Cassie the Rock Vixen VI-The Last Rose of Summer
Cloudchaser Shaconage
This story is dedicated to the memory of Michael Scott-McMurray.
Written by & copyright of Earl Bacon Foxo...@aol.com
Featuring Cassie, the Rock & Roll Vixen
http://members.aol.com/rufinoform/Cassie.htm
Please read the prequil, "Family Matters", featuring Cassie at
http://members.aol.com/katkottage/by_dawns_early_light.txt
Cassie and all other characters are created by & copyright of Earl Bacon
This story is dedicated to the memory of Michael Scott-McMurray
Cassie was in heaven. Stretched out on a blanket on the wooden deck, wearing
nothing
but her neck choker and her blue satin thigh-cut satin panties, she basked in
the
summer sun. Yes, she was sunbathing topless, but who cared? Cassie and her
human
lover had chosen the ideal hideaway home. Located in the Berkshires of Western
Mass.,
the house was located on the summit of a 1000 ft. mountian peak.
The house used to be a lodge for a now defunct ski resort. When the ski resort
came on
the auction block, Cassie's mate, Foxonian, jumped at the chance of getting it.
The
Swiss chalet-style lodge had a panoramic view of the whole Berkshire Mt. range.
Plus,
due to it's remote location, the house was far enough off the beaten path to
give
the owners complete privicy from prying eyes (and great skiing in the winter,
with most
of the trails still clear).
The modifications to the lodge had been minor. Aside from converting the
basement into
a music room, and converting the large kitchen to a smaller domestic one and
using the
rest of the space for an office. The semi-nude red fox vixen stood up from the
blanket. She was standing on a second floor balcony that had one of those
wooden-carved block rails running and enclosing the lower 3 ft of the balcony,
giving
a waist-high railing.
Cassie reached down and slipped the white and blue flowered sun mini-dress over
her
vulpine like body. The dress' hemline ended just above her knees, allowing her
bushy
fox-like tail to poke out from under the skirt. The mini-dress had a flowing
cut to
the both the bodice and the skirt, so as to give a loose flowing fit. Once
done, the
vixen put her black furred hand paws on the balcony railing and gazed out at
the
Berkshire range spread out before her.
"Foxonian's right. It is beautiful up here," Cassie thought to herself. Since
she
was usually on tour for most of the year, she hadn't spent that much time at
the
house. Foxonian stayed here most of the time, running the band's business
dealings out
of the office on the first floor. Cassie padded her black-furred human like
foot pads
into the main living area. The first thing one noticed was, aside from the
Danish-modern furnature, were two large paintings. The first hung over the
large
stone mantle piece It was an oil painting of a fox that dated from the mid-l9th
century.
Cassie had a collection of fox stuff scattered all over the lodge (small
porcelain
statues, prints, etc.), but this pic was her favorite. Foxonian often
commented that
she was just trying to "get in touch with her roots," with all the fox stuff.
Cassie usually just ignored him, but he was correct. She did have an affinity
for
the animal that she shared part of her genetic heritige with. The vixen often
wondered
why Foxonian didn't have pictures of apes around his office. "0h,well. Humans
are
a strange lot. Guess that's why I find them so interesting," Cassie chuckled
to herself.
The second picture in the living room was on the wall at the opposite side of
the room.
A few years ago, Cassie had her portrait painted by a wildlife artist named
Rebecca
Kemp. It showed her standing on a stage, bathed in spotlights, holding her
favorite guitar. Foxonian was so taken by the pic that he had a life size
(7'x7') oil
done of the same pic. It hung in a large guilded frame. Cassie would look at
the
huge pick of herself and smile. "If anyone ever doubted how much my human mate
loved me,
a look at this should answer their questions," Cassie said to herself.
*RING* Cassie went over the cell phone that was on one of the two coffee
tables
and answered it. "Hello?" the vixen asked as she put the phone to one of her
fox-like pointed ears. "Hello? Ms. Vixena?" the voice began. "I'm Dr.
Michaels, of
the Concord Hospice in Concord N.H. I'm calling in regards to a Ms. Rose
Brown. Do
you know such a person?" Cassie's fox-like blue colored eyes widened in both
shock
and horror. "Yes, I do. What's happened?" Cassie replied in a trembling
voice.
"I'm afraid that it's not good news Ms.Brown has just entered Stage II of her
Synjer's Syndrome, and has asked if you could see her"
Cassie stood for a moment in silence as she contemplated the information.
