Unwelcome Dental Advice

You, You, You Otter Know

This post has been edited to match the assignment I did for my class. This is the second draft of this story.

“Preposterous,” Olivia retorted. “I simply won’t consider it! Nope! Not for one moment!” Her cheeks were flushed and redder than a baboon’s backside.

Olivia, a chubby but adorable little brown river otter, had been press-ganged into trying an online dating service by her sister’s friend, Dora the mallard. After months and months of failed blind dates insisted upon by Dora the duck and her cackling gaggle of lady mallard friends, Olivia eventually caved in to the idea of signing up for an online service to match with someone who might have had many of the same interests. It was a far superior idea than to be shoved into an awkward situation of meeting her friend’s friends. Those blind dates never worked out. Incidentally, one of the blind dates had been with a blind, naked mole rat named Michael, something for which she’d never really forgiven Dora. The absolute gall of Dora to set her up with him. Olivia wanted to look someone in the eyes when she was out with them. The eyes were typically one’s best features. A mole, she chuffed to herself. Really?

But now, sitting in front of her computer with Dora, her sister Octavia, the hedgehog Harriet, and a half-dozen of Dora’s mallard friends, Olivia was beginning to have second thoughts. They sat around her computer in a semi-circle, lingering on every word Olivia’s mouse pointer hovered over. Monsters, she thought to herself. Feckless hooligans, the lot of them, she thought as they urged her to look at the first notification she received.

The first man to match with her – a match that came within five minutes of her profile creation being complete – was a shabby-looking North American beaver named Billy. His profile was a thing to behold, for sure. They shared all of the same interests: long swims at night, collecting wood, and home furnishing. Yet, one thing stood out to Olivia that she just couldn’t get past: diet. Beavers were notoriously vegetarian, and Olivia was an absolute carnivore. Oysters, clams, and crawdads were what she preferred. Even the idea of eating something green made her throw up in her mouth a little.

“I’m sorry, Dora,” she explained, turning to meet her friend’s disapproving glare. “I just can’t date vegetarians. It’s unnatural. I need some meat in my diet.”

Dora stood from the wooden chair she’d been sitting in, craning her neck and ruffling the green-blue feathers that covered it. With a huff, she said, “Well, there’s just no hope for you, is there, Olivia? No hope at all.”

The other girls tittered in Olivia’s office, surrounded by trinkets their friend had picked up along the years: pearls from oysters she’d shucked, the preserved pincer from the largest crawdad she’d ever seen (and eaten, and boy it was delicious!), and pieces of driftwood she’d collected that reminded her of things from her past. One piece, in particular, looked almost exactly like her mother, a singularly beautiful otter named Ophelia. After a moment of laughter, Michelle the muskrat lowered her voice.

“Be honest, Olivia. It’s because he’s a beaver. It’s the teeth, isn’t it? Or the tail. Truth be told, I dated a beaver once, and let me tell you, the tail is especially nice when you’re feeling naughty.” The girls once more gave a hearty giggle, but let their friend continue. “You’ve never been one to date outside your own kind, and the idea of dating a bucktoothed beaver just sends shivers down your spine, doesn’t it?” Michelle was known for being blunt and no-nonsense, and this affront to Olivia’s dating preferences didn’t take her as much by surprise as her friend had hoped.

“Why, Michelle! The absolute audacity of that statement. I dated a raccoon in college. I was even engaged to that squirrel, Sammy, for a short time.” Olivia had her defenses locked and loaded for just this type of retort from her friends. While much of what Michelle said was true, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

At this, Octavia glared. “Is that so? And why did you break up with Reginald the raccoon? You thought his mask made him look suspicious, like some kind of common thug! And what about poor Sammy the squirrel? He couldn’t swim. So, you left him on the beach in the middle of a family reunion. Olivia, we love you, but you’re a tad too picky and possibly a teensy bit racist.”

The statement was like a sharp stick to the ribcage. Racist? Her? It was unbelievable. Unspeakable! “W-wait! Where are you all going?”

Her friends left her hovel, single file through the front door. It wasn’t a large home as she lived here by herself. Her sister, Octavia, had inherited their parents’ home, being the older sibling, so Olivia had to make her own home out of the remains of an old rabbit hole. It was small, quaint, and had all the amenities she needed: a tiny kitchenette, a soft bed made of twigs and leaves, and an office where she could accomplish her work when she wasn’t enjoying a day out on the lake. Olivia was a writer and had published several poems in widely distributed magazines.

