A Shaggy Dog Story

"What do you think, Mr Spock?"

Spock cast a sidelong glance at Jim, raising an eyebrow. "What do I think about what, precisely, Captain?"

"All of this," Jim said, waving his hand towards the landscape.

"It is aesthetically pleasing to one's eye, I would venture to say," Spock said.

"So, it's nice," Jim said, in a tone of what Spock had come to know as 'teasing'. "Good place for shore leave."

"Yes," Spock replied, about to add something about the peaceful tranquilness of the forest surrounding them when a noise met his sensitive ears. He paused, tilting his head infinitesimally.

"Spock?"

He took his tricorder in hand and scanned the area. "Readings indicate that there is a sentient being... bearing seven point two metres West." He looked up.

"Human?" Jim questioned.

Spock inclined his head in a nod. "Affirmative. There is also a second being..." He permitted himself the smallest of frowns. "A canine, if these readings are correct."

"A dog?" Jim asked, looking at him.

"Yes," Spock replied.

No more than had he said this, the second being in question came bounding out of the nearby forest. The tricorder readings were to be believed; the animal that was running at them was a rather unkept, unwashed, dog. Approximately forty-six centimetres tall, with long, matted hair, bright, hectic heterochromiac eyes, and a lolling, pink tongue.

"So it is," Jim muttered at his side. "The last time I saw anything like a dog was when we beamed up that dog that looked like it was a cross between canine and lion..."

Spock once again raised an eyebrow. "Captain, the canine at present does not seem to be slowing its approach."

"No? Well, it's just a dog. Look, there's it's owner."

Indeed, a human had appeared from the forest, yelling the animal's name ('Chip', it appeared), a leash and collar in hand.

"It seems pretty fixated on you, Spock," Jim said.

As Jim had stated, the dog was running straight towards him. Spock raised both eyebrows as the dog started to bark as it barreled towards him. "Most interesting. It is very excitable."

His mind, of course, played out the scenario before it actually happened. The animal was moving too quickly to properly come to a stop before it reached Spock. It was totally fixated on him and, while it had all the time to move out of the way, Spock could see that it would not. Therefore, the dog was going to crash right into him.

Spock barely had time to steel himself before the animal collided.

It seemed as though the large canine meant to jump, but could not haul its bulky weight into the air. Therefore, it's front legs made the ascent and the paws landed, with a surprisingly painful thud, squarely on Spock's chest. He dug in his heels, ignoring the press of the animal against him, as the dog's muddy paws soiled his uniform.

Even from afar, it had been easy to see that the dog was unkept, but, up close, it was... a nightmare. Along with the muddy paws, there was mud encased in the dog's fur, which seemed to drying from a likely swim in the nearby river. It smelled like, suitably, wet dog fur. It was most displeasing to Spock's heightened senses.

The dog pressed it's long, saliva-covered tongue against Spock's neck. Spock shivered before he could get ahold of his control, turning his head to cast a decidedly unsure glance at his Captain.

Jim was laughing and was doing absolutely nothing, nor seemed to have the presence of mind to do anything, to aid him.

The dog, meanwhile, had decided to do a sort of wiggling motion, it's whole body shaking with the force of its waggling tail.

Spock was unsure, but he thought that this dog was very pleased to see him. As for the reason, Spock had no idea. Animals and people alike were sometimes dismayed by his appearance, not encouraged by it.

Jim's unhelpfulness aside, the animal's owner arrived a few seconds later and dragged the dog away. The collar was fastened around the dog's neck again and the leash attached. Apologies were given and then the dog was taken away.

"Why, Mr Spock, I didn't know you had it in you," Jim said, mirth still visible in his eyes.

Spock tried to brush the combination of dog fur and mud off of his shirt, to no avail. He resisted the very human urge to sigh and instead focused on the tricorder for a moment to make sure that the animal's impact had not disturbed it. "I did not know that I 'had it in me', either," he said, closing the tricorder and looking back at Jim.

"You're covered in dog hair," Jim replied cheerfully, reaching forward to pick a clump of the animal's fur from Spock's shirt. "You're a mess, Mr Spock."

"Apologies, Captain. I will remedy the situation once we have returned to the ship." And have a sonic shower to dispel the odor of smelly dog while the rest of the crew begins leave.

"Yeah..." Jim chuckled and turned away. "Yeah, I think we've scouted enough."

He would say that after I have been assaulted by an unpleasant animal, Spock thought, although he simply nodded. "There appears to be no harmful life forms in this area."

"Unless you count that big dog," Jim said, catching his gaze with that same amused humor in his eyes.

"I deem it less harmful than it is... overbearing."

"Like a certain doctor we know?"

Spock raised an eyebrow yet again, although did not react otherwise.

Jim laughed and took communicator in hand. "Just don't tell him I said that," he said, thumbing his communicator open. "Kirk to Enterprise. Beam us up."

"What happened to you, Spock?" McCoy asked, eyes taking in the muddy uniform as Spock and the Captain materialized.

"He was met with a friendly dog," Jim said. "Good news, Bones. Shore leave is abound."

McCoy looked from Jim back to Spock. "Are there rabid dogs running around or something?"

"Nah, just some shaggy ones," Jim replied. "Come on, Spock. Only need to mind the store for a few more minutes. I wanna get off this ship for awhile."

"Affirmative, Captain. I will assist in preparing the leave parties."

"Actually, you know what? I can handle the parties myself, Mr Spock. You go get changed and shower."

"Captain, I am quite fit for-"

"No, I insist," Jim said. "I don't want the ship smelling of wet dog."

Jim laughed at the look he received in return. It wasn't quite emotional, as per usual for his Vulcan first officer, but it definitely had that certain amount of... sass that Spock was very capable of showing. On anyone else, it would have been an are you kidding me? look. On Spock, it was probably more of a your human jesting is not particularly humorous or some 'logical' statement as such.

"Go have a shower. I'll handle the parties and find you before I beam down."

"I request permission to stay aboard-"

"Yes, I know, but I'll let you know before I beam down. And then you can have the ship for meditation and... sleep, or, whatever you do while we have fun."

"My definition of fun-"

"-varies from mine," Jim interrupted. "Yeah, I know." He clapped his hand on Spock's arm, immediately removing it because Spock's shirt was damp. "Go on. Find you soon."

Spock inclined his head. "Indeed. Captain?"

Jim looked over his shoulder. "Mhm?"

"Do try to avoid the dogs on the surface."

Jim blinked in surprise and smiled. "Was that a joke, Mr Spock?"

"Quite contrary, Captain. I am being serious."

Jim just turned away and, still smiling, strode back for the Bridge.

Inspired by a quote from Vulcan's Forge, by Josepha Sherman & Susan Shwartz:

"The chuchaki also smelled very much like... he analyzed the aroma, compared it to the memory of an unfortunate encounter on Terra... an ancient, unwashed dog. (There, the dog had decided that it was his dearest friend and had shed fur all over him; here the chuchaki all seemed delighted to sniff at his fascinatingly different scent and try to nuzzle him. Equally odorous either way) (248).