Synjer's
Syndrome was a condition that affected furry-morphs that were derived from
common
household pets, usually dogs or cats. It is commoly belived in medical circles
that
the genetic abnormality that triggers Synjer's was the result of some mistakes
that
the gene-techs made when first re-writing the cat and dog furry-morphs' genetic
codes. Since dogs and housecats were among the very first Furry-morphs
created,
Synjer's began to show up early. As such, the genetic techniques used In
creating
furry-morphs were revised, therefore eliminating the genetic flaw that causes
Synger's Syndrome in future generations of furry-morphs.
As a further precaution, the gene-techs began basing their furry-morphs on wild
animal strians, rather than domesticated ones. Unfortunately for all dog and
cat
morphs, the problem that causes Synjer's entered their gene pool. Synjer's has
the
nasty habit of skipping a generation or two and is almost impossible to test
for, since
the bad gene doesn't always show up in DNA screenings until a morph shows signs
of Stage
I of Synger's (a numbness in the hand and foot paws). Being a genetic defect,
there
is still no cure for Synjer's Syndrome. Those morphs who are unlucky to be
afflicted
end up paralyzed from the waist down at Stage II.
By Stage III, they end up having total circulatory system collapse and then
die.
"Yes, I'll come as quickly as possible. Just give me the directions," Cassie
replied
as she began to scour the room for something to write on. Finding a pen and a
note
pad, Cassie wrote down all she could and with slightly trembling hand paws,
switched
off the cell phone. She then dialed Foxonian, telling him what was happening
and that
she would get in touch with him as soon as she could. Her mate was in NYC,
along with
most of her luggage and all her musical equipment.
He was getting her studio time all set for her and the band, so they could
start working
on that new album. Cassie had planned on driving down tomorrow morning, but
these
plans were now out the window. She couldn't let Rose down now, not after all
she had
done for her. When Cassie was starting out, she was a very young (16 yrs.) and
very
nieve vixen. Her father, a legendary blues guitar player, had told her all he
could
about "the business," but she was still in the dark about most of it.
She was on her way to a possible audition when she ran (literally) into Rose
while
the collie morph was smoking a cigerette on the sidewalk. At this time,Cassie
still
hadn't found her stage "look" yet. The young vixen had on a white t-shirt, a
denim
mini-skirt and Nike sneakers on her feet. Rose, however, was another case in
point.
The tall collie morph had her blond head hair done in a "beehive" hairdo. She
wore a
white sweater blouse and a 50's poodle skirt. On her feet were white bobby
socks and
white and black shoes. She had a red scarf tied around her neck with the knot
on her
left side to complete the look. Cassie thought that the collie femme looked
like she
had fallen off the cover of an "Grease" album.
As Rose loked at the young vixen holding the black guitar case, she took an
instant
shine to the girl. Rose introduced herself to Cassie. She said that she was
the
guitarist in a 50's band called "The Grandvilles" and asked if she wanted to
see her
show? A delighted Cassie replied "Yes" and Rose got her a seat. Cassie
marvelled at
the collie femme. There she was playing that white '63 Gretsch White falcon
guitar with
a rose painted on the body. While the other singers looked like bad Elvis
impersonators, the bobby-socker Collie with the big guitar played on.
As the days went by, Rose took Cassie under her wing. She found a hotel for
her and
talked with her agent about getting the kid a booking in a new band, preferably
a rock
one, since that's what Cassie could play well. Rose also helped Cassie put
together
her stage outfit. The blue dress was one that Rose had, Cassie suggested the
slitting
up the sides. Her neck choker was lying around a dressing room at the theater
Rose's
band was playing in at the time. The nylon stockings and garters were Rose's
idea.
She felt they would give Cassie that "Sexy Classy" look that the collie knew
would work
for young vixen. Once Rose showed Cassie how to put them on, the vixen just
loved the
look and feel of the stockings. She gave Rose a big hug.
All of these memories came flooding back in Cassie's mind as she finished
hooking
her stockings and started to put on her blue thigh-slitted dress and waist
belt. After
she had her blue punip shoes on, Cassie quickly made sure that all the doors
and windows
of the house were secure so she could activate the alarm system. She wasn't
coming
back here for a while, since she was planning on heading direct to NYC from the
hospice. Satisfied, Cassie closed the main door of the house and locked it.
She
then activated the alarm.
Cassie walked over to her red-orange colored ZR-I Corvette parked next to the
steps.
