After an early retirement, Theodore grapples with rebuilding his relationship with his son and navigating his new queer identity in his 50s.

Today’s story is “Theodore Has a Boyfriend Now” by Cardigan, a bull who makes, translates and reviews Furry writing and games. This story is part of the anthology Tales from the Guild - Blood and Water available from Fenris Publishing.

Read by Apollo Brightmane.

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https://thevoice.dog/episode/theodore-has-a-boyfriend-now-by-cardigan

You’re

listening

to

Pride

Month

on

The

Voice

of

Dog.

This

is

Rob

MacWolf,

your

fellow

traveler,

and

Today’s

story

is “Theodore

has

a

boyfriend

now”

by

Cardigan, who self-publishes short stories and interactive fiction. His current project, Four Seasons Apart, brings us to late Victorian England where forbidden love blossoms against all odds.

It can be tempting to think of the task of familial acceptance as always pointing a certain specific direction. We have always the plethora of stories of parents learning to accept queer children, grandparents to accept queer grandchildren. But queer identity is not reserved for a particular age, nor are parents the only ones who may need to learn acceptance.

Read by Ta’kom Ironhoof, the Equine Charmer.

Please enjoy


“Theodore

has

a

boyfriend

now”

by

Cardigan

The

first

rays

of

sunlight

barely

scraped

his

grizzled

face

when

Theodore

woke

up.

Before

the

dog

even

opened

his

eyes,

he

knew

the

exact

time.

Six-thirty

AM;

that

small

piece

of

information

had

been

etched

into

the

back

of

his

eyelids. “Time

for

work,”

his

brain

concluded.
Except,

not

quite,

not

anymore.

He

had

yet

to

adjust

his

biological

clock

to

the

simple

truth

that

Theodore

Harris

was

now

retired.

Few

can

claim

an achievement like being retired at 52,

but

the

Bernese

had

given

years

of his

life for such a situation. If

only

he

could

fully

enjoy

that

feat.
Nature

or

nurture,

Theo

never

shirked

or

feared

work.

From

his

first

retail

job,

to

the

seat

of

business

advisor,

he

always

found

fulfillment

in

his

role.

However,

that

drive

also

came

at

great

cost. More than

time and effort, he had sacrificed relationships and health for that early retirement. Theodore woke

up

each

morning

thanking

God

for

the

bonds

that

still

remained

in

his life; mostly for his son not hating him, despite everything.
The synapses

of

his

brain

that

prepared

him

for

a

premature

awakening,

also

made

him

squirm,

breaking the inertia under

covers.

For

some

fifteen

years,

such

a

move

would

have

no

ramifications,

that

morning however, that would be someone else’s

involuntary

alarm.
He

turned

his

face

to

the

other

side

of

the bed completely aware of what he had done. At first, the coiled horns

peeking

from

under the blanket lied still, but soon, they too would twitch into an awakening.
Coming out of his stupor, the dog’s face betrayed his guilt, settling instead on

a

groggy

smile

at

how

adorable

the

black

goat

looked

coming back

to

the

land

of

the

living.
“Did

I

wake you up?” the canine managed to push out his muzzle. “Sorry.”
As the caprine,

Anton,

met

the

dog’s

gaze,

more

of

his

slender

build

met

the

early

morning

air. “Is

fine…”

he

mumbled

back

before

a

yawn. “Y’okay?”
With a sigh,

Theodore

yawned through

his

nose. “Yeah,

I’m

fine.”
Dissatisfied

with

such

a

response,

the slowly rising

goat

pushed his

body

onto

the

dog’s,

enveloping

him

with

limp

limbs. “Then, let’s just go

back

to

sleep,

mkay?”
Before

the

canine

could

formulate

a

response,

his

partner

returned

to

slumber,

leaving

the

Bernese

to

his

thoughts

once

more.
How

handsome

the

other

man

looked

gave

him

pause.

Gray

hair

aside,

the

goat

barely

looked

two

years

his

senior.

Especially

not

when

that

lean

build

wrapped

itself

around

Theo’s

more

age-appropriate

beer

gut.

Those

feelings

aside,

the caprine

was

beautiful

and

he

couldn’t

stop

himself

from

embracing

back—now

careful

not to

wake

him

again.
Just

a

month

prior,

he

would

never

have

seen

himself

sharing

a

bed

with

a man (let alone all the action from the previous night), but it

all

seemed

much

more

natural

now.

Since

their

first

encounter,

the

dog

had

progressed

much

in

regards

to

accepting

his sexuality,

and

yet

the

road

forwards

seemed

to

wind

so

much

more…

Thankfully,

having

someone

as

sweet

and

understanding

as

Anton

made

it

less

daunting.

So,

if

only

for

that

morning,

he

let

go

of

worries

and

shame.

