Diamond In The Rough: Chapter Five

Roman has always wanted better. Has always believed that there’s a better life, a better world, just out of reach. Just beyond the veil of shitty teachers who don’t care, angry classmates that scream insults and slurs at each other all day, and drug-hazed parents who are more concerned with their next hit than looking after their ten year old son.

When he runs away after a particularly bad night at home and finds a quiet little cafe/bookstore tucked away in a back alley of the city, the sweet couple who run the joint (an odd pair; a quiet, gloomy man with a wry sense of humour and a cynical gleam in his eye, and a bouncy man who smiles like sunshine and laughs like a storybook king) help show him that maybe- just maybe- he really can have the life he always dreamed of.

Masterpost (to be added soon!)

Word Count: 2927

Chapter Warnings: Fake names, panic, runaway kid, brief mention of parent neglect, foster care mention

Afternoons began to settle into a comfortable routine. Peter would climb the stairs to the cafe, pick out a book, curl up on a couch on the edge of the dining area, and wait, picking at the frayed hems of his jeans. Patton would eventually come over, mugs of cocoa and a plate of cookies in hand, and would start to read, leaving the afternoon’s lazy trickle of customers to Virgil.

This afternoon, however, as the sun began to dip lower, and closing time approached, Patton paused before turning the page. “Hey, Peter, sweetie, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?” Peter looked up at Patton, his eyes wide and round and trusting, and gods, they broke his heart a little.

Patton gazed down at him, brushing straggly hair back from his face. “Honey, do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Peter replied, a little too quickly for Patton to be convinced.

“Somewhere safe and warm? Inside? With your parents?” Patton pressed on.

Peter pulled away from him, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah! With my mom and dad, they have a- they have a house and stuff!” He insisted.

Patton studied him, his arms wrapped around himself, the hunched shoulders. Those wide eyes, now full of doubt and fear. His chest squeezed painfully as Peter shuffled away, putting a small amount of distance between them. Breathe. Calm down. You’re going to spook him even more, he reminded himself.

“Are you sure about that?” Patton asked softly. “It’s okay if the answer is no, I just want to help you.”

“I... I...” Peter stammered, his hands balling up into fists. His shoulders trembled as he curled in on himself tighter.

Patton reached out towards him, offering a comforting smile. “Peter, are you oka-”

“Don’t!” Peter ducked away from him with a yelp, pushing himself to his feet and sprinting towards the stairs, his tattered sneakers screeching against the smooth wooden floor. In the blink of an eye, he had vanished down the stairwell, the front door slamming shut behind him.

Virgil looked up from the register at the sudden commotion, and Patton saw him mouthing curses as he vaulted over the counter, ripping off his apron and throwing it towards Patton. “I’ll be right back!” He yelled over his shoulder, and then he was gone, too.

Patton leaped up and snatched the apron out of the air, clutching it close to his chest, staring after them as he blinked back the tears pricking at his eyes. He really, really hoped he hadn’t just ruined everything.

Meanwhile, Virgil weaved through groups of people out on the street, searching the crowds for Peter’s messy hair and red jacket. Come on, kid. You can’t have got that far. He turned down one street, then another, his gaze raking over passing people. Past the hotel, along the bike path, around the library.

Damn it.

“Excuse me, have you seen a little boy? About this tall, red jacket, beat-up backpack?”

Nope.

“Hey, have you seen a kid come through here? Kind of looks like Pig-Pen from the Peanuts?”

No luck.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, I’m looking for a boy? Messy hair, grubby face, big green eyes?”

Nothing.

Virgil flopped down onto a park bench, out of breath. His phone buzzed insistently, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see a message from Patton.

Pat <3 [5:23pm]: Heya <333 Any luck? Cutie Pie [5:23pm]: nothing yet. still looking tho Pat <3 [5:24pm]: Okay. Stay safe. I love you! Cutie Pie [5:24pm]: will do xo

Virgil sucked in a deep breath, sticking his phone back in his pocket and rubbing his temples. He had to think. Where would a scared kid go, if they didn’t have somewhere safe to go? Where would a kid hide?

He should be able to figure this out, damn it! He was always the one who ran and hid- ducking under tables, slipping into closets, climbing up trees, squeezing between cars. He was an expert at hiding spots when he was a kid.