Dora the duck, last in the line of her friends leaving, turned and sighed. “Olivia, we wish you the best, but if you can’t get past some of these hard-headed ideas of what makes a perfect mate, then we won’t be able to help you. Don’t give up on this. I’ll call you in a few days.” Dora wrapped her brown and blue feathered wing around her friend and gave a gentle squeeze before finally passing through the beaded entrance to Olivia’s hovel and quacking after her friends to wait up.

Olivia turned and sighed. Her tummy growled, sounding like a wolf warning someone not to get too close, and she held her little mitts over it, wondering what she should hunt down for this afternoon’s snack. Perhaps her friends were right, and she thought back, wistfully, to her mother’s warnings about dating outside of the otter community.

—-

“Olivia, dear, I’m glad that you’re back out there dating after your time with Owen, but doing so with other animals is just not something I can condone. Apart from being unnatural, what if you decide to mate? What would your children look like if you mated with a crocodile, or a frog, or – heavens forbid – a snake? Abhorrent, the entire idea of it!”

“Mom…” Olivia sighed, dragging out the vowel of the title what seemed like forever. “I’m never dating a snake. But there’s this chipmunk named Chad who’s been sending me all these little notes in class. I think he’s pretty cute, and I wanna go to prom with him.”

Ophelia, who had a lovely shade of brown coat that was finally starting to show some gray, rolled her eyes and dusted the bits of broken clam shell off her blue and yellow blouse. They’d been having a midday snack when Olivia came to her with the idea that she might date someone other than an otter. Olivia went to public school and most otters here were homeschooled, so there were already slim pickings.

“You just need to wait until you’re finished with school, then focus on finding a mate. You’ll find plenty of datable otters in the lakes to the north, if you don’t want to stay here. Chipmunks are nothing but trouble, I tell you. Also, stay away from those shifty raccoons and their shady masks. They’re lazy and will always expect a handout. And steer clear of the squirrels who are always trying to horde food. I tell you these things because I know best.”

Olivia typically scoffed at these platitudes, but was her mother right? She wasn’t looking for anything long-term right now. Mostly, she was just playing the field, seeing what was available. Olivia had never given any real thought to marrying a squirrel or a chipmunk. With a sigh, she cracked open one of the clams her mother had gathered, munching on the soft flesh with a heavy heart.

—-

Thinking back on her mother’s words, she began to understand why her friends thought she might be a little racist. Her mother certainly was. The bright flash of an advertisement on the dating site broke her concentration and she went back to browsing.

“Cameron the crane,” she sighed aloud. Only a thirty-seven percent match on the site and browsing through some of his profile made her understand why. Cameron liked flying, perching above the water on a warm summer day, and eating smelt and anchovies. They were nowhere near the ocean anyway, so Cameron was out of the question.

Next up was Bradley the badger. Badgers were known to be party animals and Olivia admitted that she was fond of their black and white fur patterns. They were carnivorous but often ate mammals just smaller than herself, or birds and larger insects. Bradley didn’t seem particularly threatening, judging by his photos and self-description, but she opted to steer clear all the same. Apart from their notoriety for being party animals, they were quick to temper. Say one wrong thing and you’ll face the wrath of the badger. Honey badgers were especially violent when they’ve been drinking.

“Pass,” she said aloud, pressing the “NEXT” button on her computer.

Next on the list was Trevor, a turtle. While she’d never really considered dating a reptile, she had a special place in her heart for turtles. They were friendly almost to a fault. Most of them, especially tortoises, had fabulous stories to tell because they’d been around for decades and decades. Trevor, for a reptile, was handsome indeed. He was a box turtle with a large, domed shell that had an extravagant yellow and green pattern that almost looked geometric. Olivia wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d instantly begun looking at his photos before reading his profile. Did that make her shallow?

Immediately after looking through his photos, she regretted not having read his profile first. Olivia read the statements on the profile aloud, each new statement making her madder and madder. “Single father of thirty-five! ‘My kids are my world. If you don’t have what it takes to help me raise them, back away and let a real woman step forward. You must help me pay for weekly turtle waxing. Looking this good doesn’t come cheap. You must be fit. I live in the gym. You must have your own source of income and your own teeth.’ I say, he’s mad! This must be some kind of a joke!” she huffed.

Yet as she considered it, a ding rang out from her computer. “Another match?” she wondered aloud and sauntered over to the computer. Sure enough, there was a message icon floating in the upper right-hand corner of her MateMatch.com home screen. Olivia rolled her eyes and proceeded to click on the message icon. Billy the beaver had been an eighty percent match, but this one appeared to be a ninety-five! Olivia’s heart soared as she clicked on the message from a man named Frederick.