Let

himself

embrace

and

be

embraced.

Let

six-thirty

become

seven

without him.
***
Eventually, the couple would be forced to surrender to the passage of time. At around eight,

the

goat

remembered

he

had

some

commitments

that very

morning.

Though

he

said

so

with

much

urgency,

the

dog

had

to

be

the

one

to

pry

him

from the warm snare of a comfortable bed.
While the caprine committed to a shower, the

retired

canine

saw

no

reason

to

change

from

his

white

tank

top

and

loose

boxers.

All

that

concealed

under

a

gray

bathrobe,

lest

he

subject

his

son

to

an

unseemly

visage—again.
He

got

to

the

kitchen

on

the

ground

floor,

and

pulled

up

yet

another

pancake

making

video.

Theodore

watched

the

portly

pomeranian

explain

the

process

completely

sure

this

time

he

wouldn’t

burn

them.

Or

make

them

too

wet.

Or

too

dry.
With

the

aid

of

the

enthusiastic

lady

on

his

phone

screen,

he

actually

managed

to

get

the

pancakes

just

the

way

he

wanted…

all

eighteen

of

them.

The

Bernese watched

the

hill

on

a

plate

with

disbelief

and

pride.

He

tried

to

adapt

the

recipe

for

three

people,

but

the

output—perfect

though

it

was—clearly

would

be

too

much

for

them.

The

dog

did

not

linger

in

his

half-failure

for

long,

as another presence reached the kitchen. A dog, barely

in

his

twenties

and

the

spitting

image

of

his

father, came in, poorly

hiding

his

interest

in

the

breakfast

scent

that

now

dominated the house. As a person with somewhere to be, he came down the stairs dressed to leave the house.
“Jason,” Theodore called,

barely

stopping

his

tail. “Good

morning! Did

you

sleep

well?”
His

son’s

movement

came

with

a

familiar

torpor. “I’m

fine,”

he

responded.
Usually,

the

father

would

let

his

child

know

of

the

many

great

benefits

of

early

sleep

and

early

rising,

but,

for

the

sake

of

his

perfect

creations,

he

relented.
“Look,”

the

older

man

said,

pulling

Mt.

Pancake

from

the

countertop. “I

made

pancakes!

And it’s probably

my

best

batch

yet!”
The

sight

proved

powerful

enough

to

rouse

the

boy’s

senses,

however

the

size

of

it

was…
“Yeah,” Theodore continued, “I may

have

overdone

it

with

the

portions…

but

the taste’s just right!”
That last sentence came punctuated with a chuckle, making Jason reconsider the situation.
“Sure, dad,” he said, awake in earnest. “I’ll have

four

please.”
A

brief

pause

took

over

the

room.
Theodore

cocked

his

head. “How

about

a

couple

more?”
“That’s

already

a

lot,

old

man!”
Sharing

laughter,

the older man

put

four—no

more,

no

less—on

a

plate,

while

the younger

fetched

a

cup

of

coffee

from

the

machine.
As

Theodore

set the pancakes on

the

kitchen

table,

he

caught a

glimpse

of

his

boy’s

face.

In that brief moment, the boy bore a peculiar expression. Lingering his sight on him, revealed a quivering

lower

lip

and

unsure eyes; Jason had something to say, something that wouldn’t come out easily.
Still new to

actual

parenthood,

the

older

Bernese

found

himself

at

a loss for words. He had identified the issue, but that proved to be merely half the battle. Should he make that center of the conversation? Or gently suggest he knows? Maybe allowing Jason to overcome such difficulty on his own would be best?
Before either

man

could

settle

on

a

reaction,

however,

the

sound of hooves came down the stairs. As Anton

reached

the

kitchen,

Theo

smiled

but

Jason

looked

away.
“Good

morning

you

two,”

said

the

caprine,

in

his

usual

peppiness. “Nothing

like

a

shower

in

the

morning,” he turned to the youth, “eh, J-man?”
“I guess,” came the dog’s distracted response.
Theodore already expected the flatness in his voice, however, given the talk they had less than a week prior, the disdain he would not tolerate. The younger dog—having foreseen a response—acted before his father could.
Jason picked

up

the

plate

and

turned

his

back

on

the

men. “I’m

gonna

eat

in

the

living

room.”
What

meek

anger

the

boy’s

first

reaction

elicited

in

Theodore,

mutated

into

inferiority

as

Jason

walked

away.

The

doubts

of

being

a

parent

paralyzed

him

for

too

long;

the

boy

was

unreachable

once again.
His body

leaned

back

and

the

kitchen

counter

caught

him

by

the

waist.

