February. The armpit of the year, as some would say. The only upside about it is that it lasts only twenty-eight days so it's over soon, as some would say. One of those dreary, sluggish, monotone in-between months where everything sucked; the weather was the worst, the temperatures were the worst, going out was the worst because the world looked its worst. Even Valentine's Day was not an advantage, as it was one of the most contested holidays; many people loved it, just as many if not more people hated it, calling it a commercial fest meant only to jack up the price of chocolate and flowers, to rub your nose into the fact you were alone and nobody cared about you. People were weird.
One such people was human, six feet and eight inches tall, thirty-five years old, thin and lanky and covered in freckles from head to toe, fair-skinned and ginger-haired, wore glasses, and went by the name of Sasha Farr. Truth be told, Sasha never had any special feelings about Valentine's Day, either positive or negative. During her years of living in the city, she'd never been a romantic - by her own words, she had always been an Amazon queen of pussy hunters, flirting abundantly with other women and picking up flings and one-night-stands almost daily. She was in it for the thrill - the thrill of the hunt, the thrill of the sex, the thrill of success. And she could get that any day of the year.
This year was different. February 2026 marked the tenth month after she had literally fallen into a new life by rolling her car down the side of a mountain and being found by a caring, helpful, fluffy purple and white-furred foxtaur woman farmer. A vulpine taur of simpler ways and simpler manners, who had taught her so much and had shown her so many things about herself she hadn't even known were part of her. A six-limbed vixen who had given her so much more than she even thought she deserved. She wanted to do something special for her sweet, soft, sexy fuzzbutt.
But what to do? They were already married to each other. They were romantic with each other every day, in their own special way. And Buddleia wasn't even aware of the concept of Valentine's Day. Not to mention she already had everything she could possibly want in her simple life and simple mind. So what to do? Sasha quietly mulled over that question as the days rolled by and they did their daily chores and routines on their small but gradually growing farm. And she quietly formulated a plan.
February. The days went by quietly. Dreary, overcast, drizzly, misty and sometimes even downright foggy. The January batch of silage had been sold, the grass had been cut, baled and wrapped, the wrapped bales had been collected and stored and were checked every day and marked, the work passing by the first week of the month almost without being noticed. Every day, a breakfast of thick, warm porridge made of grains, bread, milk and fruits was had, a bath in the pond was had, some time was spent drying off and brushing hair and fur and cuddling before the start of the day. Every day, the chickens were fed, the rabbits were fed, Choco the goat was fed, eggs were collected and stored, Choco was pleasured and milked, the milk was filtered, chilled and either stored or processed further into cheese or sometimes butter.
There was one new thing that was not directly related to Butterfly Farm, yet was related to the farm. Every day, a Mercedes-Benz mobile laboratory was parked on the extended Cherry Blossom Road and three female biologists, a Belgian Hare - which was actually a specific breed of rabbit - a blue-gray tabby cat and a quite dark-furred ocelot, milled about in the strips of land where saplings of the newly developed super fast-growing trees that had been named Bambizia Firs had been planted. Every day, the three women checked the saplings, measuring and noting down their height and circumference, measuring and noting down the fresh new shoots on their branches, taking samples of their needles and bark and sap, as well as of the ground directly around them. And they did their work just as naked as Sasha and Buddleia did their farming work.
After several days of working nude alongside one another, and the three biologist women being invited to share lunch on the farm once they were done with their data collecting and Buddleia and Sasha were done with their morning chores, they were already on first-name terms with one another. They had cheerful conversations, about work on the farm, about biology work at the university in the large city of Enfanor, about their respective interests. Sometimes they also had more scientific conversations, about the work on the farm, about different types of crops, plants and trees, or even about the different lineages of foxtaurs of which Buddleia was one. The ocelot woman by the name of Sandy Nightz kept every now and then getting slight bouts of the giggles due to the way Buddleia was speaking, but she was gradually getting used to it, even if she also kept getting amused by it. The Belgian Hare woman by the name of Janni Baston gave tips on the grass and for increasing the quality of the silage they made out of it. The gray-blue tabby cat woman by the name of Barbara Westing shared a recipe for fertilizer that would boost the nitrogen level of the soil and advised on planting a cover crop of Austrian winter peas in April and letting it grow throughout April and June, then cultivating it into the ground right before sowing sunflowers at the end of June. That, combined with the nitrogen-rich fertilizer, allowed sunflowers to be planted in the same field every year rather than once every three to four years, and she also advised to use sunflowers for double crop planting with wheat, as they could be planted relatively late, up until the middle of July, after wheat from a field had been harvested, and they grew relatively quickly so they could be harvested before a new crop of wheat or another cereal grain would be planted at the end of autumn, plus the later planting also helped preventing damage from sunflower moths. The prospect of having regular yearly fields of sunflowers as well as having additional sunflowers in between the cereal crops on other fields greatly tickled Buddleia, and her super cheerful reactions to the advice in turn greatly tickled Sasha and the three biologists as well.
Something that also tickled Sasha a good deal was the mixed Munchkin/Maine Coon feral pet cat she had picked up at a pet store in Fossil City when she had to be there for a long talk with the local adoption agency. The long-furred and short-legged black and white cat seemed to be taking to a life on the farm very well, exploring the fields and forests around the farm, investigating the large shed and even every now and then catching a feral mouse from between the bags of seed and animal feed, staring at the large fish in the pond and snuggling up whenever Sasha and Buddleia had their times of relaxation after the morning bath, after lunch and after their evening bath and dinner. Quite quickly, the long but short cat had found a favorite spot to relax during those times; curling up right on top of Sasha's head like a fluffy fur hat. It looked positively adorable.
And just like that, the first week of February had passed and it was already Friday. The day started out muffled; Sasha and Buddleia couldn't even see one another while they went through their morning routine with the animals, as a thick fog was laying across the land like a damp downy blanket. They had to take some extra time after their morning bath in the pond as well - not because they lost themselves in their cuddling, but because it simply took more time to dry with the layer of soggy clouds enveloping the surroundings. Their trip into the tiny community village of Rolling Hills also took a decent bit longer than usual, as old Emmie, Buddleia's 1948 Chevrolet Fleetline, only had one headlight and still had a 6-volt system so even the high-beam from the leftover headlight hardly penetrated the fog, plus the old engine had trouble breathing through its small air filter and the thick fog, smoking even more than usual.
Finally arriving in Rolling Hills and parking in one of the spots in front of the Stebbins General Store, they could even hardly see past the greengrocer and the crafts store and chandlery. As if the community village wasn't already small enough by itself, now it looked even tinier.
"Good morning Sasha, Buddleia," the graying tan mouse post mistress, Mrs. Dobbart, greeted them as they stepped into the post office. "My, it sure is foggy this morning, isn't it?"
"It's a small world after all, missus Dobbart," Sasha said with a light chortle. "I've seen fog like this rolling in from Coelacanth Bay during this season, but I have to say it seems even thicker in this valley. I hope it hasn't caused problems for your husband on his mail round?"
"Yes, the fog here comes down from the Dino Mountain range, and as this valley is so sheltered, it just lays here," Mrs. Dobbart nodded with a smile. "Fortunately everything is so close by in the village and everything is where it has been for generations, so my husband can do his mail round with his eyes closed if need be."
"Is like blanket! I like!" Buddleia smiled after she had taken a couple of envelopes from their post box. "Is like you can wrap cloud all around you, is only bit wet, yee hee!"
Mrs. Dobbart hid a light chortle behind a paw.
"That is actually rather funny. We often get this fog in February, and my mother always called it Cupid's blanket, telling us Cupid was tucking us in nice and comfortable to snuggle with our loved ones for Valentine's Day."
"Comfortable? In a damp, chilly cloud?" Sasha shook her head with a mild grin. "That little cherub has some strange ideas about comfort. I think he's more likely to call down these clouds to obscure himself from sight, because boy, if I'd get my hands on him, I'd clip his wings for pulling these wet blankets all over us."
"Now now, Sasha," Mrs. Dobbart smiled. "Surely you are not a grouch where Valentine's Day is concerned, are you? You're such a sweet and caring woman, it seems like it's just your kind of day."
Sasha smiled and made a dismissive gesture with a hand.
"To be quite honest, missus Dobbart, I've never had any special feelings concerning Valentine's Day. Back in the city, I had many relationships, yes, but those were, and please do pardon the term and my language, merely fuckbuddies. I've never been big on romance really, until I met this big sweet fuzzbutt here." She lightly booped the cool, damp black pad of Buddleia's nose with a fingertip. "And this big soft fuzzbutt here already knows I love her more than anything, I don't need a special day to show her that."
"Yes!" Buddleia chirped, flicking out her tongue to give a little lick to Sasha's finger. "Is Valentine Day every day with my Sasha noodle, yee hee! She super cuddly!"
