch up with their squealing offspring.
They glare at Ziggy and at him with revulsion, as if Ryan was letting down
the tone of Berkley neighbourhood. Powdered nostrils flaring, the women
shudder and pull their children away. One shoots Ryan such a filthy look
that you'd have thought he'd made the mess himself. "Way to go Zigs" Ryan
rolls his eyes and chuckles.
As he stands there, humiliated, the plastic bag and it's
warm, squidgy contents dangling from his hand, he feels inexplicably annoyed
with the dog. It's bad enough that he's one of the few dog-owners in this
classy neighbourhood who actually walks their own dog, rather than employing
a professional to do it, without having to pick up the dogs faeces too.
Besides, similar incidents to this one happen with such
regularity that he's beginning to suspect Seth of training Ziggy to engineer
them on purpose just to embarrass Ryan in front of his own species. In other
words Ziggy's getting his own back for being taken on a walk against his
wishes. Can this be true? Or was he barking mad?.
Now comes the matter of bag-disposal in the receptacle at
the end of his street. There it stands, a mud-splattered, pillar-box-red
contraption, bristling with E-coli and toxo-cara germs. Holding his breath
to stop himself from gagging, he lifts its lid with the very tip of one
finger, drops in the bag and sprints away before he's overcome with
toxic-fumes. This!, he reminds himself is the down-side of dog-owning.
Sometimes, at this hour of the day, it's hard to remember
what the upside is.
Ziggy does a i180-degree turn in the direction of
home-after all he's done his business now and can't see what further purpose
would be served by continuing the walk-but Ryan's having none of it!.
Ryan tightens Ziggy's leash, he pulls him across the road
that separated the residential streets of Berkley from the open acres of the
park. Then he congratulated himself on having scored a "major victory". He'd
actually got Ziggy out there, and it was only eight forty-five,
Ziggy realized that it was useless to try and get out of
the enforced march, he plodded along behind Ryan with a downturned mouth. HE
might be going walkies, but he was damned sure if he's was going to enjoy
it.
Ryan unleashed Ziggy when they tuned off the tree-lined
path on to the large meadow that sloped down to the ponds at the South End
Green. All around them retrivers, Labradors, Alsatians, Dalmatians,
dachshunds. Jack Russells and assorted mutts were bounding through the long
grass, running after balls, fetching sticks, or simply gambolling happily
beside their owners. Unlike them. Ryan's lazy Ziggy stayed rooted to the
spot, while Ryan strode ahead. "Hmmm I'll soon fix this!" thought Ryan to
himself. Half-way across the field, he glanced surreptiously over his
shoulder to see if he was following him. No! He's still in exactly the same
place as he was when he unleashed him. As usual Ziggy is taking a stand
against walking by standing still.
This is all down to Seth! Since their move to Berkley in
readiness for college and the unborn baby. Seth had got lazier and lazier.
No walking the new baby for Seth, Ryan thought. I am so going to kick his
ass!!
Ryan called him to "heel". He shouted. He whistled He
yelled. - Ziggy remained as immobile as the cute stuffed toy he
resembled.
Only when Ryan dodged behind a tree and Ziggy could no
longer see his master did he come to life. Afraid of losing his meal-ticket,
he took a few tentative steps in Ryan's direction, then broke into a fast
trot and, finally, a frantic run.
And as he ran a wonderful transformation took place:
Ziggy's miserable expression dissolved. By the time he was half-way across
the field Ryan could have sworn that he was smiling, perhaps even grinning.
Even a dog as exercise-shy as Ziggy is can't resist a run on the Green on a
sunny spring morning when the air was brisk and breezy and fresh, the sun
low in the sky and the trees about to burst into bud.
Ryan loves his life in Berkley, especially at this time
of year. He's so glad they all decided to live in Berkley, after Sandy and
Kirsten bought their old house back. At times he missed Marissa, but Ziggy
has stolen his heart now. There were some pretty hot girls in Berkley
too!
Suddenly Ziggy is a different animal. Or, rather he "is"
an animal. Nose to the ground he was like the hunting dogs from which his
breed was descended, he's followed the scent of thousands of rabbits,
squirrels and foxes and he's running hither and thither across the field.
He's putting up basking woodpeckers and charging at magpies. He's chased
squirrels up trees and drank water from muddy puddles. He's stopped to have
a sniff the earth, he fell onto his back and rolled from side to side,
kicked his legs merrily in the air.