Rubbing his forehead, he almost forgot to check on the man that remained in the room. Theodore had the apology ready, but the goat smiled, shaking his head and hand, asking to drop the subject.
Sighing out his frustrations, the

Bernese

missed

the

caprine’s

approach,

noticing

Anton

only

after

his

hand

was

caught

and

given

a

little

smooch.

That

wouldn’t

quite

sate

his

heart,

but

served

to

make

him

grin.
They

followed

that

small

misadventure

with

some

quality

time

together.

Through

compliments

on

the

pancakes

and

other

sweet

words, however,

Theo’s gaze

often

strayed

back

to

the

boy

in

the living room. Reason told him there would be nothing to see, but louder emotion still yearned to watch over the little man. Anton could tell, and actually proved even wiser to what was happening than either of them.
Breakfast came to an end with the couple downing but six of the pancakes. As the goat went to leave, the dog convinced him to part with two more, a victory for Theodore.
The Bernese tapped Anton on the shoulder before he left. “Hey,” he

said,

leaning

on

the

doorframe. “Sorry,

about

earlier,

with

Jason.

I

just

don’t

know

what

to

do with him…”
Turning his whole body back, the goat

chuckled. “It’s

all

good,

man.

I

get

it.

First

your

old

man

comes

out

as

gay,

and

less

than

week

later

he’s

sleeping

with

some

guy?

I

would be guarded too.”
Theodore put on a pouting face. “You’re not ‘some guy’…”
“Hehe. Alright, Teddy bear.” He put his lips upon the dog’s, but did not leave enough time for tongues. “I’ll text you

when I

get home, okay?” he continued, walking to his car on the driveway.
With a sigh, Theodore surrendered to the only response available. “Okay,” he replied, closing the door once the engine started.
He returned to the house confronted by his son’s continued apathy. Perhaps it would be best to let the topic die for now, but curiosity, worry and shame conspired to revive it instead.
Theodore stood cross-armed beside the couch,

with

the

young man still not sparing him a glance.
“So,” he said, “want to

tell

me what just happened?”
Jason answered with a chug of the coffee mug and the turning

off of

the

TV. “Can’t,”

he

finally

spoke,

in

the

same

dispassion. “Gotta

go

to

school.”
Once

more,

the

older

man

could

only

watch

as

his

son

slipped

away

while

he

thought

of

a

reply.

Those

feelings

that

once

emboldened

him

into

confronting

his

son,

now

only

made

him

more

unsure

of

how

to

continue.

Slowly,

the

boy

crossed

a

chasm,

and

the

man

didn’t

have

the

right

words

to

stop

him.
A

flash

of

inspiration

hit him before any damage was done. Those may not

have

been

the right

words

for the moment, but

he

wouldn’t

let

that

get

in

the

way

of

their

relationship.
Theodore’s

stern

voice

blared

from

his

muzzle,

powerful

enough

to

stop

the

young

man

in

his

tracks,

but

not

enough

to

make

him

turn. “Jason, "

he

said, “you

know

I

love

you,

right?”
The

son

stood

still

for a moment, unknowable gears spinning inside his head in silence. After a pause, he responded while gripping the strap of his bag. “Y-Yeah.

Love you

too,

dad.”
With

no

further

words,

Jason

was

out the door and the second he was alone once again, Theo melted into the couch. Unsure of the effect of his words, he could only let the feeling marinate his brain. He looked to the plate on the coffee table before him; he had six and a half pancakes to deal with.
***
Morning

developed

into noon with Theodore finding little to do. Some tidying up, a movie, and a nap later, the old man realized he had fallen yet again into the monotony of retirement. And worse, beyond tedium, his mind could only think back to Jason.
The idea of “disappointment” crossed

his

mind.

He

expected

that,

as

a

gay

man

himself,

his

son

would

be

amenable

to

his

father

finding

love,

but

every

interaction

seemed

to

push

the

boy

farther

away.

And

yet,

given

his

absence

for

so

much

of

the boy’s

life,

Theodore

had

no

heart

to

put

any

guilt

on his child.
Fear or not, indolence simply would not do. After all he had lost by then, risking it all to save their bond was better than to let it wither in silence. Confidence would

not

be

enough,

though,

he

needed

assistance,

preferably

from

someone

who

also

struggled

with

their

father’s acceptance… Once the thought congealed, he knew exactly who

to

call.
Sitting

by

the

sun

of

mid-afternoon,

the

Bernese

fiddled

with

his

smartphone

until

he

found

the

right

name

under

his

contacts.

Once he did, a flash of worry commanded him to hesitate.
Was it truly

right

to

ask

him

for

help on this?

After

all

that

happened

between

them?

When had

he

last

called

his

brother

over

something

unrelated

to

his

own

queerness?
Inadequate

or

not,

the

image

of

Jason,

in

that demoralizing apathy, forced Theodore’s finger to call

before

his mind

could

decide.