"You're one to talk, fuzzbutt," Sasha chortled, playfully tickling under Buddleia's chin with her licked finger. "If I didn't kick that big fuzzy rear of yours into gear every day to do our chores and actually work on our farm, you'd be cuddling me the whole live-long day."
"Isn't that so sweet," Mrs. Dobbart smiled. She raised a finger and winked at Sasha from over her half-moon glasses. "Well, I predict you will find many Valentine's cards in your mailbox next week, Sasha. But I shall not tell you whom they came from; it's postal secret, and I am not one to spoil the mystery."
"I'm pretty sure I can tell who the cards are from by the way they look and what's written on them," Sasha sniggered. "And I also won't be surprised at an avalanche of cards next week, because this whole village is nuts, in the best way possible." She pointed a finger back at the graying mouse woman. "I also promise I won't be adding to your husband's workload, missus Dobbart, because I would have to send a love letter to this whole village, so I may as well have priestess Kyeeru convey my love for this village and all the people here all at once in one of her services."
"That is so sweet as well," Mrs. Dobbart smiled. "That's a very nice idea, actually, and it would work very well because pretty much the entire village attends preacher Kyeeru's services."
"Then I'd better go talk to her about her service for next week Sunday," Sasha chortled. "Do have yourself a lovely day, missus Dobbart, and don't bump into anything on your way home now!"
"I know my way home from here with my eyes closed as well, Sasha, so I shall be safe," Mrs. Dobbart smiled with a light chortle. "You two have a lovely day as well."
"Yes, you have nice day, missus Dobbart!" Buddleia smiled with her upper canine teeth on display. "We see you next week, yes!"
With a cheerful wave back and forth, they said their goodbyes and left the post office. Buddleia tossed the few envelopes into old Emmie through one of the missing side windows and followed Sasha into the general store. Even the tinkle of the bell over the door sounded a bit muffled because of the fog, but nevertheless both the black and white Border Collie woman Mrs. Stebbins and the chocolate-colored Labrador girl Millie looked up and around from one of the shelves they were restocking and smiled.
"Morning, moms!" Millie smiled brightly. "Boy, is it foggy or what? It's even thicker than the Fossil City harbour fog, mom Sash, isn't it? I can't remember having seen fog this thick before!"
"No?" Sasha sniggered playfully. "And what about those thick fogs you get lost in whenever I tease and edge you?"
"Mooooommm!" Millie yelped, instantly blushing so bright she almost lit up the store. "Th-that's... that's not..!"
"I have to side with Millie here, Sasha," Mrs. Stebbins smiled while hiding a chortle behind a paw. "We may be very free and open here, but that is hardly a topic to speak about out in the open like this."
"And here I thought this fog was thick enough to provide plenty cover," Sasha chortled, taking Millie's old cowboy hat off the canine girl's head and playfully ruffling Millie's hair with her other hand before replacing the hat. "Sorry choco-snoot, you know me, that was just too good an opportunity for me to pass up."
Millie mumbled something under her breath and hid her face in the side of Sasha's shirt as the human woman leaned aside a bit from Buddleia pushing her shoulder with a paw.
"You so terrible, Sasha! Yee yee hee! You such big big bad tease! Yee hee! Look how bad you make poor puppy blush, yee hee! She almost catch fire!"
"In that case I might better adjourn myself to a different place, before she burns the store down," Sasha sniggered. "Go on and get everything here squared away, babe, I'll go and have a talk with priestess Kyeeru, and I'll fill our jerrycans too. You left the key in old Emmie, yeah?"
"I never take out key, it rusted in there, yee hee!" Buddleia chortled with several staccato yips.
"Right," Sasha nodded with a light grin. "I'll only take her across the road, so you should be able to find her back quite easily."
"You, uh... you don't have to leave on my account, mom..." Millie mumbled while lightly nuzzling Sasha's side.
"I know, choco-snoot," Sasha smiled, putting a hand under Millie's chin and lifting her head a bit to press a smooch on the Labrador girl's damp chocolate-colored nose pad. "But like I said, I need to have a little talk with priestess Kyeeru anyway and refill our gas and two-stroke. Some of our tractors run on gas, you know, and we just finished our February mowing and baling so they're running low."
"Go on and get their revenue, Millie," Mrs. Stebbins smiled, turning to Sasha. "You don't give your grass a winter rest period, Sasha?"
Sasha gestured at the door with a soft laugh.
"In this climate, even those low-lying clouds don't keep our grass down, Doris. If we didn't cut it through winter, we wouldn't be able to get through it come spring. Besides, we may get a bit less of it during winter, but it's still a sizeable boost to our income, and I want Butterfly Farm to be a million dollar farm by next year. With the steady monthly silage income, we'll get there, too."
"Oh my, that is quite the lofty goal," Mrs. Stebbins smiled. "And it's so wonderful to see how you not only brought the farm back from being almost dead, but made it flourish so much too."
"Sasha such good farmer!" Buddleia nodded happily, showing all her teeth and the tip of her dark pink tongue poking from between them in a cheery grin. "Not as good as me, but she have so good ideas I not think of!"
"You'll totally do it, mom," Millie smiled from behind the counter, having managed to suppress her blush by concentrating on adding up the revenue from the goat cheeses. "You've always been very goal-oriented, and you're really a super good farmer."
"Yeah yeah yeah," Sasha grinned, giving her head an amused shake. "Sheesh Doris, you'd better check your stock of syrup, since these two nutso fuzzbutts have been rubbing it on my chin all the way down to my feet."
Laughing cheerfully, they waved at each other as Sasha stepped back to the door and left the general store. She calmly walked back past the post office and turned to walk up to the small church, stepping inside and looking around. In the back by the pulpit, she found the winged white-furred jerboa woman, priestess Kyeeru, calmly talking to the exceedingly pretty silver-white Burmilla cat woman, deputy sheriff Seeley. Both of them looked up and smiled as Sasha walked up to them.
"Good morning, sister Sasha," priestess Kyeeru smiled, and deputy Seeley tipped her hat. "Morning, missus Farr."
"Eleonora, please now," Sasha chortled. "You know darn well my name is Sasha; you don't have to avail yourself of such official forms of politeness just because priestess Kyeeru is here. I darn well call her Sareash as well, and we've had sex together so I highly doubt she'd be shocked if you'd call me Sasha."
"That makes two of us then," the pretty silver-white feline woman chortled. "And it's just a habit, Sasha, we officers of the law always should be polite and respectful because that's how we should and want to be treated as well."
"Then I very respectfully shall not say we should have sex together sometime as well and compare notes on Sareash here," Sasha grinned. "That wasn't what I came here for anyway, as surprising as that might be, haha!"
"That shocks me more than sister Eleonora calling you by your first name, sister Sasha," priestess Kyeeru chortled merrily. "But if that was not what you came to visit for, then what might I be of service with?"
"You can be of service with a service, priestess," Sasha chortled. "Would you by any chance do anything special for Valentine's Day, or are you just saving that for the Sunday after that?"
"I only have an evening service on Saturdays, sister Sasha," priestess Kyeeru smiled. "But as the day of love does fall on next Saturday, I was indeed planning on preaching some extra love and affection and possible sensuality for the people of this town to engage in during that day."
"It's such a shame we're so far out of town that we have to miss those services," Sasha smiled with a shake of her head. "But could you please do me a favor, priestess? Could you please convey my dearest Valentine's wishes to this whole village and everyone living here in your coming Valentine's service, and tell everyone I love them deeply from the bottom of my heart?" She curled her lips into a playful grin again. "And maybe tell the ladies I also love them dearly from the bottom of my mound of Venus?"
Both priestess Kyeeru and deputy Seeley laughed cheerfully.
"It shall be my honour and pleasure, sister Sasha," priestess Kyeeru chortled, closing one of her lovely sky blue eyes in a cheery wink. "And I shall even pay a visit to your farm after my Sunday service to bring you all the love from everyone in this village, and particularly the ladies."
"I'm very tempted to give you a police escort to Butterfly Farm that day, preacher," deputy Seeley chortled.
"You're both mighty welcome to drop by," Sasha grinned. "Either way, thank you so much in advance, priestess. I'll let you both get back to your conversation now, as I still have more stops to make in town myself."
She pressed a kiss on priestess Kyeeru's lips and also softly rubbed the winged jerboa's extraordinarily large and long ears for a moment because she just couldn't help herself, and she pressed a playful kiss on deputy Seeley's lips as well. Chortling cheerfully and waving, they said their goodbyes, and Sasha calmly walked back out of the small church and up to the general store. She got into the old beat-up Chevrolet Fleetline, backed out of the parking spot in front of the store and right across the dirt road to park by the fuel pumps in front of the garage.
After scanning her bank card at two of the pumps and filling old Emmie's tank and most of the metal jerrycans with regular gasoline and a couple of the jerrycans with two-stroke fuel, and putting the jerrycans back into the car's trunk, the freckled human woman stepped around the fuel pumps and into the garage building. Inside, the tan, gray and yellow agouti deer mouse man Peter Stanz was leaning over under the hood of an early 1980s Mitsubishi Colt, turning his head and standing upright as Sasha came in.