Then again, it had always been his dad or Patton who excelled at the finding part. Time after time, Virgil would sit there, waiting for them to rescue him, curled into a ball, his breathing shallow as panic clawed at his chest, squeezing his throat tight until he couldn’t breathe-

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold it for seven seconds. Breathe out for eight seconds. Keep it together.

“If I was a kid, all alone, out in the cold, with the sun setting, where would I hide?” He asked himself aloud.

Alone? Probably somewhere he could keep an eye on who came and went.

Cold? Somewhere protected from snow and wind and rain.

Virgil started walking again, chewing on his bottom lip as he made his way along the path. Streetlamps cast a sickly yellow glow over the park, the shadows dancing as the trees waved in the wind. He had to be missing something. He just had to think.

The path curved around to the left and Virgil followed it. His thoughts felt heavy and thick, like smoke clogging up his brain. Where else could the kid even be?

A metallic creak nearby pulled him from his thoughts. He stepped off the path, ducking through a grove of trees and following the noise. It was darker over here, away from the lights illuminating the walkway, and it took a few seconds for his to adjust.

The old playground. Virgil remembered coming here when he was younger. Perched at the top with Patton, their legs swinging over the edge as they watched people pass by. It didn't get much use nowadays- the city council had built a shiny new playground with colourful metal frames and fancy soft fall rubber flooring.

What was wrong with regular old wood chips? He shook his head. People were so concerned with their kids getting so much as a scratch these days. What was childhood, if not the ultimate opportunity for skinned knees and bumps on the head?

The creak pierced through the air again as the ancient swingset moved in the wind. He moved over to it, examining the tarnished metal links. Somewhere along one of these chains, he'd scratched his and Patton's initials. They were littered all over this playground, really. Scratched onto plastic, carved into wooden beams.

Virgil shook his head. Now isn't the time for a trip down memory lane, he scolded himself. You can bring Patton down here and have a picnic sometime, but you have a mission rig-

A faint sound made his head snap up towards the play equipment. It almost sounded like... a sniffle?

He slowly approached the old playground, following the sound. Please don't be a raccoon, please don't be a raccoon, he begged silently as he bobbed down and peered into the plastic tunnel.

"Go away!" Virgil jerked back, startled by the sudden shriek. "Leave me alone!"

Well, that answered that question.

He settled down onto the ground, a foot or so back from the opening of the tunnel. "Pete, it's me," He said softly.

There was a heavy silence for a few seconds, followed by rustling, and Peter poked his head out of the shadows, eyeing Virgil suspiciously. "... Hi."

"Hey, kid," Virgil replied casually, leaning back on his hands. "Cozy in there?"

Peter shrugged. "I guess. I have a blanket."

"Niiiice. Doesn't sound as luxurious as Patton's reading nook, though."

"Nah. That's, like... a blanket palace."

Virgil chuckled at the dreamy look in Peter's eyes. "It sure is."

Peter flashed him a small, hesitant smile. "I really like your cafe. It's really, really nice."

"Thanks. We've tried really hard to make it nice, so I'm really glad to hear." He shifted, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees. "Mind if I ask why you ditched us in such a hurry?"

Peter shrank back, suddenly looking... almost frightened? Virgil's heart panged at the boy's crossed arms and hunched stance.

"Look, I promise I'm not mad, and you're not in trouble or anything. Me and Patton are just..." Virgil paused, searching for the right word. "... We're worried about you, kid. We wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why." Peter's voice was flat.

"Because... because we care about you? You're a good kid? Why wouldn't we?" Virgil asked, baffled by the complete lack of emotion in the usually animated child.

"... Really?" Peter blinked, his eyebrows drawn together as he studied Virgil.

"Y... yeah," Virgil affirmed softly.

"Are all the adults around here as nice as you guys?" He shuffled a little closer to the opening of the pipe.

Well, that was telling. "I mean, to be honest? Not all of 'em. But I know some good people." He paused, biting his lip before continuing. "Are your folks not... so nice?"

"They're... okay. They don't really talk to me much."

"I see." Virgil did not, in fact, see.

Peter ducked his head, curling back in on himself. “Sorry. I don’t... it’s okay, I promise.”