He

watched

the

word

Dialing…

flash

on

the

screen;

no

turning

back

now.

Two

beeps—each

lasting

a

century—got

cut

by

the

sound

of

a

mellow,

tenor

voice.
“Hello?”
Theo

gulped. “Hey,

Brandon.

How

are

you?”
A

single

chuckle

and

the

softness

of

the

voice

rose

into

delight. “Oh!

Hi,

Theo!

I’m

good,

how is

it

going

with

you?”
That

audible

glee

served

to

melt

some

of

his

fears. “I’m

well!

A

bit

bored…”
“Heh.

Retired

life

isn't

what

it's

cracked

up

to

be,

eh?

Boy,

I’m

glad

to

still

be

in

the

flower

of

my

youth…”
Every

word

that

reached

his

ears

made

talking

much

less

daunting. “Careful,

now,

in

two

years

you’ll

be

as decrepit as me,” he replied following the conversation’s playful tone.
Brandon released his iconic guffaw away into the

mic. “Hah!

Okay,

Crypt

Keeper!”
The

siblings

shared

hearty

laughter

for

a

while.

More

than

humor,

laughing

with

each

other

again

just

brought

a

wave

of nostalgia—a true oasis on that day.
“Now,” Brandon

said

after

the

laughter

settled

down, “I

don’t

suppose

you

called

me

just

to

make

bad jokes. What can I do for you?”
The time of reckoning had come. “Well, you see, this morning Jason has–”
“Hold on,” the other guy butt in. “Is this

about

you

coming

out?”
Those

six

words

managed

to

shake

Theo’s

confidence. “Uh,

yes?

Kind of?”
The other side of the line went quiet for a worrisome duration. “Gimme a sec,” it said before returning to silence.
Every sec that passed in stillness broke down his earlier optimism. Maybe Brandon did see how annoying he was being and wanted nothing to do with it. Perhaps the younger brother looked for an excuse, so he could let the older man down more easily.
The weaving of many such scenarios came to a halt as sound once more returned to the speakers. “Hello? Theo, you there?”
With a jolt of surprise, Theodore’s voice came out faulty. “Y-yeah! D-did something happen?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” he replied. “I just thought I’d move this conversation to a more private venture. I’m at my study right now.”
Reeling from the shock, but thankful for his brother, only one question came out of his muzzle. “Wait, you have a study?”
”Heh. All great authors do, silly. Now, what’s the matter with Jason?”
Theo then spent minutes explaining the morning’s events and a couple similar moments from the weeks since he began bringing Anton home. How the youth had become the most distant since he moved in, how he had treated the goat, and how his partner himself shrugged it all off.
“And that’s it,

I

think,”

the

older

dog

said,

after

a

long

sigh. “I

don’t

know

what

to

tell

him.

Did

I

do

something

wrong?”
The other side of the line paused again, but this time in humming consideration. “I don’t think so,” Brandon eventually said.
“Then why? I don’t understand.”
“Well… I just think this is a quirk of the circumstances.”
Theo cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“Erm, don’t take this the

wrong

way

but,

you

haven’t

really

been

in

Jason’s

life,

right?

It

makes

sense

he’s

a

little… distant.” He paused again, releasing a sigh of his own. “Plus, people tend to make up ideas of others in their heads, and when those ideas are shattered, they tend to not react well.”
A compilation from his

doomed

marriage

to

Jason

moving

in

to

Theo

coming out, played in the Bernese’s head. Most moments he shared with

Jason,

would not paint a picture of the

real Theodore

Harris.

That too was

another

symptom

of his poor choices.
“Huh. I see what you mean,” the older brother said. “Maybe this situation has made me much more of a stranger to him.”
“Yup,” Brandon replied, “I think so too.

Jason

is

guarded

because

he

doesn’t

know

you yet!

I

bet

if

you

spend

some

more

time

with

him, he’ll

change

his

tune.”
“Right.

I

just

don’t

want

this

to

turn

out

like…

y’know.”
“Yeah.”
Silence

again.

A

new

set

of

recollections

ran

through

the old man’s

mind again.

One

he

could

blame

on

being

young

and

powerless.

One

that

had

him

waver

to

make

this

call

in

the

first

place.

One

he

was

yet

to

atone

for.
“Oh

my

God,

Brandon.

I’m

so

sorry.

I-I

should’ve

stuck

by

you

then.

I

shouldn’t’ve

let

him–”
“No.

NO,”

the

younger

sibling

cut

in. “We’re

not

doing

this

right

now!

I

have

forgiven

you

a

long

time

ago,

okay?

Let’s

just…

Let’s

just

move on, please.”
The man’s voice did not really quiet Theo’s worst thoughts, but the word