Title: It’s A Dog’s Life

Author: Rita (dittypiddler)

Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. No infringement intended.

Summary: Lee and Amanda have "issues" with the newest member of the Stetson household. The second installment in the "Scooter" series.

Timeframe: Post fourth season. Four years after the marriage.

Thanks to Taya, Cheryl, Lisa, and The Kris for the beta.

Rating: PG, for some mild swearing.

Feedback: Always

"Stetson! Scooter did a doodle on my brand new carpet!"

"Aw, Scooter. Not again." Lee groaned and glared at the miniature wrecking machine--cleverly disguised as an innocent puppy.

Scooter stopped slurping water and cocked his ears. Shaking his head and spattering droplets of water on the kitchen floor, he trotted over, sat at Lee’s feet, and lifted his front paw, a pleading look in his soft brown eyes.

"Ah, well." He shook the furry paw and scratched behind the pup’s silky ears. "Accidents happen. Huh, pal?"

He grabbed the carpet cleaner and scrub brush and hurried to the den, with Scooter nipping at his heels.

Shaking the pooch off his pant leg, Lee slid to a stop inside the door. Her hands on her hips, Amanda pinned him with an ominous glare. Uh-oh. She looked ready to neuter them both.

"Lee, you simply must train that . . . that . . . rogue!" She gestured toward the newest yellowish stain on the beige carpet. "Just look at that! I’m running out of patience with Scooter. And you."

"I know, honey. And I’ve tried, I really have. He just doesn’t seem to get it." Lee fidgeted in the face of his wife’s wrath, then turned on the Stetson charm. Taking advantage of her weakness for his dimples, he smiled and hugged her. "After all, he’s just a baby."

She wiggled out of his arms and clutched his shoulder. He followed her wide-eyed gaze to the puppy--who was happily chewing on Phillip’s leather baseball glove. "Scooter!" Muttering a few choice expletives, he dove for the glove, then turned to deliver yet another lecture to his furry friend.

The scamp had miraculously vanished.

"Where did he go?"

"There." Amanda pointed to the sofa and clapped her hand over her mouth, not quite stifling a giggle.

A pair of dark eyes peered from under the couch, then disappeared, leaving a black nose and slender muzzle the only evidence of Scooter’s hiding place.

Evidently his buddy believed if he couldn’t see Lee, Lee couldn’t see him.

He laughed in spite of himself and peeked under the sofa. "All right, you hairy Houdini. Come on out. I won’t skin you alive. This time. But if you don’t leave Phillip’s glove alone, he will."

Scooter crawled from his refuge and rolled onto his back, his tongue lolling and eyes dancing with mischief.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He scratched the little rascal’s wooly belly.

The pup licked his hand and nibbled his fingers.

"You and Scooter are going to do your homework, that’s what." Amanda handed him a book. "I bought you a present."

"‘How to Train Your Best Friend.’" He flipped through the illustrated pages and grinned at her. "Is this how you trained me?" Book or no book, she’d reformed him, and, if he could be reformed, there had to be hope for Scooter.

"That’s need-to-know, big fella." Her lips twitched, and she nodded toward the carpet. "Right now, you have a mission to accomplish."

"Yes, ma’am." Clearing his throat, he gathered his cleaning supplies and went to work, nudging his pet out of the way.

Scooter sniffed the stain and assumed a familiar position.

"Oh, no you don’t!" He grabbed the puppy in mid-squat and dashed for the back door. His wife’s muffled laughter followed him through the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~

Lee sprawled in his favorite easy chair, draping his leg over the arm, and thumbed through the pages of what he was sure would become his regular reading material. "Okay, here we go. Housebreaking. ‘Watch for telltale signs, such as sniffing the carpet, and always take your puppy out the same door.’ Hmmm. Sounds simple enough, huh, pal?" He glanced at Scooter, curled in front of the fire chewing on a Nylabone.

Scooter wagged his tail, apparently in full agreement.

"‘Take the puppy out thirty minutes after each meal and at regular intervals.’ Great advice. Except when did you ever wait thirty minutes? Or have regular intervals?"