Frederick, she thought. Probably a frog! The idea of a night on the lake, slurping up insects and leaping from lily pad to lily pad already didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. Yet, when she clicked on the link, it took her to a profile for Frederick the fox. Her eyes widened. Preposterous! A predator. Surely, he’s in this for a chance at a quick meal! But the more she read, the more intrigued she became.

Frederick was a well-read fox, and his profile picture showed him in front of a large collection of poetry books and magazines. Olivia’s heart nearly skipped a beat when she saw one of his photos with a copy of Lakefront Quarterly magazine that had her poetry inside it displayed prominently on his end table. Frederick himself was a dapper looking fox, wearing small reading spectacles and an arrogant-looking black smoking jacket. Yet there was a charm about him that Olivia simply couldn’t deny. His red coat was wiry but well-kept, and the tip of his bushy tail had a spot of black on it that Olivia couldn’t help but think was somewhat endearing. She held her paws to her chest to make sure her heart rate was normal. As she continued to scroll through his photos, another ding came across her computer speakers. Frederick had messaged her!

Shakily, she hovered the mouse over the message, hesitant to open it. After a moment, she finally clicked the icon, one eye closed tightly while the other peeked warily at what popped up. She read his message this way for the first sentence until reaching halfway through the second and popping her eyes open in surprise. It read:

“Dear Olivia. I was pleasantly surprised to be matched with you, and ninety-five percent, no less! I’ve been an avid reader of yours ever since first seeing your works published in Frontier Poetry nearly four years ago! Your poem “Through the Eyes of the Shellfish” spoke volumes to me. I’ve memorized every single word. When I first came across your profile here, I thought it was my brother, Felix, having a go at me. He knew I was a huge fan of yours, but he assured me that this was the real deal. I felt compelled to reach out and see if there was any possibility of a connection. I absolutely understand if you’re hesitant, as we foxes don’t have a very positive reputation within the otter community, but if you ever feel like a night on the lake and a crab leg dinner, I’m more than happy to wax poetic with you! Yours truly, Frederick.”

Olivia’s heart positively soared. She wasn’t aware she had any fans of her poetry. The publishers at the magazines she submitted to always alluded to the fact that there were people out there who enjoyed her work, and she was sure that they wouldn’t continue to publish her had her work been subpar, but to actually hear the words from someone who loved her work made her heart lift so high she thought she might float to the moon! And Frederick, despite being a fox, was very handsome. Oh, what the hell, she thought to herself and opened up a message to reply.

“Dear Frederick. I was positively floored to read that you enjoy my poetry so much. My friends have been pestering me to try this dating app, and while I hadn’t given much real consideration to any of the candidates, your words were so lovely that I felt compelled to write you back as soon as I could. I would love a night on the lake and crab legs! If you’re comfortable with it, I think this Saturday would be a prime night. The moon is supposed to be huge, and the crabbing will be ideal. Yours, Olivia.”

Even clicking the “Send Message” button made her heart beat like a hummingbird’s, and she immediately picked up her phone to text Dora the news with an attachment of Frederick’s profile. Within the hour, Dora returned her message with a reply of elation, citing that she’d met Frederick and his brother Felix before and would be needing updates as the date happened. Frederick, too, had gotten back to her and showed similar excitement. Frederick agreed that Saturday would be an ideal night. With their date set in stone, Olivia swooned and searched through her belongings for something to wear. It was still three days away, but it was all she could think about. After an hour of searching and trying on dress after dress, Olivia collapsed on her leaf and twig bed, her paws over her heart, wistfully awaiting the day of her date.

—-

For three days, Olivia waited. During that time, she’d sit at her computer and pine over the pictures of Frederick. He’d posted so many on his dating profile. Perhaps it was because foxes were typically predatory, and he wanted to assure potential dates that he wasn’t that way. Among the pictures of himself were some with his brother, Felix. If it weren’t for the spot of white at the tip of Felix’s tail, Olivia might not have known that they were different foxes. Admittedly, Felix dressed a little more shabbily. Every picture with his brother showed Frederick dressed like a man taking his woman to prom, while Felix tended to wear tattered t-shirts and jeans. She felt as though she was getting the better fox in this deal. Frederick was the man of her dreams.

The two of them friend-requested each other on FriendBook, a website commonly used to keep in touch with friends and family. While she wanted nothing more than to share the news of her upcoming date with Frederick to the world at large, she reined in her expectations and kept the news off her feed. Her sister, however, noticed that they’d become FriendBook friends and left several snarky comments on her timeline. “Oooh! Who’s Frederick? Who’s Frederick?” and “Livvy and Freddy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” were some of the tamer comments left by her sister. Others were far more pornographic for her taste, and Olivia spent hours clicking and hiding each from prying eyes.

