Tag: sad panda

Follow up about Nobley

Follow up about Nobley

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’m getting a lot of questions from people about Pup Nobley. Those
closest to him are preparing for the funeral, so official information is
not going to be forthcoming for a while. So hopefully this helps some of you:

Here’s what we know:

  • Pup Nobley passed away in an accident on November 23rd.
  • The
    cause of death was from solo breathplay. It’s hard to believe, I know, but this
    is not the time to preach the risks of such play.
  • The funeral was on Wednesday, the 30th. It was a private service.
  • Some
    people have posted Nobley’s real name, but it’s been requested that
    when you talk about Nobley in a public way that you refer to him by his
    pup name. Also it’s pronounced “nob” as in “doorknob” not as in “noble”.
  • Nobley has a boyfriend and their five year anniversary was this year. The boyfriend’s real name is
    floating around too and they ask that you refrain from posting it in a
    public way.
  • Nobley’s bf is receiving support and care from Nobley’s family and close friends.
  • They’re from Europe, specifically, the Netherlands.
  • It is 100% confirmed that this sucks a lot.

If
any of you feel really lost and need to talk to someone, never hesitate
to reach out. Just because you never met Nobley in real life doesn’t
mean your grief is invalid. The hashtag #paws4nobley is making its way around twitter.
Also, the Kennel Klub in the UK will be having a moment of silence at their next meeting on December 3rd.

If
you have any personal mementos from interacting with Nobley, such as
songs, videos, pictures, drawings, audio recordings, or stories, you may
send them to pupsaber@gmail.com for archival. Put “Mementos” in the headline so Pup Saber can sort
them. We’re trying to not involve Nobley’s boyfriend in this process as
he has a lot going on, so please keep it off public platforms. 

Thank you.

Tagging @puppixel, @flashdoggy @pup-saber, @pupnovy, @kinkyboyfrance .

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

You hadn’t realized just how special he was to you, just how deep he’d gotten under your skin. You didn’t realize just how much your life had interwoven with his. You never noticed that you stopped just planning dates, and just ended up just naturally seeing each-other several times a week. You had tooth-brushes in both places, underwear and socks. It was getting to be time to talk about moving in together. Even with only one anniversary behind you, you were sure they’d be a second.

You had plans to watch Sunday football together, but he never called you. Confused, you called him. He didn’t answer. Then his mother called you. There’d been an accident. Another driver blew a tire and lost control on the freeway. The man who meant the most to you was alive, but it was bad. Not something a quick trip to the operation room would fix, but bad bad. As in – we’re-not-sure-if-he’ll-ever-wake-up-bad. Swelling in the brain. Bone fragments. And other stuff. His team won the football game today.

When the hospital finally kicked you out after visiting hours ended, you didn’t know where you to go. It was hard to drive through your tears. You found yourself driving to his house. Halfway there, you remembered that his dog had been left alone all day. You rushed to take care of Cashew.

Cashew greeted you, confused but happy to see you. You let him out and cleaned up the puddle in the kitchen. You filled his bowl, changed his water. Cashew was happy to take a romp in the yard, and delve into dinner, but after he ate, he noticed something was wrong. He looked around for his Master, then looked at you expectantly. Cashew’s tail stopped wagging. He whimpered. You knelt down and hugged him close.

“I’m going to be taking care of you for a while,” you murmur, tears falling into his coat.

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Captions are fictional. Sequel is here.

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I just finished saying good-bye to the horses when I noticed Mack standing in the frame of the barn. My heart lept. He had been avoiding me the last few days, even since we had gone on that camping sleep over and made love under the stars. I think it was just too painful for him, counting down the days.

“Hey Mack,” I said, ogling his bare chest. I loved him shirtless.
“Hey,” he said, fingering his waistband. “So you’re off?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Just about. It’s long drive to Casper, I’m staying overnight, and then catching a morning flight to Dallas.”
Mack nodded. He knew all of this. “God it’s hot as fuck. We are going to have a great harvest this year because of it though. It’ll be weird without you.”
I took off my hat, sticking it on a stall post so I could take off my shirt and wipe my face with it. I then put my hat back on. “I’ll try to come back and help out.”

“No,” Mack said firmly, putting his foot down and turning to face me.
“…No?” I repeated, confused.
“No. You go off to college and you enjoy yourself. You learn. I’m not booksmart like you. The world out there is too big for me. All I ever need to know I’ll learn from the land and the animals.”
“Mack…”
“But knowing about agriculture ain’t enough. I’ve heard of good farms going down cause of bad books. You get smart, and you come back, and take this farm over from Old Man Pritchard and run this farm right. You hear?”
I nodded, a lump suddenly forming in my throat.
“I will.”
“And come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas ok? Or at least one?”
When I heard the sorrow in Mack’s voice, I almost wanted to tell him I’d stay.
I heard my own voice falter when I said – “I will.”