Ryan was amazed and watched with amusement. While he's
sat on a bench, his irritation has melted away. Okay, Ziggy can be
difficult, wilful and stubborn and never liked being in the open air. He,
never liked to chase ball like normal dogs. He hardly ever obeyed commands,
or brought back sticks, shake paws or done other tricks. In fact he always
has been pretty useless. All he's ever been good for was eating chicken,
barking, tearing up tissues and being waited on hand and paw not unlike
Seth.
But every now and then he stopped being a spoiled brat,
of a royal prince and reverted back to being an ordinary mutt, full of pure,
exuberant animal joy .And watching him like that always made Ryan's spirit
Soar!!
Well satisfied by the long roll he'd had in the grass,
Ziggy looked extraordinarily pleased with himself, in fact smugly pleased
with himself. He jumped to his feet, noted where Ryan's sitting on the bench
and hurtles across the fields towards him and hurls himself onto his lap.
Hey! You're getting to chunky for this Dude" Ryan tells him. The family had
to get Ziggy an over sized cat flap. And quite often he needs help getting
through it!
Overcome with emotion for Man's Best Friend, Ryan gave
him a hug and kissed the golden fluffy fur on top of his adorable head.
"Good boy" "I do love you Ziggy Wiggy" Ryan cooed at him, like the dog-mad
boy he is at heart. Then as they sat on the bench together, a boy and his
dog were in complete, happy harmony, a pungent, noxious smell rises from
Ziggy's warm body. Ryan looked down and discovered that adorable Ziggy Wiggy
hadn't been rolling on the ground simply for the pleasure of it.
No, he'd been rolling in something---and it was sticky
brown and disgusting. Whatever it was-and Ryan didn't want to think about it
in too much detail- it was all over Ziggy's back, his muzzle, his hind legs
and his front paws. Not only was Ziggy covered in "it" so was he!!!
He pushed the "dirty, sticky" MONSTER off his lap and
wiped his own "dirty sticky" hands on a clump of grass. He'd attached the
leash to his dogs "dirty sticky" collar and headed off home. "Fuck! The
Kirstenator would be sick." Ziggy led the way; his "dirty sticky" tail was
hoisted high and waving like a tattered flag of victory. As well it might.
Against all expectations Ziggy had turned the tables on Ryan and had won the
battle; the morning walk that he'd had planned to last at least forty five
minutes, was over in ten. Seth's Ziggy walking tomorrow. He'd never let Ryan
live this down, that is unless Ryan threatened to kick his ass! And he could
imagine the look on Kirsten's face if she sees a "dirty sticky" Ziggy and
Ryan.
The moment he was through the front door he tore off his
filthy clothes and had thrown the dog into the bath.
But not before Ziggy had rolled on the hall carpet and
smeared it with substance he'd been covered with.
He washed and shampooed him then dried him with the hair
dryer. He shampooed the hall carpet, then scoured the bath. Finally he'd
scrubbed himself, put on some clean clothes and threw his dirty jeans into
the washing-machine with the dogs dirty towels.
Then he stuffed his stained coat into a plastic bag and
took it to the dry-cleaners. This time when Ryan left the house Ziggy stays
behind. As Ryan walks down the garden path the "dirty sticky" dog Monster
leapt on to the back of the sofa and looked at him reproachfully through the
bay window. Why was his master abandoning him, he seemed to ask. "I knew
that feeling too well in the past" Ryan thought. "Don't worry Ziggy, dude
I'll be back."
Ryan returns home to find him lying on Ryan's white duvet
cover which has in the last half hour mysteriously acquired a 101
Dalmatians' theme and is covered in big grey paw-prints.
He's fast asleep and snoring, with his big wrinkled nose
resting between his chubby paws. Even though officially he's not allowed on
the bed he looks so cute, innocent and peaceful that Ryan can't bring
himself to disturb him. Instead of starting some reading, he throws himself
down beside him.
Though it's only ten thirty, Ryan's exhausted. He's been
up for four hours and in one way or another, Ziggy has dominated all of
them. He called for Kirsten to come and look at him. "AWWW the sweetie,
don't disturb him" she said. Then she felt Ryan's brow and said "You look a
little flushed sweetie, you should have stayed in bed longer"
Ryan rolled his eyes.
Seeing the dog once more asleep, Ryan, now fully awake,
looks on enviously. Stupid dog!
fin