Virgil’s chest tightened at Peter’s hunched shoulders. “You know, kid... it’s okay for things to be, you know... not okay.” He reached out, gently touching his arm.

Peter looked up, his wide eyes shining in the darkness. “I...” He trailed off, staring at Virgil.

“Look, it’s pretty cold and nasty out here, and I personally wanna head back to meet up with my husband and go home and have dinner and watch movies.” Virgil smiled. “And if you wanna tag along, you’re totally welcome to, kid.”

Peter moved forwards again, emerging from the tube. He threw himself at Virgil, wrapping his arms around his chest, knocking the slim man onto his back. Virgil let out a grunt as he caught the child, squeezing him a little. “I got you, bud. I got you.”

He let go after a moment, and Virgil released him. The two of them clambered to their feet, exchanged a nod, and then began walking back in the direction of the cafe.

Virgil didn’t pull away when Peter’s small hand took hold of his, tightly gripping onto him like a lifeline. They made their way along the path, hands swinging gently between them. The silence was somewhere between comfortable and suffocating, and Virgil cursed his inability to read social situations. He wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, but this- the protective urge boiling in his blood, the warmth of Peter’s hand in his- it felt right.

He cleared his throat, glancing up towards the stars. “Hey, do you know any of the constellations, kid?”

Peter looked up at him curiously. “No? That’s, like... stars and stuff, right? And, like... star signs and junk?”

“Yeah, stuff like that. What’s yours?”

“Um... my birthday is in June. June 4th.”

Virgil clicked his tongue as he thought. “I’m pretty sure that’s, like... right in the middle of Gemini. Neat.” He squeezed Peter’s hand gently. “Mine’s Sagittarius- birthday’s in late December.”

Peter wrinkled his nose. “There was a girl in my classes whose birthday is the 28th. She said it sucked, because she only got one set of presents.”

Virgil chuckled. “It’s not so bad. Patton always makes a cake, and we hang out and eat snacks, and that’s more than enough for me.”

Peter nodded, then looked back up towards the sky. “... What other constellations are there up there?” He asked.

Virgil followed his gaze, searching the stars for a shape he recognized. “Uh... oh, right there. Dorado. See it? It’s like a dolphin.” He raised their joined hands to point up at the cluster of stars.

Peter squinted at the sky, then brightened. “Oh, yeah! I can see the tail and body and everything!” He exclaimed.

Virgil grinned and ruffled his hair. “Hell yeah. Great job, Pete!”

The boy hesitated at the praise, his steps faltering to a halt. “Um...” He pulled his hand free, rubbing his free arm nervously.

“What’s up, kid?” Virgil bobbed down to him, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

“Um, well, the thing is...” He hesitated, closing his eyes before spitting out in a rush, “My name isn’t actually Peter, I panicked, I’m sorry, my name’s Roman, I’m sorry for lying-!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Virgil held up his hands, eyes wide. “Breathe, princey! Calm down time.” He raised his hand, wanting to draw him into a hug, but knowing all too well how distressing contact could be when one didn’t feel up to it. Neither of them moved for a tense few seconds, and he cleared his throat, letting his hand drop to his side again. “Roman, huh? That’s a pretty cool name. It suits you.”

Roman(?) slowly opened his eyes, peeking up at Virgil from behind his scraggly fringe. “... You’re not mad?” He asked, his voice soft and hesitant in a way that broke Virgil’s heart all over again.

“I promise. Little surprised, maybe, but...” Virgil shook his head. “Not mad. People can be scary. I understand, bud.” He chuckled. “I remember when I was a kid, my teacher thought my name was Oliver for, like, three weeks, because I was too nervous to correct her.”

Roman stared at Virgil, then slowly nodded. “...Okay. Okay.” He reached out, taking Virgil’s hand again.

Virgil gently squeezed his hand as he got back to his feet. “Let’s head home, huh?”

Roman nodded again. “Yeah,” He murmured, a small, shy smile creeping onto his face.

Virgil liked this kid’s smile.

It didn’t take long for them to get back to the cafe. Virgil held open the door for Roman as he scuffed his tattered sneakers clean on the mat, then followed him up the stairs. Roman paused at the top, peering around the banister anxiously.