Scooter ambled over, vaulted into Lee’s lap, and licked his face.

"Okay, okay." He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve and settled the pooch against his chest. "I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go."

"Oh my gosh! LEE!"

At his wife’s strangled cry, he jolted upright, pushed Scooter aside, and leaped to his feet, reaching for his gun. No gun. Cursing, he raced up the stairs and collided with Amanda in the hallway. "What happened?" he gasped.

Her eyes blazing, she steered him to the bathroom door. "Scooter happened!"

"Oh, crap." Lee studied the deep scratches in the wood and flecks of white paint covering the carpet and raked his fingers through his hair. Noting her flushed cheeks and crossed arms, he faced Amanda’s ire with a weak laugh. "Ahhh . . . you know, honey, uh, I have been trying to teach him to, um, go to the bathroom." His smile faded when her elbow jabbed into his ribs. Judging by her expression, she wasn’t amused by his pathetic attempt at humor. When he thought about the sanding and painting he’d have to do, he didn’t find the latest Scooter-induced disaster amusing either.

~~~~~~~~

"Scooter, will you get out of there? You’re scattering the leaves faster than I can rake them." Lee shooed his pet aside. "I don’t need your help right now, fella." He scraped the rake around the grape arbor, gathering the dry leaves into a tidy pile. The paint on the old arbor had started to fade and flake a bit, so that would be his next project. Amanda loved the view of the white arbor, as it gleamed in the morning sunlight. And he loved to make his wife happy. Although he took as much pride in their little piece of paradise as she did. Perhaps more.

If somebody had told him eight years ago that the suave, debonair Scarecrow, who spent his days chasing bad guys and his nights chasing women, would become a happily married man, he would’ve laughed. Some of his old drinking and poker-playing cronies had been astounded when he’d given up the carefree nightlife--and the women--for a brown-eyed suburban housewife.

But when Amanda had come barreling into his life, she’d shown him the value of milk and cookies. And hot chocolate with marshmallows.

Admiring the neatly raked leaves, clean gutters, and stacked firewood, he shook his head and grinned. These days, he spent his weekends as a handyman, instead of a nightclub-hopper.

He looked up at the whitecap clouds floating across the sea of blue sky. A nip in the pine-scented air promised another chilly night. Too early for frost, though. But he’d better give the horses an extra ration of oats tonight. Old man Dryer had promised to deliver the hay by the end of the month. He glanced toward the stable. Preparing the hayloft was another thing on his to-do list.

Scanning the yard, he spotted Scooter by the split rail fence chewing on his stuffed squeaky bear. Good. Maybe that would keep the little fur-ball out of mischief for a while.

His gaze came to rest on his wife. As he watched Amanda methodically work her trowel through the barren soil under the bay window, he smiled and leaned on his rake. She was amazing--spy by day, wife and mother by night, enthusiastic gardener on weekends. In the spring, the flowerbed would bloom with daffodils, crocus, and tulips of every color.

She suddenly dropped the trowel and leaned over, plucking something from the dirt. When she straightened, her back stiff and her left fist on her hip, Lee felt a sense of foreboding. Uh-oh. Scooter, no doubt. He hurried over to see how much trouble the puppy was in this time.

"Lee!" Amanda held up what looked like shriveled blobs of dried onions.

"You’re planting onions, honey?" He raised his eyebrows.

"They’re not onions," she scoffed. "They’re what’s left of my hyacinth bulbs. Scooter dug them up! It’s just lucky he didn’t eat them, or he’d be an ex-dog."

"Ah, hell." Lee rubbed the back of his neck and gave her an apologetic smile. "I won’t let him out alone again, until I can put some wire or something over the bed to keep him out of it. And I’ll help you replant them."

"Looks like you have your own Scooter problems, Stetson." She grinned and pointed behind him.

He turned to find the puppy jubilantly springing from one heap of leaves to another and sending them flying. A sudden gust of wind blew the scraps of brown and orange across the yard again.

"Scooter!" He stalked toward the dog, intending to deliver a lecture designed to make raw recruits shake in their shoes.

The playful pooch dove into a large mass of leaves and disappeared, except for a twitching black nose on one end and a waving plumed tail on the other.

"At least you left one pile intact, you little villain!" Lee picked up his rake and went back to work, promising himself to deliver that well-deserved lecture later. And buy his wife some new . . . what had she called those bulbs? No matter. He’d just buy her some of everything. The garden supply store would love him.

Well, he had a wife and family he cherished and the home he’d always longed for. Glancing at the impish brown eyes peeking out at him, he chuckled and stuffed the newly raked leaves into a trash bag. And he had Scooter.