She opened the Vette's trunk and put some last-minuite items inside. As she
climbed
into the Vette and started the engine, she remembered when Rose first found out
that
she had Synjer's. Because Cassie was playing in various Metal bands, she
didn't get
a chance to see Rose a lot. Although they still tried to stay in touch with
one
another, it was getting harder and harder to meet face to face, since Rose was
doing
the 50's nostagia circuit while Cassie was playing Rock venues.
Then, Cassie found out that Rose's band was going to be in Chicago the same day
as
her band, so they arranged to have a day together. As the day went on, Rose
commented
that she was having trouble making her fingers work the fretboard. She joked
that
"old age" was starting to catch up with her, since she had just turned 30.
Cassie, however, was worried and begged Rose to see a doctor. After much arm
twisting, Rose agreed. After seeing the doctor, the collie morph got the bad
news. Synjer's Synrome. She went to two other doctors that day, but the
diagnosis was
the same.
As she was getting reedy to leave, Rose said that she was not going to give up.
"I'll
go all over this world and see everyone I can until I find A cure for this."
The
collie morph then looked Cassie straight in the eye and said with steel
determination, "I'll tell you something, Cass. I'm not letting Synjer's take
me without
a fight!" Since that day, Cassie hadn't heard much from her old friend, save
for
a postcard from some exotic country in South America or Asia telling of a
"promising
new treatment" that she was trying.
Now, however, the very fact that she was in a hospice meant that all the time
and
money Rose spent couldn't postpone the inevitable. Synjer's was winning the
battle
and Rose was losing. After hours of searching, Cassie found the hospice. It
was
located in an old Catholic hospital on the edge of the city. Locking the
Vette,
Cassie took a deep breath and willked up the steps and into the hospice. There
are
some who still refered to these places as "God's Waiting Rooms." Cassie often
found
that remark heartless, moreso that her oldest friend in the buisiness was dying
in one.
"Excuse me," Cassie asked the nurse at the desk, a squirrel morph in medical
whites.
"Could you tell me where Rose Brown's room is?" "I'll show her," said a white
ermine wearing a white doctor's coat white pants and a stepthscope around her
neck. For
a minute,Cassie had trouble seeing the short doctor becasue of the white fur
pelt and
her white uniform, she seemed to blend into the rest of the white hospice
interior. "Hello, Ms. Vixena? I'm Dr Michaels. We spoke on the phone?" the
ermine
doctor asked. "How is Rose?" Cassie asked as she followed the ermine down the
hall
"She's going downhill fast Alreedy most of her internal organs have closed
down. I
don't think she will last the day," Dr. Michaels replied.
As she reached the door of Rose's room and began to open it, Dr. Michaels took
Cassie
aside and spoke to her quietly. "Try to make her feel at ease. She's had no
other visitors since she entered here I know that she has no family. Does she
have
anyone else besides yourself that we can contact?" "Not to my knowledge,"
Cassie
began. "Have you tried to contact her former bandmates or her manager?" The
ermine gave
a disgusted sigh before she replied. "Yes. We tried to get in touch with all
of them,
but none replied. Frankly, we had given up all hope of finding anyone, when
Rose told
us about you."
Cassie started to enter the room. "If something should happen, just push the
call
button on the T.V. control next to Ms. Brown's bed," Dr Michaels said as she
went back
down the hall. As Cassie approached the bed, she almost didn't recognize her
old
friend. For one thing,Rose's blond head hair wasn't in it's usual beehive. It
was
drapped on the pillow around her head so it formed a golden halo. Cassie could
tell
that the Syngen's had been doing it's work. Rose's once luxurious pelt of
cream and
light brown, was all dull and matted. Rose's face seemed old.
Her eyes seemed sunken into their sockets. Above all, Rose looked so tired and
worn
out. As Cassie drew closer to to her bedside, Rose slowly opened her eyes.
"How are
you doing, Cass?" a weak voice asked. "Okay," a very tremble-filled Cassie
replied as
she sat on a chair that was next to the bed. "Well, it looks like I lost my
fight
kid," Rose began, "This Synjen's is taking me out." Don't say that!" Cassie
cried
"You can still beat this! Just don't quit!"
"Cass,I'm tired of fighting," Rose began. "I went through all my money and
sold most
of what I had, and for what? I bought myself an extra year or two. Well,
maybe that's
all I'm gonna get." Rose then asked from some water. Cassie filled the
drinking bowl
in the wall sink and brought it over to Rose. She placed the water filled bowl
up
to Rose's muzzel so she could lap up the liquid. As she drank, Cassie began
to
lovingly stroke Rose's head. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she did
this. Satisfied, Rose told Cassie to put the bowl away.