"Hey Sasha, morning! Didn't expect to see you here," he said, wiping his paws on a rag. "Anything I can do for you?"
"You can indeed, Peter," Sasha nodded with a smile, pointing out the door behind her. "Even if you may hardly see her sitting there by the pumps, do you happen to know what color old Emmie used to be?"
"Sure, that's an Emerald green car," the deer mouse man nodded. "My grandfather sold it to Buddleia's grandfather back in nineteen fifty, so we actually have that on file." A light chuckle escaped him. "Buddleia even called that car Emmie because of that paint color, didn't you know that?"
"I did actually, but I wondered if you knew about it as well," Sasha nodded with a smile. "Can you get that paint still?"
"Sure, that color's still used today, even if now it's urethane rather than enamel," Peter nodded. "Heck, I even know of a company specializing in vintage car paint, so I can get it in enamel, lacquer, single-stage urethane or a basecoat clearcoat urethane."
"Excuse me for sounding dumb, but what's the difference between those last two?" Sasha chortled.
Peter let out another light chuckle.
"Single-stage doesn't need a clearcoat because it already has the clear more or less mixed in. It's much simpler and faster than a basecoat clearcoat system, but you do get a much nicer shine when you use a clearcoat."
"Right, I see," Sasha nodded with a smile. "Can you also still get parts for a car like that?"
"Depends," Peter shrugged. "A lot of parts, sure, you can order them new, for restoration projects and the like. But some parts just haven't been made for decades anymore, so you'd have to find them in a junkyard or something. You gotta remember that's an almost eighty year old car, you know."
"Yeah, I'm aware of that," Sasha nodded. "But could you get parts for that car? Like headlights and windows and such? Maybe something to convert it to a twelve volt system, heck, maybe even some trim and stuff?"
"Sure," Peter nodded with a smile. "I happen to know of a Canadian company that specializes in reproducing parts for Chevrolets of the nineteen forties, and they actually have a surprisingly extensive catalogue, although I don't know if they have everything. But I could get almost anything you'd need from there, and even in different variants, like, say, windows in either clear or with a green, copper-brown or blue tint or tinted sunvisor strip, six and twelve volt light bulbs and sealed-beam lights in either incandescent, halogen or LED." He canted his head a bit and grinned lightly. "Are you planning on restoring that old beater?"
"Restoring is a big word," Sasha chortled. "But yeah, I do wanna spruce up old Emmie. She must have been a very pretty car back in her day, and she's been such a loyal transport for Leia and her grandfolks for so many decades, she deserves it." A soft laugh. "Besides, she only has one headlight left, and that was a major pain in the ass driving here in that fog today, and she was choking on that fog and smoking like me when I lived in the city."
"That I can imagine," Peter nodded with a chuckle. "Well, if you give me a list, I can do some ordering for you if you want to."
"Can you also do some installing?" Sasha said with a laugh. "And here's a challenge; can you overhaul that motor in a day?"
"That little two-sixteen Blue Flame? With a foot tied behind my back," Peter chuckled.
"I'd like to see that," Sasha chortled. "But alright, if you can do the mechanicals, I can do the body and paint, I've gotten quite good at that if I may say so myself. Or good enough for our farm vehicles anyway," she added with another laugh. "She doesn't have to look pristine, I'd even omit some of the trim because of the hard life our vehicles have on the farm and looking pretty is not just not a requirement but even is unadvisable, but I would like her to look nice again and add a few decades more to her life."
"We can definitely do that," Peter nodded with a smile. "Tell you what, why don't you pull her in here and we'll give her a once-over and see what we need to order."
Sasha also nodded and walked back outside while Peter opened one of the large garage doors. Backing the old beat-up car into the garage and getting out again, the human woman and the deer mouse man slowly stepped around the car, pointing out details, summing up and noting down requirements and additional wants or omissions, and bouncing some ideas off of one another. By the time Peter had his full list, he did a check on the computer in the small office - the Canadian company he had mentioned also had a subsidiary in Minnaluna as so many old, classic and antique cars were still on the road and even used daily in the country.
"Well, I can have everything here in a few days, Sasha," he smiled, pointing at the computer screen. "Gonna be a bit pricey, but hey, it's still cheaper than buying another forty-eight Fleetline in decent to good condition."
"And like I said, to me, and I daresay even more to Leia, she's worth it," Sasha nodded with a smile. "Plus with the generous income we generate from the silage we make, we have good enough room in our finances now to splurge a bit on non-essentials like this. Oh, hey, come to that, could you maybe also find me a two-CV parts car? A modern one; weren't they made until into the nineteen nineties?"
"Up to nineteen ninety, if I remember right," Peter nodded. "I think the junkyard in Arfafield has a few from the late eighties, so what are you looking for exactly?"
"An as late as possible model," Sasha said. "I don't care if it's wrecked beyond salvaging, so long as the motor and trans are good, and maybe the dash. That delivery van type one Dan gave me screams its lungs out at me if I make it do anything over fifty an hour, so I want to put in a much younger motor that can do much better than that. But it's such a weird and specific layout, I'm gonna need a two-CV donor car because no other engines will fit in it; I considered using the engine and trans out of my wrecked Volvo, but that's a very definite no-go."
"I'll have a look for you, and I'll call you when I find something and when these parts are in," Peter promised.
"Text me instead," Sasha smiled. "I wanna keep it a surprise for Leia. Kinda like a gift for Valentine's Day."
"That's sweet," Peter smiled. "Alright, I'll put this order in and look for a donor car for you, and I'll shoot you a text when everything is here. Count on sometime next week."
"Thanks, that'll be perfect," Sasha nodded with a smile. "I'll have to be here on Friday anyway for the weekly round of mail and revenue, so I'll see you then."
"That works out," Peter nodded. "I'll have everything for the Chev, and I'll let you know if you should bring a trailer."
"Great, thank you so much," Sasha smiled. "See you then, Peter."
She got into the old car again and pulled out of the garage to park back by the fuel pumps. Getting back out, the tall human woman calmly walked up the dirt road, looking around a bit and smiling to herself at how the buildings alongside the road loomed out of the fog and disappeared back into it as she walked past them. A semi-dark blob coming from the bakery store turned out to be Buddleia, who happily stepped over to Sasha with a paper bag in her arms.
"Sasha! You look for me?" she smiled, with her upper canines and the very tip of her dark pink tongue on display. "I get bread and apple frizzles, yum! I done now, you done too?"
"I just have something to ask those crazy bunbuns in there," Sasha chortled, gesturing at the dairy building. "You can go to the car if you like, but maybe you'd better join me in there, because goodness knows how long those crazy bunbuns will keep me in there, haha."
"Yee yee hee! I come with you, Sasha, yes!" Buddleia chortled in several staccato yips. "I protect you from super bouncy bunnies, yes, yee hee!"
"That makes me feel so much safer," Sasha chortled. "Well, let's go see how much of the day we can waste by asking those bunbuns one simple question."
Giggling softly, both of them stepped into the dairy building. The three rabbit sisters were hanging out near the front of the building - Lucille, the silvery-brown one, leafing through a thick book, Jeanine, the cream-orange one, making notes in a binder and every now and then licking the pencil she was writing with, and Annette, the silvery-blue one, wiping down shelves with a soft cloth. All three of them looked around and let out the playful cheer that had almost become customary every time Sasha entered the store.
"Sashaaa! Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha!"
"Caw caw!" Sasha laughed, holding her hands over her ears. "Settle down, you bunch of hyperactive seagulls! Sheesh! Do I get that every time?"
"Yes! Yes yes yes!" Jeanine giggled.
"It makes us so happy to see you!" Lucille giggled.
"You bring a bounce to our step and our day!" Annette giggled.
"As if you need any more bounce!" Sasha laughed, playfully fending off the three rabbit women as they all three took her into a hug simultaneously. "Now, get off me and settle down, or I'll have my sweet big fuzzbutt here sit on you!"
There was a bit of cheerful groping and fondling in the group hug before the three rabbit sisters let go of Sasha, giggling happily and taking Buddleia into a group hug instead.
"So what did you come to our humble store for, apart from brightening our day, honey?" Jeanine chortled.
"Yes, what can we do for you, honey?" Lucille smiled brightly.
"Apart from trying to contain our happy excitement at seeing you, that is," Annette giggled.
"That would already be a mighty big help," Sasha chortled, letting go another laugh at Buddleia setting down her paper bag on the counter and wrapping her arms around all three rabbit women at once. "Although that will help as well, thank you babe. And I do actually have a quite serious question to ask." A playful grin curled her lips as she looked at Annette. "Directed mainly at you, as you are the cheesiest of you lot."
All three rabbit sisters cheerily crooned and wriggled a bit in the wide embrace of Buddleia's arms and giggled at Sasha's last remark.