Virgil followed his gaze to see Patton wiping down an already-clean table, a vacant, worried look on his face as he reset the centerpiece and menus. A quick glance around the cafe confirmed his suspicion that Patton had been stress-cleaning. Books were shuffled around on the shelves, one set of shelves organized by colour, another by height, a third by genre.

“Hey, hon,” He called out, staying with Roman, resting his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder.

Patton jerked at the sound of his voice, whirling around and lighting up as he spotted them. “You’re back!” He flung himself towards Roman, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “Oh, goodness, I was so worried, I thought you’d get hurt, or lost, or-or... I don’t even know! I’m so glad you’re safe, Peter!” He rambled.

Roman squirmed back in his arms, and Patton immediately released him. “Um, R-Roman,” He stammered, clearly a bit overwhelmed by Patton’s response to seeing him.

Patton paused for a beat, blinked, then nodded, the sunshine-bright smile returning to his face. “I’m so happy to see you, Ro- is it okay if I call you Ro? Excellent name, by the way! Sounds like a Prince Charming- ooh, or a brave knight! Don’t you think, Virgil?” As he spoke, he practically dragged Roman and Virgil over to one of the couches, settling them down and throwing a blanket over their legs.

Virgil laughed, catching Patton’s nervous hands as he smoothed out wrinkles in the blanket. “Pat, hon, breathe. It’s okay. I’m fine, Roman’s safe. Come here.” He gently tugged Patton to sit down next to him, putting an arm around his waist and kissing his cheek. “Everybody’s alright.”

Patton blushed, curling up and resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “Right, right. Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away,” He giggled awkwardly.

Roman cleared his throat, and Virgil turned his head to look at him. His small hands were clutching fistfuls of the blanket as he spoke, his voice a little shaky. “So... so what happens now? You guys aren’t going to make me go back home, are you?”

Virgil chewed on the inside of his cheek. Of course they didn’t want to send Roman back home if it wasn’t a healthy environment, but what other options did they have? Call the police? Was there a hotline for homeless children? He wrinkled his nose, reflecting on his own experience with the foster care system. That definitely didn’t appeal, either, but there was only so much they could do. It wasn’t like they could just keep him like a stray cat.

“Of course not! You can stay with us as long as you like!” Patton exclaimed. “We’ve got a spare bedroom, and I’m sure we can find some clothes that’ll fit you. That way you’ll have somewhere warm and cozy and nice to stay while we figure things out!”

... Or, they could take in the random runaway child. A small, selfish part of Virgil chimed in agreement with Patton. Roman was a good kid, from what they’d seen. Besides, it wasn’t like they were kidnapping him. Just giving him somewhere to sleep for now; a stable and positive environment during this whole debacle. It couldn’t hurt, riiight?

Roman’s eyes widened. “Rea-really? I can just... stay with you guys?” And with the soft hope shining on his face, there went Virgil’s strength of will for the night.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can’t see a problem with him staying here for now, at least.” Virgil reached over and tousled Roman’s hair. “How about we get home, get some sleep, and then we can look into what to do in the morning?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Patton chirped.

Roman cuddled up to Virgil, wrapping his arms around him and clinging tightly. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” He exclaimed, a bright, crooked-toothed smile lighting up his face.

character study or smth idk

ft. Lone Wanderer Peter, Dogmeat, and random OC Tracey “Dodo” Nguyen 

wanted to step back into writing and i want to eventually do a probably not lore friendly full fic with all my fallout oc’s but lets just be real with ourselves here

if nothing else, here’s this

Running errands for Moira’s survival guide had so far only proven to Peter that radiation poisoning was a bitch and Super Duper Marts housed more raiders than it did food. He couldn’t complain about the last one too hard. He’d gotten a sick new set of armor and a rifle, in decent condition, out of it, as well as enough liquor to feed his bender for the week. More importantly he’d found two whole boxes of pristine rubber bands, and nothing said boredom in his Megaton home like making the largest rubber band ball he could. “Nervous energy,” is what his father would mutter under his breath when Peter would take to tasks like this. Peter wasn’t sure he was nervous. He didn’t feel nervous. Mostly he did these things because it was a simple start-to-finish task. Wrap one band around the other until, ta-da! a complete bouncy ball that he could throw against the floor, ricochet off the wall and catch to throw again. Rinse, repeat.