~~~~~~~~

Tightening his arms around his wife, Lee yawned and snuggled under the comforter, closing his eyes.

Hot breath tickled his ear.

"Mmmm. Again? You know I’m always willing, baby," he mumbled. With a drowsy chuckle, he turned to her and felt her warm, moist tongue caress the back of his neck.

"Huh?" The back of his neck?

His eyes flew wide open. He jerked his head sideways and met two bright eyes. "Damn it, Scooter, I was half-asleep," he grumbled. "What do you think you’re doing?"

Amanda giggled and rolled onto her back. "Maybe he wants to go out. I guess your training is finally paying off, Stetson." She gently punched his arm. "Way to go, big fella."

"Yeah, in the middle of the night. This little devil has the worst timing. And he’s having way too much fun at my expense." Rubbing his eyes, he dragged himself from the warmth of their bed and slipped on his jeans and sweater. "God, talk about a dog’s life. Keep my place warm, okay?" He gave her a peck on the lips and toed into his shoes. "Let’s go, boy."

Scooter hopped off the bed and frisked to the door, wagging his tail.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lee hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, shivering as an icy blast of wind cut through his clothing. "Come on, Scooter. How long does it take?"

Scooter sniffed the base of a pine tree and moved on.

"I’ve never seen such a finicky dog in my life! One tree is as good as another, fella."

Wagging his tail, the puppy nosed around a maple tree and moseyed over to an oak.

"Scooter," he pleaded. "I’m freezing. Will you just do your business, so we can go back inside before I turn into a Popsicle? Please? I’ll buy you a whole truckload of Jerky Treats."

With a burst of frenzied yapping, Scooter bounded around the oak three times, skidded to a stop, and jumped up on the tree, barking at something nestled in the top branches.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you crazy pup! It’s just an old bird’s nest or something. There’s nothing there for you to chase." Lee adopted the tone he used to grill KGB agents. "Scooter," he jabbed his finger at the puppy, "go potty."

Scooter obediently lifted his hind leg and obliged.

"Well, how about that? I guess you do know who’s boss, huh?" He patted the dog’s head. "Good boy!"

A flash of white streaked across his path, and, with a happy yip, Scooter scampered after it.

"Scooter, NO! Come back here! Leave that cat alone! Come back, you little monster!" He bolted after his wayward friend.

~ ~ ~ ~

Checking behind every tree, Lee plodded through the oak grove, the old children’s rhyme sing-songing through his head.

"Good Lord, Stetson. You’re losing it." He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Scooter!" If he ever found his little dog, he wouldn’t promise not to skin him alive. No, not this time. He called and whistled and finally heard an answering bark. Emerging from the trees, he glimpsed moonlight shining on golden hair.

The fugitive stood by the lakeshore, calmly lapping water.