"I'll forgive you for that one because you're so cute and sexy, sweetheart," Annette chortled. "So what is your question?"
"I've been kinda wondering," Sasha smiled with a chortle. "See, when I make cheese from our goat's milk, I'm always left with a bunch of that watery stuff at the end. I've been pouring it into our compost bin, but is there maybe something better and more productive I could do with it? As I mentioned sometime before, I'm not much on throwing away and wasting things, and since you showed me some things I could do with the leftovers of making butter and such, I figured you'd be the ones to ask."
"Oh yes, for goodness sake, don't throw it out, sweetheart!" Annette nodded. "Throw it in a milk boiler instead!" She squirmed and wriggled herself downwards so she could duck out from under Buddleia's arms and stepped over to one of the shelves she had been wiping, making a wide gesture along it with a paw. "Look at all this ricotta! That's what you make with it, sweetheart! And you have the space for it, you can use those top shelves of your racks to let it age for ninety or more days into a nice semi-hard to hard ricotta that keeps well and is perfect for grating or shaving over pasta or cauliflower or something."
"See, I knew it was worth the risk of a heart attack coming in here and asking you goofballs," Sasha sniggered. "So I can make even more cheese out of it?"
"Oh yes, it's useful to about the last drop, sweetheart," Annette nodded with a smile. "And you can even use what's left over after making ricotta as a natural rinse for your hair and fur, too!
"Ahuh, right," Sasha sniggered again, canting her head and quirking an eyebrow. "Are you sure that has nothing to do with you goofballs' dairy kink, missy?"
"It did start out as that!" Lucille giggled from between Buddleia's arms, somehow having managed to wiggle her ears up under the vulpine taur's shirt.
"Yes it did, but the results we got led us to actually delve into it a bit more," Annette nodded with a chortle. "See, it turns out the proteins and vitamins in the whey actually strengthen your hair and fur, and it's all natural so your hair and fur stays healthy, too." She took a measuring cup from behind the counter, which had a milliliter denotation on it, and ran a finger along it. "So what you do is this; after making ricotta, take five hundred milliliters of the leftover whey and mix it with two hundred fifty milliliters of fresh orange juice. Then when you have shampooed your hair, massage that mixture into your hair, or into Buddy's fur for instance, leave it for a couple minutes, and rinse it out with cool water. Just like that water in that lovely pond you said you two bathe in, that's perfect! Do it only once or at most twice a week, and you'll find your hair and fur is left extra soft and glossy and shiny, and it just feels better on you somehow."
"Ri-i-ight," Sasha nodded with a mild grin. "So now I'll need oranges too. And a milk boiler it sounds like, because I don't have one and I doubt you meant just a simple pot or pan. And how do I even make ricotta in the first place?"
"Ah yes, of course! Come over here, sweetheart, and I'll show you!" Annette chortled, setting down the measuring cup and grabbing a hold of Sasha's hand instead to pull the human woman towards the back of the building. "A milk boiler is indeed more specialized than just a pot or pan, and you'll need some other things as well."
"Alright, sounds like this may take a minute or two, so you can let the others go as well, babe," Sasha chortled at Buddleia as she was pulled towards the rear of the building.
Buddleia chirped a chortle as well and opened her arms to release the other two rabbit sisters. They still stayed cuddled up close against the vixen-taur while they walked to the back of the building, where Annette brought Sasha over to a small former workspace which had been converted into a small showcase of vintage equipment.
"Now, we use modern stainless steel equipment of course, but this for instance is a milk boiler, sweetheart," she smiled, pointing at what looked like an earthenware vase with a lid and an integrated heating area in the base, and at a wooden bucket with a ring holding cheesecloth clipped over the top of it. "And this is a draining bucket, you'll need to use something like this because the curds you get are very fine so you'll have to sift it through fine cheesecloth. You make cool temperature cheese with rennet, so you end up with sweet whey. That has to acidify just a tad, so you'll have to let it sit for twelve to twenty-four hours. You milk your goat twice a day, yes?" She nodded as Sasha nodded. "Alright, good, so what you can do is this. After you've milked her in the morning and you've made cheese, you can let that whey sit. Then after you've milked her in the evening, if you make cheese with that milk as well you can let the whey you get from that sit overnight, and use the whey from that morning to make ricotta."
"I don't make cheese every day, though, let alone twice a day," Sasha remarked with a chortle.
"That's fine, sweetheart, that's fine," Annette smiled, fluttering a paw up and down. "Just remember you need to let the whey sit for at least twelve hours. Then when you're ready, toss it in a milk boiler. You can just use a small one for home use, that'll do just fine, but you'll want to get a stainless steel one with a thermostat, so you can set it to two-oh-eight F or about ninety-eight C. Only set it after you've poured in the whey, and it will heat up gradually once you switch it on. When it gets to the set temperature, let it sit for about five minutes, then remove the lid, switch it off and let it cool down, okay? In the meantime, you can set out your pail with cheesecloth, and you should make sure the cloth is not stretched tight across the ring but it has just a little bit of droop to it, that's the best for not spilling anything. And use the finest cheesecloth you can get, because the curds you get from whey are su-u-uper fine."
"It's already beginning to sound mighty involved," Sasha chortled. "I'll have to spend a day or two just looking for the equipment alone."
"We can get you some, sweetheart!" Annette smiled brightly. "We always have plenty extra spares, so that'll be fine! Anyways, you pour the cooled whey into the bucket through the fine cheesecloth, and you'll be left with a layer of really fine, creamy white curds. Scoop those up and squish them into a jar, and ta-da, you have yourself some fresh creamy ricotta!" She lifted and waggled a finger while leaning her face close to Sasha's face with a chortle. "But be careful, sweetheart! It's very perishable! So if you want to use it for cooking, or as a snack spread on crackers or something, only keep as much as you'll need for one use, because it only keeps for a day or two even in the fridge. You gotta process the rest to give it longer shelf life, and for that, you'll need stuff like this!" She pulled Sasha over to another table displaying old and vintage wooden apparatuses and gestured at them. "Most importantly though, and not shown here; salt! Cheese salt is the best, but you can use any type of salt, except table salt! That has iodine in it, and that's a big no-no, sweetheart! But for the rest, you can use sea salt or rock salt, or kosher salt or even pickling salt. They all have their pros and cons, and like I said, cheese salt is the best option for consistency. And you already have that available, it's that little barrel of salt we gave you for your mini butterfly cheeses, so you're all good there!"
"That's a relief," Sasha chortled. "So what else can I definitely not do without?"
"Right, next most important; a cheese press!" Annette smiled, gesturing at a wooden contraption that had a flat round stamper over a shallow round bowl sitting over a drain, and what looked like an old-fashioned ship's wheel with notches in the spokes, evidently to hang the weights from that were sitting in a wood block on the side with several round openings. "You already have the one for your butterfly cheeses, but get a second one to use exclusively for ricotta, that's the safest and most hygienic solution. Always best to keep different things strictly separated, sweetheart!" She picked up a mat made out of a collection of thin sticks tied together in a row. "And you'll need some loose-weave cheesecloth to line the press basket, and some drying mats, like these! Both to lay the cheese on in between the salting stages, and to lay it on to let it age so the air can circulate around it."
"Salting stages?" Sasha sniggered. "There's more than one?"
"Oh yes indeed, sweetheart!" Annette nodded so fervently her ears bobbed back and forth. "What you're doing in this procedure is basically making ricotta salata, the salted and dried variant, and it comes rather precise to ensure good quality and good shelf life."
"Talk about involved," Sasha sniggered again. "Dare I even ask how it's done?"
"Of course you do!" Annette smiled brightly, bobbing her ears with her nodding again. "Because you're an adventurous woman! And it's really not that hard, just a tad repetitive and you need plenty patience. See, here's how it's done. You have made your fresh creamy ricotta in the way I just told you about, with the milk boiler and all. You have separated the amount you want to use that day for snacking or cooking with, all the rest of it goes into a bowl along with a tablespoon of cheese salt per eight hundred grams of ricotta and you mix it all together real good. Then you line the basket of your cheese press with the loose-weave cheesecloth, and make sure you leave large enough flaps overhanging so you can completely cover the top as well. Scoop your fresh creamy ricotta into the basket, smoosh it down firmly, cover up the top with the flaps of the cheesecloth and press it at eleven pounds, or five kilograms, of pressure for half an hour. See, with this old thing, they had these weights, so once you'd cranked down the wheel far enough, you'd hang a five kilogram weight from it so it keeps the pressure down on the cheese. The modern ones we use work with an electric motor so you can just program in the amount of pressure. Anyways! Half an hour at eleven pounds or five kilograms. Then take the cheese out, you can do that easily by unfolding the flaps over the top and taking a hold of those to lift the cheese out of the basket. Rub a teaspoon of cheese salt over the surface, make sure to get it nice and even, turn it over, rub a teaspoon of cheese salt over that surface as well, nice and evenly again, put it back into the basket with that side facing up this time, cover it up with the cheesecloth again and press it at twenty-two pounds or ten kilograms for six hours. Then same thing; take it out, rub a teaspoon of cheese salt over the surface nice and evenly, turn it over, rub a teaspoon of cheese salt over that surface nice and evenly as well, put it back in the basket with that side facing up and cover it back up, and press it again at twenty-two pounds or ten kilograms for twelve hours. Overnight, basically. Then the next day, take it out of the basket again, take off the cheesecloth and lay the little cheese wheel on one of these mats to air dry. Two to three days, touch it every now and then; it should feel dry to the touch. When it is, lay it on these mats on the top shelf of your racks and let it age. After fourteen days it's lovely and fresh and soft, but if you want it to have a longer shelf life and be harder so you can grate it, let it age for at least ninety days. Longer is fine, the longer it ages the harder it becomes, but ninety days is the minimum if you want it at a good firm consistency for grating. And of course, you'll probably be selling most of it, so letting it age longer is the better choice. You can easily let it sit six months, like with those cheeses from the skimmed milk after making butter that I showed you how to make."