Dogmeat eyed the toy from across the room, tail wagging its interest. Maybe he’d take him out tomorrow and play fetch. Too late now, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving nothing illuminating the town but the sparse lights of the residing townspeople, and the glow of Moriarty’s saloon.

Peter threw the ball against the wall, hard enough to make Dodo flinch.

“Hey man, like, I get it, but can you...?” Dodo said, gesturing to whatever he was tinkering with, splayed out on the corner desk. Peter just shrugged and went back to bouncing.

He’d told Dodo that he’d give Moriarty those 100 caps when he was dead, but that wasn’t entirely true. The only inheritance Moriarty was getting upon his death was a dilapidated latrine Peter had found in the ruins of a house outside of Megaton. Wrote it in his will and everything. Moriarty had to retrieve it himself, though. His will specified.

He was thorough that way.

Mid-throw, and Dogmeat had had enough watching. He lunged, snapping up the rubber band ball as Peter dove to catch it before he could, only succeeding in falling flat on his face as Dogmeat pranced away with his kill. 

“Ha! For someone so perceptive, I can’t believe you didn’t see that coming,” Dodo laughed, apparently done enough with his tinkering that he was free to talk shit. Peter sat up and straightened his back against the wall he’d been leaning on.

“Just honing Dogmeat’s hunting skills,” he deadpan muttered, eyeing the mutt as his teeth dug into the precious rubber.

“Well, if we come into contact with vicious rubber trees, I’m sure we’ll be safe,” Dodo said.

“Man, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“Rubber? It comes from trees.”

“No, it came from a super market.”

“No, I mean originally,” Dodo huffed. Peter furrowed his brow, looking at the other boy through his nose.

“Is this a dodo thing?” he asked. Dodo sighed. 

“Yes, Peter,” he said. Peter nodded. Dodo’s dad was into a lot of pre-war history. Had lots of old, mostly intact books and hand-written interviews with pre-war ghouls about things even before nuclear bombs had even been thought of. Mundane stuff, mostly. How old things were made, animals from back then, and even older.

Dodo’s name was actually Tracey. Tracey Nguyen. Told Peter when they met that his brother had read one of their dad’s old books and taken to calling him Dodo, after some pre-war bird and it’d stuck.

”Said it was ‘cause I was too dumb to live,” Dodo had said. Peter didn’t get it, both because he didn’t know what that had to do with a bird, and also Dodo wasn’t dumb in the least. Still, it was what Dodo had introduced himself as, so he’d gone with it. He forgot sometimes that Dodo was Tracey and not Dodo. He also didn’t know how you got rubber bands from a tree. Was the whole tree rubber? He imagined cutting one down and popping out each ring into a band. The thought made him laugh, and Dodo didn’t look up from his task to question

That would be silly, Peter thought. The bands wouldn’t be uniform that way.

Dogmeat had mostly chewed through the ball, and Peter only moved from his spot to make sure he didn’t swallow the rubber. He didn’t want a repeat of the other day when the dumb animal had eaten his sock in its entirety and had to have assistance passing it.

He wished, not for the first time since coming here. that this life could be enough for him. Dodo doing whatever it was that Dodo did, Dogmeat slobbering on anything he could fit his mouth around, and Wadsworth tutting and whirring around the cramped space. Other wastelanders made do with less.

But Dad was gone. He was gone and he didn’t care about what happened to his son. Didn’t know about the blood on his hands. In his darker moments, Peter got a sick thrill out of the idea of what it’d be like to see his father’s face when he told him that. Killed two security guards on my way out, and that was just the first 24 hours, daddy. In truth, he wasn’t proud of that, and in reality, he wanted nothing more than to dissolve crying into his dad’s arms and for once since he left the vault, feel safe. But his anger-fueled day-dream-dads didn’t need to know that. He had a continuous list in his mind that ran a length of strike-outs for what he needed to do:

Go to bed.

Wake up.

Try to find a way into Moriarty’s terminal.

Find Dad

Fuck up Dad’s shit.

Help Dad?

Punch Dad.

Hug Dad and beg for forgiveness.

Punch Dad and make him beg for his forgiveness.

Forgive Dad and leave him to rot on his own.

Forget but don’t forgive. Long range weapons are good for quiet revenge.

You’re being dramatic Peter.

Fuck it all, Peter thought. Step one first.