"Come on, you son of a thousand demons. Let’s go home." Lee pivoted and strode back toward the trees, with the prodigal pooch frolicking behind him.

~~~~~~~~

Amanda closed her book and glanced at the clock. Lee should’ve returned from his evening walk with Scooter by now. She smiled to herself. Even though she enjoyed teasing her husband about his buddy’s antics, she adored the little scalawag as much as he did. Remembering the contents of the trash can strewn across her freshly mopped kitchen floor and the chewed-up sofa cushions, she grimaced. Well, almost as much.

What was that awful smell? She pinched her nose between her finger and thumb and hurried to the kitchen to investigate. Confronted with the source of the foul odor, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

A handkerchief tied behind his head, covering his nose and mouth, her usually fastidiously groomed husband limped across the floor, holding a bedraggled and reeking Scooter at arm’s length. Lee’s jeans were covered with dirt and specks of dried leaves, his torn coat sleeve dangled from his arm, and his hair stood on end.

"Oh my gosh! What happened?" Her eyes burned and watered. She clapped her hand over her mouth, gagging.

"Don’t ask!" he sputtered, coughing and choking. "Do we have any tomato juice?"

She inched to his side and pulled the handkerchief down. "Tomato juice?"

"Yeah, tomato juice!" Tears streamed down his face; his eyes watered worse than hers did. "This fool ran off into the woods and straight into a skunk!" He choked again, and she patted him on the back.

"Oh, Lord! But why are you limping?" She followed him into the laundry room.

"I twisted my ankle and fell when I tried to rescue Scooter and keep him from chasing the skunk." He unceremoniously dumped the puppy into the large utility sink and coughed. "Will you please get the tomato juice before I lose my dinner?"

"Uh, yeah." Keeping a safe distance, Amanda smothered a laugh and looked from her scowling husband to the forlorn victim of ‘essence de skunk.’ "Looks like you barked up the wrong tree this time, Scooter. It’s never a good idea to seek revenge against Pepe LaPhew." She darted back to the kitchen, ignoring the rude language coming from the laundry room.

~ ~ ~ ~

Three cans of tomato juice later, Lee scrutinized the red-lathered little beast and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Aw, Scooter." Well, he’d wanted a dog. But sometimes he wondered if he’d bonded with the hound from hell.

Scooter gave him a soulful look and a half-hearted wag of his tail.

"Sweetheart, this isn’t going to work." Amanda lowered her makeshift mask and bit her lip.

"Yeah, I know." He dodged as Scooter shook himself, spraying tomato juice in every direction. As the thickened solution trickled down his bare chest, Lee grimaced and dabbed at the juice with the sponge. "But I’ve always heard that’s what to use for skunk odor. It could be an old wives tale, for all I know. And I still have to bury my clothes. Or burn them. I haven’t decided which." Wrinkling his nose, he glanced at his blotchy skin and groaned, running his hand through his hair. "I’ll never get the smell off me."

She snickered, and he glared at her. "What’s so funny? I find nothing amusing about this situation."

"You look like you’ve been scalped." Amanda pointed to his head. "You have tomato juice in your hair."

"Oh, great." When Scooter sent another shower of juice his way, he ducked and almost lost the towel knotted around his waist. "Scooter! Hold still, damn it!" He worked the juice into a foam and scrubbed his woeful-looking pet for a few more minutes, then dropped the sponge in disgust. "Amanda, what in the hell are we going to do?"

"I’m gonna call Dr. Anderson. Surely, a vet will know." She wiped her hands and disappeared into the kitchen.

Resting his arms on the sink, Lee regarded Scooter with a half smile. The puppy was truly a pitiful sight---red-splattered fur plastered to his skin, tail tucked between his legs, head drooping. "I love you, boy, I really do. But you’d try the patience of a saint. And, God knows, I’m no saint." He picked up the sponge and went to work on the pungent pup again.

Amanda returned and handed him a bottle of shampoo. "I reached Dr. Anderson at home. After he stopped laughing, he told me regular flea shampoo works best. There’s something in the ingredients that neutralizes the odor." She motioned to the malodorous miscreant. "But you’ll have to rinse him off first."

"Now she tells me." He turned on the sprayer and began the task of de-skunking Scooter.

~~~~~~~~

Lee closed the back door and braced for the nightly assault. Right on schedule, Scooter raced across the kitchen floor, skidded on the polished linoleum, bounced off the cabinet, and hurled himself into his arms. He tilted his head back, in an effort to avoid the lapping tongue washing his face and neck.