"Right," Sasha smiled with a short nod of her head while she took out her phone and started typing rapidly. "So let me see if I got all of this right. List one; milk boiler with thermostat, bucket with loose, very fine cheesecloth on a ring, cheese press, loose-weave cheesecloth, drying mats made out of sticks, and cheese salt. List two-A; keep whey after making regular goat cheese, let sit for twelve hours, then heat up to ninety-eight C or two-oh-eight F, let it sit at that temperature for five minutes, strain into bucket through the super fine cheesecloth, scoop into bowl. List two-B; one tablespoon of cheese salt per eight hundred grams of ricotta, mix thoroughly, put loose-weave cheesecloth in press basket, scoop salted mush into press basket, cover with cloth, press at five kilograms for half an hour, take out, rub teaspoon of cheese salt over surface, turn over, rub teaspoon of cheese salt over surface, put back, cover up, press at ten kilograms for six hours, take out, rub teaspoon of cheese salt over surface, turn over, rub teaspoon of cheese salt over surface, put back, cover up, press at ten kilograms for twelve hours, take out, let dry for two to three days, set away on stick mats for ninety days to six months to age, bring to general store, profit."
"You got it, sweetheart!" Annette smiled brightly, nodding and leaning over a bit in the process so her bobbing ears brushed against Sasha's head and face. "And like I said, we can get you the straining bucket and the different kinds of cheesecloth, and the salt anytime you need more. And you can use the leftover strained whey to mix with fresh orange juice for your hair! Oh, and give a tablespoon of it to your chickens once a week! They love it, and it's good for them and their eggs! We always save some for missus Stebbins because she does that too!"
"That's an idea," Sasha nodded, making a few more notes on her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. "Once we're back home, I'll order me some of that equipment, and when I come here to pick it up next week, I'll get the rest of it from you as well." She curled her lips into a playful grin. "And so much of such good advice and tips, that deserves a kiss."
She pulled near the happily crooning and wiggling silvery-blue rabbit woman and took her into a deep kiss. Of course, the moment they broke apart, Jeanine and Lucille pressed themselves up against each of Sasha's sides and crooned as well.
"We helped too, honey!"
"Yes we did, we gave all the moral support here!"
"One atta time, goofballs," Sasha sniggered.
She took the other two rabbit sisters into a deep kiss one by one as well. Once they were all standing upright again, Sasha grinned and winked at the three happily crooning and shivering rabbit women.
"See y'all next week, goofballs. And don't get your hopes up too much, I have other things to do next week as well that are gonna take quite some time, so I'll probably just pop in to pick up the equipment."
"Mmmhh... worth it," Annette murmured with a smile.
"We'll still be looking forward to it," Lucille crooned.
"And we'll have a treat ready for you, honey," Jeanine smiled breathily.
"I dread to think what kind of ingredients might be in that," Sasha grinned.
"Don't you trust us, honey?" Lucille giggled, rubbing a paw over Sasha's bum.
"Hell no I don't," Sasha laughed. "Because y'all are fucking crazy, all three of you are!"
"Ohhh, you hurt us, sweetheart!" Annette giggled, putting the back of a paw against her forehead in a theatrical gesture.
"But she right! Yee hee!" Buddleia yipped a giggle. "You all very silly and suspicious, yee hee!"
Jeanine put both paws on her chest with a giggle.
"Buddy our buddy! Not you too! You're supposed to be on our side and sort out that woman of yours!"
"No! Yee hee! She my woman, you say yourself! So I always on her side, is how works, yee hee!" Buddleia giggled in staccato yips.
"And there you have it," Sasha sniggered. "See how awesome I am? Haha!" She gestured at the front door of the dairy building. "And look at that! You kept us here so long the fog is beginning to clear up! High time we went, goofballs, if we wanna make it home before midnight, haha! So as I said, see y'all next week!"
Cheerfully giggling and laughing, all five of them walked through the building. Of course the three rabbit sisters took both Sasha and Buddleia into a close and grope-y, fondly hug before the two women had a chance to step outside. Still laughing softly and shaking their heads, they both walked back down the main dirt road and got into old Emmie. Buddleia calmly drove them back to the farm, while Sasha pulled out her phone again and fiddled with it, checking a few things and sending a text message.
Despite the fog indeed beginning to clear, it still took them a bit over four hours to arrive back at the farm. Sasha found the envelopes from the post office and took them into the small old farmhouse, sitting by the small desk with her laptop on it to open them, while Buddleia brought in the groceries she had bought and put them away. When she was finished with that, the fluffy vulpine taur went right on to making some dinner, as it was indeed already close to dinnertime. They had their dinner on the sofa, as the fog, even wispy as it was by the time dinner was over, made it a bit too chilly and damp to sit outside in the back garden or by the rabbit hutches.
Their after-dinner cuddling was also done on the sofa, during which Sasha mentioned she'd had asked Peter Stanz from the garage to look out for a donor car for her 1956 Citroen 2CV AZU, and she also mentioned she'd let him have a look at the engine in old Emmie, as she had noticed how much worse it smoked. Some more giggles were had over the things that had happened in the dairy building in town, but eventually the two of them took their cuddling to the pillow-nest in the small bedroom, so they could cuddle more comfortably and eventually fall asleep.
The following days went by in a calm and pleasant rhythm of routine. Breakfast porridge, a quick bath in the pond, drying and cuddling, feeding the animals, gathering eggs and milk, filtering, chilling and processing the milk, checking and marking the silage bales, sharing lunch with the three biologists gathering their data on the super trees. Every now and then Sasha did some research on her laptop, sometimes she and Buddleia walked through the fields and forests around their farm, where Buddleia pointed out some of her favorite spots to forage - often spots she had learned about from her grandmother, who had learned about them from her mother. They even found some indigo milkcap mushrooms still sprouting in the forest right opposite their farm, and in the large grassy field beyond it Buddleia pointed out a few irregular circular areas in the grass where she said her grandmother used to pick fairy ring mushrooms which she then used to dry on the wide sill under the narrow two-pane kitchen window - which right away explained why that sill was so unusually wide it looked more like a shelf than a window sill.
Finding some of the different mushrooms Sasha had hardly even heard about inspired the freckled human woman to do some more research on her laptop, into recipes in which such mushrooms could be used, and ways to preserve them - and, not unimportantly, how edible they actually were, what they tasted like and if there were any poisonous counterparts, although she did fully trust Buddleia on the edibility of the mushrooms they did find. While she was very interestedly reading an article about how the small fairy ring mushrooms could be dried and ground into fine powder to give dishes and even cheeses a delicious nutty undertone, and making notes on experimenting with that for the small butterfly-shaped goat cheeses she made and possibly even the aged ricotta she was learning about, Buddleia came almost galloping into the small farmhouse while holding up her phone.
"Sasha! Dan give me job!"
"Gah!" Sasha bolted upright behind her laptop and adjusted her glasses which had almost fallen off her nose. "Yeesh, you scared the daylights out of me, fuzzbutt, haha! What did you say?"
The purple and white vixen-taur was almost hopping in place on her four feral feet, still waving her phone in one paw and her tongue almost dangling from her slender muzzle from how cheerily she was smiling.
"Dan give me job, Sasha!"
"You already have a job, fuzzbutt, you're a farmer," Sasha chortled, brushing some locks of her long ginger hair from her face.
"Yee hee! Not like job for all time, Sasha!" Buddleia chirped a chortle. "Is like contract job, for one time!"
"Ohhh, okay, that makes sense," Sasha nodded with a chortle, turning and leaning back in the chair. "So what kind of job did he give you, babe?" She let go a short laugh while nodding at the phone Buddleia was still waving around. "And do you still have him on the line? If so, quit waving that thing like that, you'll make the poor fellow seasick, haha!"