Her mother, Ophelia, was not nearly as excited about the idea of Olivia going out with Frederick. At first, she left a private message showing her disdain. “You’re old enough to make your own mistakes, but don’t ever tell anyone I didn’t warn you,” she wrote. “Foxes, no matter how dapper and well-read they may be, are all bad news. Make sure you have an escape plan should things seem like they’re going to turn south on you.” Olivia knew that her mother was simply trying to protect her, but Frederick displayed no red flags to her, and she muted the conversation with her mother which resulted in Ophelia removing her from her FriendBook friend list.

“Now who’s being a child?” she asked herself.

Over the three grueling days of waiting, Olivia and Frederick had been in constant communication, even exchanging telephone numbers with one another, something that Olivia was reticent to do. Mostly they texted, but the evening before their date night, Olivia gathered up the courage to allow a single phone call that lasted well into the early hours of the morning of their date night. Frederick’s voice was like silk. He was so eloquent and descriptive that it almost made her want to collaborate with him for a sonnet she’d been working on. It was as though he always knew what to say and what tone to say it in. Olivia clung to every word like an oyster’s foot clung to its shell.

They exchanged stories of growing up near the lake and traveling with family to other lakes, only to return to their roots and home to settle down. Frederick explained that he was a struggling author, hoping to eventually get published, but that the current market was difficult to break into. It was a sentiment that Olivia understood. Her poetry never made it past small market magazines, and she hoped to one day publish a full-length book of all of her poetry, a collection of her works, for the masses to read. Frederick’s works were far more cerebral than her own. His stories were based in fiction, incredible stories about bipedal creatures, with almost no fur to speak of, crafting vessels to take them into the stars above. Science fiction, he called it. What Frederick wrote was beyond what her imagination could conjure, and instead of relying on metaphor or imagery, alternatively required one to think outside of the boundaries of reality. It was a strange prospect, but something Olivia found herself appreciating. The man had some truly fantastic ideas.

One of the stories he’d shared with her was about a mixed group of animals – moles, kangaroos, an elephant, and a horse – who lived in a vessel out in the vastness of the star ocean he called “space.” These animals were miners and they’d stumbled upon a distress call from a nearby world as they were making their way home. When they’d finally reached the location of the distress call, one of their number, the elephant – was ambushed by a creature from some sort of egg pod. The creature had laid its embryo inside of the elephant, which later erupted from his chest in a splatter of gore. The rest of the story was about the animals hunting down this monster, which Frederick called a “Sapien,” and how the company who had hired them wanted the monster brought back for research. It was a truly fascinating idea for a story, even if it was a bit on the gory side.

“I apologize if some of my ideas are shocking,” he purred into her ear like a lynx. “My style of writing is meant to evoke horror and wonder, and sparing any detail would leave too many questions unanswered,” he assured her.

Olivia blushed, knowing full well that Frederick couldn’t see her. It was embarrassing that such language could make her feel this way. “It’s quite all right,” she said. “Our styles are vastly different, but it doesn’t make your writing any less interesting. I’d very much like to read one of your stories.”

“How about this one?” he asked. “It’s a story about a distant future. Animals have begun a war with sentient robots. These robots have discovered a way to make living flesh that covers their bodies to infiltrate the last bastions of civilization in an effort to wipe them out. The resistance mounts a final, desperate attack against the machines and wins the war, but not before a single robot is sent back in time to murder Sara the squirrel, mother to the leader of their vaunted resistance.”

The idea was so good it was ludicrous. Sentient machines, time travel, and futuristic wars? While this wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, there was definitely something to it. “What if the resistance was able to send a hero of their own back in time to help Sara the squirrel?” Olivia asked.

Frederick paused to consider it. “Why, that’s brilliant! It would give Sara the fighting chance she’d need to stop the murderous robot. I hadn’t even considered it. Olivia, you are truly a special person. I could use your kind of thoughtfulness in crafting my stories.”

“Oh, Frederick, I simply cannot wait for tonight. You’ll have to pinch me when we meet, because I’m having difficulty believing any of this is real!” she swooned.

—-

That night, Olivia had decided upon a cute little summer dress that covered most of her body that night. The dress had a floral pattern, green with white and pink flowers. It was a piece she hadn’t worn in ages and was covered in dust when she pulled it out of the armoire. Blowing the dust off the dress reminded her of those old, hand-drawn maps where, in the corner, there would be a picture of a sun blowing upon the ocean. Frederick’s eyes grew large at the sight of her, and she took note that he placed his paw over his heart when he gasped. Frederick had been wearing a delightful black dinner jacket over a patterned vest, a bright red pocket square poked out on his left breast. He walked with an elegance born of high society such that it almost made Olivia feel out of place.