"Okay, boy. I’m glad to see you, too." He gave Scooter a hug and deposited him on the floor. After disentangling his shoelace from the puppy’s teeth, he moved to the sink and wiped his face with a damp paper towel. "Sorry, buddy. But I don’t think Amanda would approve of your version of personal hygiene. And I’d like to kiss my wife."

"Your wife would like to be kissed."

He jumped and whirled to face a grinning Amanda. "Hey! I’m the one who’s supposed to sneak up on you, remember?" He slipped his arms around her and kissed her soundly.

"I’m a spy, too, you know." She laughed and ruffled his hair. "I can be pretty sneaky. Or maybe you were distracted by your furry friend."

Lee glanced at Scooter, now lying on his back and waving his paws, and rubbed the pup’s round tummy. "Yeah, he can be a distraction, all right. But so can you, my love." Placing his hands around her waist, he kissed the tip of her nose and nuzzled her ear.

Chuckling, she pulled back and poked his chest. "I hope my distraction isn’t quite the same as that mischief-maker’s. Let’s go relax for a while. Dinner isn’t ready yet. I wasn’t expecting you home this early. You can tell me about your meeting with Dr. Smyth, and I’ll tell you about Scooter’s activities while we were at work." She cocked her head at the puppy. "I found the evidence."

"Oh, God. I don’t think I wanna know." He rubbed his hand over his forehead and followed her down the hall and into the living room, with Scooter romping beside him.

When he flopped onto the couch, Scooter jumped into his lap. "Give me a break, will you, pal? I’d like to spend some time with my wife." He lifted the dog to the floor and reached for the lamp switch.

"Oh, don’t bother, sweetheart." Amanda indicated the frayed lamp cord--minus the plug-in.

"How does he keep from being electrocuted? That’s what I’d like to know!" Lee clutched his head and glared at the little hooligan.

The puppy wagged his tail and rested his muzzle on his front paws--the picture of innocence.

"A few lamps ago, he learned to pull the plug out of the socket before he starts chewing. He never bothers the cord when the lamp’s turned on."

"Hmmm. Smart boy." He gazed at his pet with a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and a tinge of pride.

"Mmm-hmm." Her voice held a distinct lack of admiration for Scooter’s talents. "And we won’t be watching TV tonight."

"Oh, my God," he groaned. "Not the TV cord, too." His fleeting pride in his hairy friend evaporated.

"Nope. Just the antenna wire. But Phillip and Jamie will not be happy when they come home tomorrow. And if Mother can’t watch her soap operas when she gets back from New York next week--"

"I know, I know. I’ll get it fixed by then. The boys will have to make do with the portable set for now." He glowered at the pseudo-innocent puppy. "Damn it, Scooter. I don’t need to worry about enemy agents. You’re gonna be the death of me!"

Scooter lay stretched out in front of the stone fireplace, snoring gently.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Dinner was great, honey." Lee sank onto the couch and pulled his wife close. "You do amazing things with meatloaf." He kissed her lightly and winked. "You’re going to turn me into a fat old man yet."

Amanda laughed and rolled her eyes. "I seriously doubt that, Stetson." Snuggling closer, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he tightened his arms around her. "You know, sweetheart, it’s awfully quiet." She raised her head and met his gaze. "Where’s Scooter?"

"Hey, don’t jinx it. We don’t have that much opportunity to be completely alone, if you know what I mean." Lee kissed her cheek and nibbled her ear. "No Dotty." He kissed her neck. "No boys." He kissed her lips. "And no Scooter." When he leaned in to kiss her again, she placed her hand on his chest.

"I know, sweetheart, and, as much as I like where this is going, I worry when that dog is this quiet."

Scooter appeared in the doorway, his face and most of his body covered with a white, powdery substance, and what looked like a soggy hunk of leather clamped in his teeth.

Amanda jerked up. "Oh my gosh, he’s been into the flour! Lee! Isn’t that one of your new running shoes? Or rather, what’s left of it!"

Lee sprang from the couch and lunged for the scoundrel. "SCOOTER!"

But Scooter had vanished up the stairs, leaving a white cloud in his wake.

The End