"Yee yee hee yee hee! No, he not on phone anymore!" Buddleia giggled in many staccato yips. "And is logging job! He say, in forest by Co-op is many dead trees, he want taken out to make neater and let young new trees grow. He ask if I can do, and he say we can keep the trees to make planks or chips, and he pay five thousand dollar, Sasha!"
"That's very generous of him," Sasha nodded with a smile. "That whole forest by the Co-op, though? That's one hell of a stretch of forest, babe, that's gonna take us days so one of us would have to camp out there, or maybe Dan has a room available in the Co-op building, and one of us will have to stay here to tend to the animals. When does he want us there?"
"Oh, yes, you right, I not think of, I so excited, yee hee!" Buddleia chirped. "But yes, no, is not whole forest, Dan say is mostly several yards from foot of the hill and towards livestock dealer and BGA. He want forest to be neater there by buildings and shortcut path more defined. But he say he actually want dead trees deeper in forest to stay for ecosystem, yes, just neaten up near buildings and make path better defined. He ask maybe we can start tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's Friday, our mail and revenue run in town, babe, and I have to pick up my new equipment and the donor car for my two-CV tomorrow," Sasha smiled. "But hey, here's what we can do. I can take old Emmie into town tomorrow with that trailer we bought from the sawmill so I can pick up the donor car and the new equipment and everything, and you can take one of the trucks with the bale trailer to that forest to chop down and transport the dead trees, how's that sound?"
"Yes! Is good idea, Sasha! We do like that, yes!" Buddleia nodded cheerfully, wagging her bushy tail. "I go put steel stakes on sides of bale trailer, carry lots logs like that, yes!"
Before Sasha could respond to that, the excited vulpine taur had already pivoted around on her feral hind feet and galloped back out of the small farmhouse. Giving her head an amused shake over Buddleia's cheerful enthusiasm, Sasha got up from behind the small desk and went outside to milk Choco the goat for the evening, as Buddleia clearly would not be getting to that. The lanky human woman also prepared a simple dinner, using the indigo milkcap mushrooms they had found the previous day, as the sounds of clanking and thumping inside the large shed were proof Buddleia was fully involved with modifying the bale trailer.
Even during their cuddle time after dinner, Buddleia was still almost buzzing with excitement, prompting Sasha to throw all her tantric techniques into their cuddling to calm the bubbling vulpine taur down a bit so they could eventually have a good night of sleep. Still, the next morning Buddleia was still extra cheerful and excited, disappearing into the shed again after their porridge breakfast and pond bath to check her work on the trailer so Sasha had to do all the other morning chores. As soon as the silage bales were checked and marked, the animals were tended to, the eggs and milk had been gathered and the milk had been processed, Sasha walked into the shed and sat down on the back of Buddleia's quadruped lower body so she could hug the fluffy purple and white vixen-taur around the upper body from behind, giving a playful lick to one of Buddleia's perky ears.
"Are you almost done here, you silly fuzzbutt you? It's about time to go, you know!"
Buddleia giggled in several chirped staccato yips and turned her upper body a bit to nuzzle her slender muzzle against Sasha's face and give a playful lick to the human woman's neck.
"Yee hee! I ready, Sasha, yes! Look! Sturdy stakes on trailer, and I have chainsaws and cans with two-stroke sitting in grain truck! I only have to connect trailer to grain truck, yes!"
"Good, then go on and do that, and I'll hook the flat trailer to old Emmie," Sasha chortled, sliding off Buddleia's lower back and playfully tickling under the vulpine taur's chin. "Don't forget to bring plenty of straps, and top up the jerrycans of two-stroke at the Co-op when you're done, alright? Because I have a feeling you may burn through quite a bit of it."
"I do, Sasha, yes! I put extra straps in grain truck!" Buddleia nodded, playfully snapping at Sasha's tickling fingers to take them into her mouth for a moment. "I go get grain truck now and put in even more straps, yes!"
She trotted out of the shed, and Sasha also walked out while cheerfully shaking her head. Getting behind the wheel of old Emmie after bolting the old driver seat from the wrecked Volvo into place, the freckled human woman backed the old car up to the flat trailer she had bought from the sawmill and attached it to the tow hitch. After also dropping some chains and come-alongs and ratchet straps in the back of old Emmie, Sasha went inside to put on a pair of shorts, one of her lesbian t-shirts and her beach sandals plus the round pink sun hat with the two ribbons dangling from it, even though the sky was still a muted gray in color and there was hardly any sun visible.
Buddleia soon joined her to pull a shirt over her upper body and put on her round yellow sun hat with the bow. By the shed, they hugged and shared a loving kiss before splitting up, Sasha getting behind the wheel of old Emmie again and Buddleia climbing into the long cab of the 1959 Skoda 706 RT grain truck. One after the other, they drove down the driveway and down the dirt road leading into the valley. As they reached the triangular junction a few hours later, Buddleia honked the truck's horn and Sasha stuck her arm through the missing driver door window to wave as they split up again, Buddleia driving straight on while Sasha took the left turn towards the village of Rolling Hills.
Arriving in the village about another hour later, the tall human woman parked the beat-up old Chevrolet in front of the garage and smiled as she noticed a red 1987 Citroen 2CV6 that was pretty badly crushed in from the back sitting in the small yard with old cars next to the garage. Before walking into the garage, however, Sasha first calmly walked over to the post office and went inside.
"Good morning, missus Dobbart."
"Ah, good morning, Sasha," the graying tan mouse woman smiled. "Is Buddleia not with you today?"
"She's doing some deadwood logging for Dan today," Sasha smiled. "So it's just me to do the round through the village this time. Did anything come in for me? I'm expecting two fairly sizeable boxes."
"Oh, that is nice," Mrs. Dobbart smiled. "And yes indeed! We got in two quite large boxes for you just yesterday, as a matter of fact. If you'll give me a moment, I'll go fetch them from the back for you."
Sasha held up a hand with a smile.
"Actually, missus Dobbart, would it be alright to leave them sitting here for another day? Peter and I are going to do a fair bit of work on old Emmie, and we won't get it finished today, so could I pick up the boxes tomorrow?"
"Oh my! That sounds quite exciting," Mrs. Dobbart smiled. "Yes, of course dear, it's absolutely alright to pick up your boxes tomorrow, but please do make sure to pick them up before five o'clock, as I close the post office at five o'clock on Saturday."
"I hope to already be halfway on my way back to the farm by that time, so you can rest assured I will show up well before five, missus Dobbart," Sasha smiled. "Thank you very much, and I will see you tomorrow."
"You're welcome, dear, and have a very lovely day," Mrs. Dobbart smiled.
With a wave, Sasha left the post office and walked over and into the general store, smiling again at both Mrs. Stebbins and Millie looking up and waving at her as the bell over the door tinkled when she stepped inside.
"Good morning, Sasha."
"Hi mom! Is mom Leia not here?"
"Leia's doing some work for Dan today, and I will do our groceries here tomorrow as I will be working in the garage all day today and part of tomorrow," Sasha smiled. "So for now, all I need are some snacks and drinks."
"Cool!" Millie smiled brightly. "We got in these small Kinder chocolate bars, you gotta try those, mom! They're filled with some kinda soft milky stuff and it's super delicious!"
"I'll trust your recommendation on chocolate, choco-snoot," Sasha chortled.
"Is something wrong with old Emmie, dear?" Mrs. Stebbins asked with a smile. "It sounds like a lot of work, if you're going to be at it all day today."
"Yeah, she's old," Sasha nodded with a smile. "She's getting tired, and she choked pretty badly on that fog last week, so it's time for a pretty thorough refresh."
"Won't it be easier and cheaper to get a different car, mom?" Millie smiled. "That sounds like a whole lot of hard and kinda expensive work, for a car that's not really worth it. I mean, that car is so beat up!"
Sasha playfully pressed a fingertip against the damp, chocolate-colored pad of Millie's nose.
"Now you listen to me, choco-snoot. For any other car in that condition, you're probably right, but old Emmie is definitely worth it, alright? She's been a very loyal mode of transport for Leia's grandfolks and for Leia since nineteen fifty, she's always brought them wherever they needed to be without complaining and without leaving them stranded, and her sentimental value far exceeds any amount of money I'll have to throw at her to rejuvenate her. So as a sort of Valentine's surprise for Leia, I'm going to do just that because she is damn well worth it."
"Hee! Okay, fair enough mom, I can see that!" Millie giggled, wiggling her nose and her short whiskers a bit.
"Good," Sasha chortled. "Now go on, make yourself useful and get me a handful of snacks and a tray of those bottles of pineapple juice we took to Arfafield last time."
"You got it, mom!" Millie smiled brightly.
She started bustling through the store, while Sasha and Mrs. Stebbins looked at her with a smile.