Mack shuffled in the thing. “And one other thing.”
“Yes?” I whispered.
He paused. “Shit.” He paused another moment and swallowed hard, scuffing up a storm of dust with his boots. I waited, heart pounding.
“I want you to do whatever what you want at college. Because when you come back here in four years, you are going to be mine. Gay marriage will be legal by then, I’m sure of it. And I’m going to marry you proper. But when you’re at college, you live without limits. No regrets. Just…don’t forget about me. Ok?”
I stared at Mack, shocked. My chest felt tight and my face hot. Not August-summer-hot, but like my-heart-was-pumping-in-overdrive-hot. It was all I had ever wanted, and something I’d never thought I’d hear him say; and now he was saying it, and I still had to leave.
When I didn’t reply right away, Mack repeated again in a smaller voice. “Ok?”
I nodded, my hands trembling. “Yes. Yes, ok. Yours.”
Mack exhaled loudly and his shoulders relaxed. “Ok.” I watched his sculpted torso heave, and he turned away from me sharply. “Shit,” he muttered again, and I watched him move his arms in a way that indicated he was brushing tears away.

I had only seen Mack cry three times in my life. Once when he fell off a horse at age seven and broke his arm. The other time was having to put down one of the collies after a coyote got to her. The last was when his mother died. And now….I felt guilt swell up in me. I had put off college for two years after I finished high school. The nearest community college was over an hour away, and I had a short lived career in rodeo to fill the time anyway.
With my winnings, I could finally afford to go to college. I got accepted to a program in Texas. I picked it cause I had rodeo friends in Texas. It was far from Wyoming. Mack had pushed me to go. I realized now that he had to have known what it meant, because he had to have been in love with me from that point. He was the strongest cowboy I had ever met. I knew there would be nobody in the entirety of Texas who would live up to how much I worshiped Mack.

I walked up to Mack and wrapped my arms around his waist. He was slick and sticky and dusty, but he smelled amazing. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled. My hat fell to the dust. Mack tensed, then wimpered. “Please…”
“I will miss you like hell, John MacIntire.”

The dam broke, and we both started sobbing. He turned to face me and threw his arms around my neck. The horses snorted. I don’t know who saw us, and I didn’t look up to see cause I would have been mighty embarrassed.
After a good cry, we both reached for our handkerchiefs at the same time and chuckled about it.
I kissed him, right there in the yard.
Mack kissed me back, and squeezed my ass. I couldn’t believe how forward he was being. It was like being in a wonderful, yet horrible dream.
Mack hiccuped, then bent over to pick up my hat and brushed it off before handing it back to me. “Your dad’s probably waiting by the car. You outta get going. Long drive to Casper.”
I nodded, putting it on my head. “Long boring drive. I’ll text you every step of the way ok?”
Mack nodded. “Bye, Harlan.”
I pulled away from him. He squeezed my hand, and then his rough and calloused hands fell away. “Bye Mack.”

I smiled, then took a few steps back, turned and walked away. I didn’t look back until the car was pulling down the long driveway. Mack was standing in the middle of the road, hand in his pockets, face shaded by his hat. He was scuffling up a storm.

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Captions are fictional.

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“Brendan.”
“Please stop. If we try to have a conversation I’m going to cry.”
I swallowed hard. I reach out for his hand after a moment he takes it, and squeezes it so hard it hurts.
“Brendan…” I began.
“What?” He asks, his voice high and tight. “Just let me suffer. I know once you get on the plane it will be easier. I’ll cry later.” Brendan brushed away a few tears and I pretended not to notice.
“Brendan,” I repeated. “I just made a new decision.”
Brendan raises his head a little. His cheeks are red. “What?”
“We decided it was the mature responsible thing to break clean when I went off to Harvard and you went to the Coast Guard. We lasted two years out of high school together, working and saving….planning for our own futures, but at the same time, self destructing.“ Brendan let’s out a sob. People are staring. I pull him into a hug. He clings to me like a magnet. “But I just cannot let you go. I will wait you for you, Brendan. That’s what I decided.”
My boyfriend is crying too hard to respond. I find myself unable to hold back any longer.
“And if you meet some guy and have hot helicopter sex-”
That gets a laugh.
“Then you enjoy it ok? Don’t waste a hot chance on me. Just tell me straight after ok?”
“No no no,” Brendan finally says. “I will wait for you. I will wait, and I will pine, because I love you so fucking much.”
I hiccup and feel silly. “You’re going to pine for me?”
“Everyday.”
“Awww…Brendan. I love how sweet you are. Shit, there is no way I could ever stop loving you.”

I know for a fact people are watching now. The announcement comes over the speaker: Flight 8498 to Boston now boarding at gate 34b…“
“That’s me,” I said softly.
“No,” Brendan whimpers.
I tilt his head and kiss him. “The waiting starts now. I will call when I land.”