The beach she’d chosen was quiet and deserted, perfect for an even jaunt with what could be her new paramour. Off in the distance, a flock of geese could be heard, honking their song of direction for flight pattern, like a drill sergeant honking orders at his platoon. It conjured images of one of Olivia’s first poems, “On These Sandy Shores,” where she described a similar night through the eyes of a swan that honked at passersby who disrupted her sleep. The sudden thought made her wonder if Frederick had read that one. It had been published in the local newspaper, not a magazine like much of her other work, but if the man was truly a fan, he would certainly have already read it.

The two frolicked down the coast night, digging for crabs whenever they saw the bubbles coming up out of the sand. Together they crunched happily on the armored legs of their prey, cracking open the boney exterior and gobbling down the succulent meat with grins on their faces. At one point, Frederick got down on one knee and recited her poem “Devilish Clams” verbatim. It was an impressive feat to have a forty-four-line poem from five years ago memorized, and it made Olivia feel as though she’d been walking on the moon.

The moonlight above reflected off the slow-moving waves coming ashore, and there was something about the setting that tugged at Olivia’s heart. It was the single most romantic experience she’d ever had, and she couldn’t believe she was having it with a fox. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends, even though she knew they would be nearby, watching.

“Shall we go for a swim?” she asked, blushing slightly. Something about being with Frederick opened up a devilish side to herself that she didn’t know existed until this very moment. Her sister would be proud.

A look of concern covered Frederick’s face, wrinkling his nose as though he’d eaten something sour. “I wouldn’t think you’d be comfortable with that,” he said hesitantly.

Olivia looked up at him sweetly, her eyes wide like a cat at night. “Frederick, I’ve been comfortable with the idea since that first day you talked to me.”

Across the lake, Dora and her entourage watched their friend carefully, spying from the safety of a small cantina. Dora knew Frederick and his brother Felix, but that didn’t mean there was no cause for concern. Olivia was a sweet girl, but a little naïve when it came to matters of the heart. Despite her hesitation in most dating situations, Dora knew that her friend fell fast and hard for most men she came across that gave her the time of day. A handsome grin or reading poetry was all it took in some cases.

“Oh, my!” Milly the muskrat cried out, nearly spilling the gin and tonic that she’d just ordered. “I think they’re going to go skinny dipping!”

Dora rolled her eyes and quacked. “Oh, please. Not Olivia. Not on the first date.”

Yet her disbelief came to a halt when she squinted and saw that Milly had been correct. They watched as her friend peeled off the adorable little summer dress she’d been wearing and began to wade into the cool water of the lake. The girls tittered and gasped, watching Frederick remove his fancy coat, revealing his beautiful red fur. The man was handsome, they gave him that. Eventually, they both swam into the lake and playfully danced around each other, diving down and picking out clams for dessert.

Dora took a long sip of her martini, extra dirty with three olives, and watched her friend like a hawk. Things seemed to be going well enough. The two of them had begun to swim back to the shore, Olivia playfully kicking water at the less skilled swimmer in her wake. When she made it ashore, she began to crack open their dessert clams and held out her paw to offer one up to Frederick. But Dora had a nagging sensation. Something caught her eye when Frederick resurfaced the last time. When it came to her, her eyes went wide.

“His tail!” she exclaimed. “It has a white tip!” Squinting, she could see oily black paint on the surface of the water where the fox had been swimming, leaving a rainbow-like sheen.

“So?” called out Wylla the weasel. “It’s cute!”

“But Frederick has a black tipped tail!”

“Felix…” Dora whispered.

Olivia’s friends watched the scene unfold in horror. It was as though everything moved in slow-motion, yet so quickly that they’d never have time to react, or even get out a warning honk to their beloved friend.

It was over in an instant. Felix sneered and pounced on the unsuspecting otter with devastating efficacy, a skill born of trickery and years of practice. The look on Olivia’s face turned from sweet splendor to confused terror in the blink of an eye. The poor girl didn’t even have time to utter a retort to the violent advance, not even a breath to scream. Their dear friend had been taken for a fool, all at their behest. She’d let someone into her heart long enough to become his next victim.

Olivia had been right all along. No matter how much guff they gave her for refusing to date outside of the otter community, it was a date with a sly fox that would be her end. With a smile, Felix looked across the lake to Olivia’s friends and gulped down a bit of her right leg, gave them a curt nod, and trotted off into the nearby woods with the rest of his prey.