"That's a very sweet gesture of you, Sasha," the black and white Border Collie woman smiled. "I'm sure Buddleia will love it, she grew up with old Emmie. I still remember her grandmother dropping her off here in town for school in that car and picking her back up on Friday afternoon."
"Yeah, I could tell from the way she talked about that car there's a ton of sentimental value," Sasha nodded with a smile. "Old Emmie is part of the farm family, so she darn well deserves a second wind." She paid for the collection of snacks and drinks Millie had put on the counter for her, along with a 45-pack of Chesterfield cigarettes, and chortled. "Well, I'd best get to work. I'll pick up the revenue and do the usual groceries tomorrow, Doris, so I'll see you then."
"That's fine, Sasha," Mrs. Stebbins smiled. "Have a wonderful day, and see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, mom! Good luck!" Millie smiled brightly, holding the door open for Sasha.
"Thanks, choco-snoot," Sasha smiled, leaning aside and pressing a smooch on Millie's damp, chocolate-colored nose pad.
She walked back across the road to the garage and set her armful of snacks and drinks on the old roof rack attached to the old Chevrolet's roof, smiling at the deer mouse man Peter stepping out of the garage building and waving at her just as she was snapping a few pictures of the car with her phone.
"Morning, Sasha! All ready to go?"
"I have the snacks and the motivation if you have the parts," Sasha chortled.
"You betcha, the place is full of boxes," Peter chuckled, motioning at the small yard next to the garage. "And did you see that one already? I think that checks the boxes of what you were looking for; nineteen eighty-seven, rear damage, good running motor with a hundred seventy-one thousand and change on the clock, and it's the biggest engine that was available in those cars."
"Yeah, apart from it looking like crap, it looks great," Sasha nodded with another chortle. "You reckon we could load that first and just leave it sitting there on the trailer while we do the work on old Emmie? I got that trailer from the sawmill, and it has a winch."
"Yeah, should be no problem," Peter nodded. "I can push it on with the skidsteer, too. I'll go grab that, you go on ahead and back the trailer up to it, Sasha."
"Let me set this inside somewhere first, then," Sasha smiled.
She took the snacks and drinks from the roof rack and carried them into the garage building, setting them down on an empty workbench and chortling softly at the sight of a large stack of large and small boxes piled up by a bay with a two-post car lift in the back of the building. Walking back outside, the freckled human woman got behind the wheel of the old Chevrolet, drove it around the fuel pumps and into the small yard and backed it up to the wrecked red Citroen 2CV6. While she pulled out the ramps of the flat trailer and the cable of the winch, the deer mouse man appeared from behind the garage building in an older, faded orange Kubota skidsteer and drove up to the wrecked car as well. Between the two of them and with the help of the equipment, they had the heavily damaged Citroen sitting on the trailer and strapped down in only a handful of minutes.
After disconnecting the trailer, Sasha got behind the wheel of old Emmie again and followed Peter around to the back of the garage building. Peter had opened a garage door at the back through which Sasha pulled into the building and parked between the posts of the car lift in the rear bay. Peter swung the arms of the lift into place under the old Chevrolet and lifted it slightly up off the ground so he could take the wheels off of it, rolling them over to a tire mounting machine and showing Sasha he had found a set of four snow tires that even had a narrow white-wall on the side. Sasha shook her head over that with a cheerful laugh.
"Yeesh, where the hell did you even find whitewall snow tires?"
"Coker, they're an awesome company that make great reproductions of vintage tires," Peter chuckled. "These are in fact brand new, and I figured that aggressive tread of snow tires would work great for running around the farm and these dirt roads around here."
"Well, that's awesome, and that's actually some very clever thinking," Sasha chortled. "Did you also happen to find a period-correct single front seat? These seats are out of my old Volvo, I put the passenger one in here so it's much comfier for me to ride shotgun as Leia usually drives this car, but a period-correct seat would look so much better. But of course, a bench seat would not work, as Leia usually drives this car."
"Yeah, these usually came with benches, but I found a set of buckets for a fifty-five Chevy One-Fifty," Peter nodded. "Frames, brackets and foam, the Warmelinks have them at the moment to upholster them, and the door cards as well to match them."
"Great," Sasha smiled. "Well, I guess we'd better get started."
"Right you are, time's a-wasting," Peter nodded with a chuckle.
He showed Sasha around the garage for a few moments to show her where everything was so they could get to work easily. Sasha started by taking off the roof rack, sanding it down and painting it in a rust-stopping satin black paint while Peter removed the old tires from the rims so Sasha could clean up the rims with a metal wire brush in a small cordless drill and paint them with the dark Emerald green car paint. With that out of the way, they started on some disassembly to make work more easy. They took off the hood so Peter could easily reach the engine to start disconnecting everything and Sasha could use an orbital sander to remove the layer of surface rust covering almost the entire hood.
After that, the lanky human woman started working from the back of the car forwards, taking off the cracked little taillights, the dinged and twisted rear bumper, the brake drums and hardware and any small strips of dulled and pitted chrome trim that were left on the car while Peter rolled near an engine hoist to take the engine out of the car. Sasha looked around as Peter and the tan and yellow Steppe wolf man Jonathan put the engine on a stand and took off the valve cover.
"Quick question; do you have the facility here to put hardened valve seats in that head so she can run on unleaded gas without any problems?"
"That's actually been done already," Peter said.
"Yeah, Phlox had that done here by my father in the late eighties," Jonathan nodded. He rumbled a soft chuckle. "For this car's thirtieth birthday, he said, how 'bout that, huh?"
"That just proves my theory that this car was indeed part of the family," Sasha chortled.
They got right back to work; Sasha vacuumed out the inside of the car and took out the gauges and knobs, the saggy and curling door cards and inner panels, the ripped headliner and boughs, the dented and rippled front bumper, the dulled and cracked grille and the one remaining headlight, while Peter continued taking apart the engine and Jonathan cut some rusted sections out of the floor and welded in some patch panels. He also taught Sasha how to weld up some of the small holes for trim fasteners on the body of the car, as Sasha mentioned she would omit the three chrome trim strips over the rear fender, as well as the rear wheelwell covers.
The cracked double windshield was taken out as well as the cracked rear window and any remnants of dry, crumbly weather stripping, and while Jonathan started running new metal brake lines and fuel lines and Peter did a simple dingleball honing of the cylinders in the engine block, Sasha started going around the body of the car with a hammer and dolly to take out all the dents as best as she could manage. She also took both men to lunch at the Marm's Munchies diner, and by the time dinnertime started approaching, Peter and Jonathan almost had the engine put back together with almost all new parts and the three European hamster sisters Warmelink had stopped by to deliver the two front bucket seats, door cards, interior panels and headliner with new boughs, Sasha halted her work of sanding the surface rust and remnants of old dark green paint off the car to call Buddleia.
It took a few rings before the line was answered, and Buddleia's voice sounded from Sasha's phone a little distantly, accompanied by the rumble of a diesel engine.
"Sasha, yes, hello? I in the truck, I not hear you very good."
"I'll speak up a bit," Sasha said out loud and with a smile. "I'm guessing you're on your way to the sawmill with those dead trees?"
"Yes! Jack help me load them, I got them all. Is big load, Sasha! Lots wood, and most is okay, no cracks or rot, yes!"
"That sounds great, babe. Are you all done with Dan's job now?"
"Yes, I got all dead trees cut down he wanted! I go back to farm when I done at sawmill, yes!"
"Awesome, that works out great. Because I'm still in town, babe, we ran into a little problem. I asked Peter to have a look at old Emmie because she was smoking so badly last week." Sasha sent the two men a quick, silent wink. "He started fixing it, but we're missing a couple of gaskets that won't be here until tomorrow. But because we already took out the old ones, Emmie is kinda immobile now so I'm gonna have to stay here overnight. So you'll have to milk Choco tonight and tomorrow morning and take care of the chickens and the bunnies and the bales tomorrow morning."
"Oh! Okay, yes, I can do, Sasha. Is big problem with Emmie? She okay?"
"She's fine, babe, don't worry. It's not even so much of a problem as more an inconvenience. Me and Emmie will be back home tomorrow afternoon, okay? Hey, and when you're at the sawmill, tell Fred that trailer is coming in super handy right now for that donor car Peter found for me."
"Okay, yes, I do, Sasha! He like to hear! I see you tomorrow, yes! You behave in town tonight, yee hee!"
"I'll probably behave myself better than you used to do here in town, fuzzbutt, haha! See you tomorrow."
The contact was cut, and both men chuckled softly as Sasha slipped her phone back into a pocket of her shorts.
"So I'm guessing Buddly is not aware of all the work we're doing here, huh?" Jonathan grinned.
"Nope, as I mentioned to Peter last week, it's a bit of a surprise Valentine's gift for her," Sasha nodded with a chortle.
"Very convenient that a job came up for her to do just today," Peter remarked with a chuckle.
Sasha laughed softly and winked.
"Super convenient, yes; I texted Dan last week with the request, 'keep Leia busy next Friday', so he came up with a contract job for her to do that sounded perfectly legit."
