Shedding

By Agncec, 2023

DISCLAIMER! This work is not affiliated with DreamWorks in any way. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the movie. All events herein are purely fictional and sprung from the writer's imagination. The mirror Earth where the story takes place is different from ours (although there are overlaps), so if you enjoy things "dark and realistic" do not continue reading as you may find this disheartening.

This story plays out approximately ten years prior to the events of the movie.

"Ummm, you...got a problem, Wolf?"

Snake was looking away from the TV cooking show, distracted by the insistent scratching sound.

"It's that time of the year." Wolf ran his claws behind the left ear like crazy. "But it's never been this bad before. Damn!"

"Hey!" Tarantula exclaimed when a fur tuft came to land across her keyboard.

"Sorry Webs, can't help it! Stupid biological functions!" Wolf growled, the itch moving to the back of his head now. "If my hide didn't insist on growing a useless winter coat... I don't even need it! Shit..."

"Don't take it personally, but I am going to move from here, to over there." Tarantula said and put a sizable distance between them. "You SURE you haven't got fleas?"

Wolf froze up and shot her a frantic, terrified look.

"Excuse me!"

Still scratching himself, Wolf dashed off towards the bathroom, a hairy cloud floating gently in his wake.

"If the bugs got him we're gonna have to unleash chemical warfare, not only on them, but this entire place." Snake said with a grimace. "Won't that be fun!"

"How long will he keep shedding?" Tarantula asked, having never witnessed the phenomenon before.

"Two weeks, give or take a few days."

"Wow! Furbearers have it pretty bad."

"Yup."

Meanwhile, Wolf busied himself in the bathroom inspecting the fine brushes and combs under the lamp. Seeing no signs of the repugnant pests haunting everyone with fur relieved him. Still, the itch was maddening and only a very rough brush could somewhat soothe it. As long as fleas weren't the cause he would stand it.

Or so he thought.

"That's it!" Snake, bleary-eyed after a night without sleep, glared at his roommate. "When we find a decent lair I'll have my own room and until your scratch fever is over I'll spend my nights elsewhere!"

"Come on man, it ain't THAT bad."

"Not that bad?!" Snake yelled, looking quite deranged. "All night I've had to listen to you grunting, thudding and scratching! I'm bunking with Shark!"

"I'm s-sorry, okay?"

The following week became a dire trial and the team had to get accustomed to the constant sound of nails digging into fur.

Wolf scratched himself during stake-outs, while driving and swerving dangerously, while watching TV. In the morning, in the afternoon, all day long. Hair was soon to be found everywhere and Wolf spent much time vacuuming - until the vacuum cleaner choked and refused to start again that is.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed in despair, paw working furiously across his chest.

Seeing his misery, the four friends tried being patient and indulgent, but sometimes things passed into absurdity.