"Cass," Rose started to speak, "I always thought of you as the kid sister I
never had,
what with me being raised in an orphanage. I'm going to be going up to the
nose-bleed seats very soon, I think. Could I ask two last favors from you?"
Holding Rose's hand, Cassie replied in a tearful voice, "Whatever you want
Rosie. I'll
do it!" With that, the collie morph's face managed a weak smile. "Under this
bed is
the one thing I haven't sold. It's my White Falcon. Take care of it, okay?
Rose
asked "Okay," Cassie said.
Rose then pointed her head in the direction of all urn sitting on the room's
window
sill. "See that urn with the flower on it over there?" Rose began, I've made
arrangements to be cremated. If you wouldn't mind, are you going to NYC
sometime?"
"Yes," Cassie whispered as she stared at the urn. Rose then leaned as close as
she
was able, Cassie met her halfway across the bed. "I would like you to spread
my ashes
on the ocean. Try to do it before dawn, so the cops don't arrest you for
littering
or something. Promise?" "I'll do it, Rosie," Cassie whispered back.
Rose then reached up and gave Cassie a lap on her muzzle. "I love you, kid,"
Rose
rasped, she then fell back and died. Cassie reached down,gave Rose a return
kiss on
her muzzle and began to weep. It took three days to get everything arranged.
Cassie
stood at the end of a pier in Manhattan just before dawn. The light breeze was
causing
her mane of black head hair and her thigh-high slitted blue dress to sway
slightly. Foxonian and her roadies were keeping a sharp watch for any police a
short distance away from where Cassie stood.
Standing on the pier, a short distance behind Cassie, was her longtime
bandmate,
Cindy McCormick. The 6ft Snow leopard Morph's own long white mane of head hair
was
swaying in the wind. The cornrow braids on her bangs (a common fashon among
snow
lepoards) rocked back and forth in time with the rest of her hair. Cindy was
dressed
in her black motorcycle jacket that said "Harley Davison" across it's back.
Beneath
that, she wore a black T-shirt that said "Metal Rules" in gothic letters.
Cindy had on
a black leather mini-skirt, black nylons and black leather riding boots on her
feet.
Cindy and Cassie have been playing together for at least 7 years and in 5
different
bands. Cassie always considered Cindy's bass part of her sound. Whenever she
started
a new band, she always gave Cindy a call. The reason why the snow lepoard was
here
was that, aside from Cassie, she was the only other member of Cassie's current
band
who knew Rose. "Whenever your ready, Cass," Cindy said as she walked down the
pier
to stand next to the vixen holding the urn. Cassie nodded to Cindy and turning
to face
the sea, slowly poured Rose's ashes upon the rolling waves.
When she was finished, Cassie took the urn and began to walk down the pier
toward the
wharf and her mate. "Damn it, Cindy," Cassie began. "I should have helped
her!
I shouldn't have left her to rot!" "Cassie, you know better than that!" Cindy
said as
she walked at the vixen's side. "Rose wanted you to live your life, not hers.
After
all, she told you it was her fight. Didn't she?" Cassie nodded as she waked
holding
the urn close to her chest with both her arms. "Besides Cass," Cindy began,
"You
were there when she need you most. I think that was what she really wanted."
I wish
I knew for sure," Cassie replied as she noticed the sun beginning to rise.
"What's that?" Cindy asked as she pointed to a small object floating down from
the
sky, directly in their path. As Cassie stared, the little red object slowly
dropped directly onto the pier at her feet. The vixen put the urn down next to
her
and bent down to look at the mysterious object that fell from the sky. It was
a
rose blossom. Cassie held the flower in her cupped, black-furred hand paws.
She
then stared up to the sky with tear-filled catlike blue eyes and said "Now I
know."
The vixen then smiled.
THE END
This story is dedicated to the memory of Michael Scott-McMurray.
Timothy Fay
Slight problem with the above link: This page cannot be viewed
by some versions of Netscape (Communicator 4.7, in this case).
I suspect the midi plug-in is at fault (I regard embedded sound
files as the work of the Devil, anyway). Luckily, the page loads
in my older version of Netscape (that version can't handle the
plug-in at all, which is probably why the rest of the page loads).
FYI.
--
http://www.umn.edu/~fayxx001
"Hey, ho -- let's go!" -Ramones