Both men laughed as well. They quickly got back to work however, finishing up the assembling of the engine and then helping Sasha finish up the bodywork on the car until she deemed it good enough. The hood was installed back on its hinges, after which Sasha gave the whole car a layer of high-fill primer inside and out. Only when that was finished, she took both men to the diner again to have a late dinner, and even to the tavern afterwards for a couple of drinks so they could pass enough time for the primer to dry and cure just enough.
Working somewhat late into the night, they gave the primered car another once-over with some sanding, and Sasha gave it three layers of the single-stage dark Emerald green paint inside and out, managing to finish up just before midnight. Peter and Jonathan walked her to the tavern on their way home, so the freckled human woman could take a room for the night and get some well-deserved sleep.
The next morning, Sasha was up almost unnaturally late; a bit before nine o'clock in the morning. She had a quick shower, put her clothes back on, had breakfast at the diner and calmly walked over to the garage. Peter and Jonathan were already at work, lifting the refreshed engine back into the old Chevrolet as the paint had cured overnight. Sasha quickly joined them, beginning to put everything back on and in the car, again working from the back forwards to not be in the way of Peter and Jonathan bolting down the engine and reconnecting everything. By the time the tall human woman had screwed new small round chrome mirrors onto the drip rails over the front vent windows and clipped the two sets of three polished stainless steel trim strips onto the rear part of the bulbous front fenders and the parts of the front fenders that extended into the doors, the two men had gotten the engine running and were setting the timing and air-fuel mixture.
Peter left Jonathan to fine-tune the engine while he walked over to the tire mounting machine himself and put the whitewall snow tires on the painted rims and inflated them. While Sasha worked inside the car to put all the gauges, knobs and levers back in place, as well as the interior panels, the headliner, the window regulators and door windows and vent windows, door cards, window cranks and door handles, Peter rebuilt the brakes with new hardware, shoes, wheel cylinders, brake hoses and drums and bled the brakes, then bolted the wheels back on and even clipped small chrome baby moon hubcaps onto them - although he did not add trim rings as those were one of the additions Sasha had omitted. Jonathan in the meantime finished with the engine and started putting in the rear side windows, the rear window and the double windshield, followed by Peter installing the windshield wipers, new front grille, headlights, hood ornament and badges and a new chrome front bumper.
A few new holes had to be drilled into the floor of the car for the brackets of the bucket seats, and the holes got a spritz of the satin black rust-stopping paint before Sasha bolted in the brackets, then the seats. Once the freckled human woman was done inside the car, Jonathan lifted it way up into the air on the lift so he could install a full new stainless steel exhaust system and a new fuel tank. With the car back down on the ground, all the wiring was checked, a few bad connections and grounds were fixed, and all the fuses were replaced after they had popped the moment the battery was connected as they had forgotten that converting the system from six volt to twelve volt also changed it from a positive ground to a negative ground. But with that whoopsie properly taken care of and everything once again checked over, a systems check came out positive as everything worked the way it was supposed to; headlights, high-beams, brake lights, turn signals, all the interior and dash lights, windshield wipers which had been converted from vacuum-operation to a 12-volt electric motor, even a new horn and a brand new vintage-look radio.
All the fluids were topped off, the fuel tank was filled, and they took the old Chevrolet around the small village a couple of times for a test drive to see if all the mechanicals worked as well as the electricals. The manual gearbox was still a bit spongy but deemed good enough as it had always been that way, the brakes stopped the car with just a medium touch to the pedal, and the engine purred like a very content kitten without any smoke from the tailpipe. Back at the garage, Peter put the finishing touch on old Emmie by taking her old, faded license plates with the curled and folded-over corners from the old bumpers and screwing them onto the new bumpers, so the car still retained somewhat of its old spirit despite its gleaming new look.
Sasha also put the newly painted roof rack back onto the roof and very happily shook the paws of the deer mouse man and the Steppe wolf man.
"God damn that has been some awesome work, fellows!" she smiled. "Thank you ever so much! I could not have done this without you guys!"
"It has been our pleasure, Sasha," Jonathan smiled.
"Yeah, it was like revitalizing a piece of this place's history, and it's been a ton of fun," Peter nodded. "And hey, you did awesome work too! Where did you learn how to paint like that?"
"Fossil City community service," Sasha grinned. "I was a ba-a-ad girl when I lived in the city, fellows, I've been arrested more times than I care to count for being drunk and disorderly in public. At one point I was sentenced to three months of community service, which consisted of removing graffiti. Most of the times, that was done by painting over it, and we did that with super big and heavy paint guns."
"Ha ha ha!" Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. "Man, that's wild! But hey, least you could put it to good use in this case."
"Yeah, it's a skill I never thought would come in handy later, but it's sure come in handy when fixing up our farm and the vehicles, and now old Emmie here," Sasha nodded with a chortle.
"Haha, well, who knows we may call upon you if we ever need a car painted," Peter chuckled. "Hey, and do let us know what Buddly said when she sees the car!"
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that when we're in town next week to pick up our mail and revenue, you'll find her storming in here to squish you both into a huge bear hug," Sasha chortled. "But speaking of picking up mail and revenue, I'd better go and do that and get our weekly groceries and pick up the equipment I ordered as well. It's already nearing lunchtime again, and it's still a huge long drive back to our farm after all."
"Of course!" Jonathan nodded. "You go and do your chores, Sasha, you have a farm to tend to and all! Tell Buddly hi from us, and we'll see you next week!"
"Count on it," Sasha nodded with a smile. "Again, thank you so, so very much, you guys. I'm sure Leia will bring you some gifts next week along with a spine-crumbling bear hug, haha!"
They all laughed cheerfully, and Peter helped Sasha back up to and connect the flat trailer with the wrecked Citroen 2CV6 on it. Leaving the old Chevrolet where it was for a few moments after that, the tall human woman quickly made her round through the village, picking up the mail - which indeed contained a large number of Valentine's cards - and the two large boxes containing a milk boiler and a cheese press at the post office, picking up the revenue of the sold goat cheeses and the weekly groceries at the general store, picking up the few additional pieces of equipment at the dairy store, and picking up a cute small Valentine's Day cake at the bakery.
With everything that needed to be picked up and brought home to the farm in the car, Sasha calmly drove out of the small village and down the dirt road. After taking the right turn at the triangular junction, the freckled human gradually pressed down the accelerator more and more and smiled to herself at the way old Emmie behaved. It seemed like the trailer holding a wrecked car wasn't even there, the engine hummed a cheerful song without missing a beat, the ride was surprisingly smooth across the wide dirt road as the old Chevrolet easily did over 60mph without even breaking a sweat.
That meant Sasha arrived back at Butterfly Farm in only three hours instead of the usual three and a half to four hours the trip to and from the village usually took. Her calm smile turned into a cheerful grin as she turned into the driveway, a laugh escaping her at the sight of Buddleia laying on the chest and tummy of her quadruped lower body by the rabbit runs and hutches, but jolting upright to her four feral feet and staring with her muzzle hanging open and her golden eyes round and wide as she saw Sasha coming up the driveway in the dark green Chevrolet. She cheerfully beeped the horn as she rolled past the stunned vixen-taur and parked in the large open area in front of the large shed.
Buddleia slowly turned and followed, gasping squeaky sounds with her muzzle still hanging open and her eyes still wide and round while Sasha got out of the car and smiled widely.
"Heya fuzzbutt, I'm home," she stated cheerily.
"Sah... ash... Sashah..?" Buddleia squeaked. "Is... old Emmie..? What you do..?"
Sasha stepped up to Buddleia and wrapped an arm around the staring vulpine taur's upper shoulders with a smile.
"That's still old Emmie alright, babe. I fibbed a little when I said I had Peter look at that smoking issue, heh. He and Jonathan and I did a bunch of work to her to make her look all nice again and be all healthy and fresh again. I really felt she deserved it for being such a loyal worker of this farm for over seven decades, and I really wanted to do it for you too, my sweet soft fuzzbutt. Call it a Valentine's Day surprise."
"Sashaaaaa!" Buddleia yelped, turning a bit to take Sasha into a close, tight hug, her deep golden eyes shining with unshed happy tears. "You make me cry! You so sweet! Nnyeeeee! Lookit! Is old Emmie! Nnnyeeeee! She look like I remember! Like when grandmother take me to school when I little pup! Sashaaa! Thank thank thank thank thank! Thank so much for all the evers! Nnnyeeeee!"
Sasha held the trembling vixen-taur close with both arms wrapped close around Buddleia's upper shoulders and softly nuzzled and smooched at the plushy ear from which the bright blue feather was dangling.
"You're so very super welcome, my big sweet fuzzbutt," she murmured in between smooches, softly rubbing both hands up and down along Buddleia's upper back. "Happy Valentine's Day. I brought you a treat."
She certainly did. In more ways than one.