He climbed the stairs. 

He went to bed.

Being Alone, Andrew Bogut, and Animals: picture perrect say cheese @manhattan acc waiting 4 LOVE PLAY GROUP GREETER DOG Coca Cola Good looking, social, sweet, housetrained, lived in harmony with a small child &3 other dogs - Rocked his behavior evaluation **** TO BE KILLED - 9/18/2018 **** PLAY GROUP GREETER DOG, COCA COLA, HAS EARNED THE RIGHT TO BE SITTING PRETTY IN A LOVING NEW HOME, NOT SITTING ON DEATH ROW WAITING TO DIE. :'( Please help share this winner for a second chance. A Volunteer Says: This Gentle Giant was a pleasure to walk! We passed several other dogs that he showed polite interest in but kept on his way. On our walk through the park, we took a break and I sat on a bench. He immediately came over to me for the mandatory butt scratch, and although it is not encouraged...dare I say it...he gave me several affectionate kisses! He is attentive and a good walker. His one objection was going back in his kennel at the shelter, but who could blame him! He'll feel much more comfortable in his new home....maybe Yours! COCA COLA@MANHATTAN ACC Hello, my name is Coca Cola My animal id is #41327 I am a male white dog at the Manhattan Animal Care Center The shelter thinks I am about 6 years old, 75 lbs Came into shelter as owner surrender Sept. 12, 2018 Reason Stated: MOVING - No Pets Allowed Coca Cola is at risk due to medical condition. He has been diagnosed with Canine Infectious Respiratory Disease Complex, which is contagious to other dogs. He would be suitable for any adopter prepared to manage his care for recovery which will likely just be a course of antibiotics. My medical notes are... Weight: 75.8 lbs Vet Notes L V T Notes 13/09/2018 [DVM Intake] DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 6 Microchip noted on Intake? n Microchip Number (If Applicable): n History : OS Subjective: BARH Observed Behavior - hesitant, timid Evidence of Cruelty seen - n Evidence of Trauma seen - n Objective T = - P = wnl R = wnl BCS5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears waxy yellow debris/pruritus, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: mild calculus on canines PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: INTACT MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: externally normal Assessment - Grade 3/6 Heart Murmur - Mild Otitis Externa Prognosis: Good Plan Cleaned ears Momentamax AU SID for 7 days Permanent waiver due to a HM 16/09/2018 Hx: Vomited on 9/15 and today S: At front of kennel, barking and wagging tail O: Mild serous nasal discharge A: CIRDC likely P: Move to isolation -Doxycycline 325 mg PO SID x14 days -Enrofloxacin 136 mg tabs, 2.5 tabs PO SID x14 days -Cerenia 60 mg PO SID x4 days 1088 Details on my behavior are... Behavior Condition: 2. Blue Behavior History Behavior Assessment Coke took treats from hand and sniffed me. Coke pulls hard on leash, will not follow on leash, and became stiff bodied when it was time to walk him to his kennel. Owner had to walk with Coke, into the dog area and also had to focus him to sit down for a photo. Date of Intake: 9/12/2018 Basic Information:: Coke is a large mixed breed 6 year old male, unaltered. Owner had Coke since he was a 3 week old puppy. Owner needed to surrender because he is moving upstate where they do not allow pets in the home. Coke has callous on his back legs. Owner stated that was due to an allergic reaction caused by bleach. The owner purchased ointment for his skin irritation but has not received recent vet care. Previously lived with:: 1 Adult 3 dogs 1 Child How is this dog around strangers?: Coke is friendly/outgoing with strangers. Owner stated Coke loves women and will allow women to pet and greet him. How is this dog around children?: Coke lived/spent time with a 4 year old child. Coke is friendly and allows to be petted. How is this dog around other dogs?: Coke lived/spent time with three dogs. One out of the three dogs was a large mixed breed and the other two were small mixed breed. The large mixed breed is 6 years old and the other two dogs were 4 and 5 years old. Coke and the other dogs played together with respect. How is this dog around cats?: No cats in previous home. Resource guarding:: Coke is not bothered when owner touches food bowl while eating. He is also not bothered when owner takes away bones, toys or treats. Bite history:: Coke did not bite or scratch a person or animal in previous home. Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: Medium, alert Other Notes:: Coke loves baths and loves playing in water. Coke is not bothered when owner grooms him or touches his feet. Coke also enjoys water bottles. Coke is more relaxed when given a plastic water bottle to chew on. Coke is also very alert and becomes this way when his owner says "watch it". Coke is more focused on his surroundings and will protect his owner if needed. Has this dog ever had any medical issues?: Yes Medical Notes: Coke has callous on his back legs. Owner stated that was due to an allergic reaction caused by bleach. The owner purchased ointment for his skin irritation but has not received recent vet care. For a New Family to Know: Coke is friendly, affectionate and playful. Coke is alert and has a medium energy level. Coke is more relaxed when given a plastic water bottle to chew on. Coke is also very alert and becomes this way when his owner says "watch it". Coke is more focused on his surroundings and will protect his owner if needed. Coke also likes basketballs or balls made from rubber. Coke is an indoor dog and is house trained. Coke is trained to use the bathroom outside and rarely has accidents. Coke was fed Pedigree dry food only, twice a day. Coke is well behaved when he is alone and will sleep most of the time. Coke knows commands such as sit, come, down, stay and still learning paw. Owner took Coke out for long slow walks and Coke will pull on the leash very hard. If Coke is ever taken off the leash, Coke will remain by owners side. Date of intake:: 9/12/2018 Spay/Neuter status:: No Means of surrender (length of time in previous home):: Owner Surrender (In home for 6 years) Previously lived with:: An adult, and a child (age 4), and 3 dogs Behavior toward strangers:: Friendly and outgoing Behavior toward children:: Friendly Behavior toward dogs:: Playful and respectful Resource guarding:: None reported Bite history:: None reported Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: Coca Cola is described as friendly, affectionate, and playful with a medium level of activity. Date of assessment:: 9/13/2018 Look:: 1. Dog's eyes are averted, ears are back, tail is down, relaxed body posture. Dog allows head to be held loosely in Assessor's cupped hands. Sensitivity:: 1. Dog stands still and accepts the touch, eyes are averted, and tail is in neutral position with a relaxed body posture. Dog's mouth is likely closed for at least a portion of the assessment item. Tag:: 1. Dog follows at the end of the leash, body soft. Paw squeeze 1:: 1. Dog does not respond at all for three seconds. Eyes are averted and ears are relaxed or back. Paw squeeze 2:: 1. Dog does not respond at all for three seconds. Eyes are averted and ears are relaxed or back. Flank squeeze 1:: Item not conducted Flank squeeze 2:: Item not conducted Toy:: 1. Minimal interest in toy, dog may smell or lick, then turns away. Summary:: Coca Cola approached the assessor with a soft body. He was social during the assessment, allowed all handling, and displayed no concerning behaviors. Summary:: *PLAY GROUP GREETER DOG* The previous owner of Coca Cola reports that he is "playful and respectful" around other dogs. Coca Cola has displayed social, appropriate behavior when introduced to male and female dogs in the care center, and has engaged in appropriate play. Summary (1):: 9/13: When introduced off leash to the female greeter dog, Coca Cola initially ignores approach. He eventually follows and sniffs. Summary (2):: 9/14: Coca Cola offers a brief sniff to the helper dog and wanders the pen. Summary (3):: 9/15-16: Coca Cola engages in some soft bouncy play with male and female dogs. He is soft and social with all dogs. Date of intake:: 9/12/2018 Summary:: Tense, would not walk on leash Date of initial:: 9/13/2018 Summary:: Timid, hesitant ENERGY LEVEL:: Coca Cola is described as having a medium level of activity. IN SHELTER OBSERVATIONS:: Though he presents to be a challenge when returning him to his kennel, Coca Cola remains calm and social with handlers outside of his kennel. He will engage with his care takers, taking treats and soliciting attention. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: AVERAGE (suitable for an adopter with an average amount of dog experience) Behavior Asilomar: H - Healthy * TO FOSTER OR ADOPT * If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process *within 48 hours of reserve*, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications. Shelter contact information Phone number (212) 788-4000 Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309 Available Animals Thank you for your interest in adopting from Animal Care Centers of NYC. Our At Risk List is posted each day (except Saturday) at 6:00PM and remains viewable until 12:00PM noon the following day. newhope.shelterbuddy.com