I cant actually remember how I found the strength to remove Brendan’s warm body wrapped around with mine, or how I could get on that plane with that face watching me. All I know is, when I landed in Boston, I was still in tears.

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Text is fictional.

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I lift the camera up as I film the hypnotic show of the stranger sucking on Luke’s cock like it’s the last penis in the world. Luke grins at me, laughing a little, “I can’t believe we actually picked up a prostitute on 34th street!”
“How’s he doing?”
“Fook! He’s amazin’! You wun’t believe how god this feels! Keep filmin’ filmin’ I wanna remember this burthday forever.”
“Right mate! Of course! Yeah suck that cock, boy!” I shift the camera to my other hand and let the tape roll.

It goes on for another hour – blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, sex. Then we collapse in the back of his van on blankets and pass around cigarettes and beer in glass bottles. The boy was paid generously.

Five years after this, Luke was killed in a car accident when an out of control lorry struck his van. We took a lot of video together, of our trips, our stupid foolish exploits around the UK, holidays, birthdays, nights at the bar, even trips to the dentist, the grocery store. Out of the entire stack of tapes, this one is him with the prostitute is my favorite. He just looks so incredulously happy, so alive. I watch it every year on his birthday and wank one out in memory of him. We were odd friends, but it was the most solid friendship I’d ever had. I miss him dearly. I never watch the tape of his funeral.

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Post is fictional.

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“Alright Willard, look a little to the left… good. Good! Gee, thanks for volunteering to model for my photography class Will, I sure do appreciate it. You really make this old bridge more interesting, the colors will sure pop.”

He stood and looked around nervously, “Well you’re my best friend, Peter, but… are we almost done? My mama will scold me good if I turn up with my church shoes and shorts all dirty.”
“…Your mama wore her house shoes to church last week, do you have somewhere you gotta be?” I tilted my head, advancing the film in my Brownie.
“No it’s just…” he stood, rubbed his arms, and looked around. “Peter, I’ve been hearing rumors about you. Queer rumors. Cindy Kate told me you got in trouble at school for kissing a boy at gym.”
“Willard!” I began, my face hot. “That’s all malarkey. You know Cindy Kate is a gossip!”
“I don’t wanna be mistaken for queer, Peter,” he shuffled his feet. “My daddy hates queers and I’m too old to get the belt anymore…lord knows what he’d do to me.”

I lowered my camera, my face furrowed in confusion. “You don’t even know if those rumors are true yet you don’t even want to be seen with me anymore, is that it?”
“Those rumors are true though aren’t they? I’ve known you since we started elementary school together, Willard… you never looked at a girl right. Remember when we found that book of sexy pictures at the library? You spent a lot of time looking at the male ones. And in the locker room I see where your eyes wan-”
I step back as if he’d slapped me, “Peter! I don’t – how can you think that about me? I don’t even know what to say.”  

Peter gave me a hard look. “You haven’t denied it.”
I sigh and ran my fingers through my hair, disturbing the pomade in it, “Fine. Fine. I kissed Freddie in gym, but only cause he asked me to. I might like boys a little bit, but I don’t see what’s wrong about that." 
Peter look betrayed. "I had a feeling. I stood up for you too, told them Freddie was lying but I had a feeling.”

We looked at each-other. Then Peter said something that infuriated me, “..We watched a documentary, you know on the film projector in health class? It said queers are often pedophiliacs… you haven’t done anything like that- have you?”
My jaw dropped and I balled my fists into rage. “Of COURSE not! Peter how could you THINK that about me? That’s lies, that’s what that is! I haven’t had no impure thoughts like that!” I gasped, “Is THAT why you don’t want to be seen with me?”

Peter looked embarrassed, like he knew he’d gone too far. He worked his jaw for a moment then said, “Maybe it’s a good idea if you only use the photographs of me with my shirt on.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You were my best friend,” I said bitterly, stuffing my camera equipment back into my bag. I turned heel and stormed off the abandoned bridge in the other opposite direction we’d come. 
“Peter..!” I heard Williard’s sad voice call out after me after as I left, “Wait please, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh you better not come too close!” I yelled back, still walking, “I might molest you cause you know, all homosexuals can’t control themselves! I’m going to go find me some Boy Scouts and wave my johnson at them!”
“Willard! I’m sorry!”

But by then he was out of earshot. I kept a brisk pace into the town on the other side of the bridge until I found a gas station. I went behind it under a big oak tree, knelt down, and cried into my handkerchief. I felt so stupid to think Peter was my friend, and I felt even more like a dummy for thinking I could use that alone moment to ask him to go to the high school social with me. Gosh, I didn’t understand at all these feelings inside me, and now I had no one left to talk to.

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Post is fictional. Source is listed as “Frederik L by TeeJott.”