by Doverstar

"Y'know somethin', gang? I'm lookin' forward to the road ahead. How 'bout you, Skipper?" Fang scratched at an ear with his teen-pup paw and glanced down at Skip, his buddy, the teenage grump of the age-old gang.

"Whatever," Skip muttered. It was his answer to about everything these days.

"I dunno," Afghanna interrupted. She sat below Fang's cardboard-box mound of a home. Her legs were longer and lankier, like they all had grown in the past year. They were teen-dogs, bigger and awkwardly clumsy, just like human teens. "It sounds scary when you put it like that, Fang. Growing up, you know?"

"Isn't it a little soon to talk about it?" asked Rose. She was as pretty as ever. Her tail wagged nervously. Her blue eyes darted from Fang to Affy to Skip and back again in a circle. "I mean, we're still pups."

"We ain't oldies yet," Fang pointed out in agreement. "Fact is, I'm gettin' bigger. And slicker. Check this out!"

He tore off a piece of cardboard on the top of his mound and flung himself into a sitting position on top of it, sliding down rapidly. He leapt off when he hit the cobblestone ground of his upside-down-L-shaped alley, sending the cardboard slab flying with a tiny thump into the brick wall.

Afghanna's eyelids were lowered. "Bravo."

"Ch'yeah," Skip snickered. "Encore."

"Ah, can it, shorty," Fang dismissed him with a grunt, his eyelids almost dropping completely.

Skip was suddenly nose-to-nose with Fang. In the past year, he had grown bigger than almost any of them, and he nearly matched Fang in height, if not taller. His cream-yellow fur bristled. "Care to repeat that?"

Fang's eyes widened in surprise. He grunted, unimpressed. Although he'd grown to respect Skip now that they were teens, Fang still thought of him as the dull-and-boring rain on the Golden Retriever's parade.

"A'ight, so y'ain't short anymore. Cry me a river."

"And then build a bridge," Afghanna added to them both, pushing between the hotheaded males, "and get over it. That goes for you too, chief," she arched a brow at Fang.

Fang shrugged. "Whatever you say, Affy."

Afghanna rolled her eyes. "Don't call me--"

"Give it up, Aff'," Rose giggled. "He won't learn."

"Lost cause," teased Skip.

"Yeah, yeah, gang up on me." Fang grinned craftily, eyelids lowered, as he climbed back on top of his cardboard mound. "All I know is, when we're all grown, we ain't gonna wanna tease each other, so get yer kicks now."

Skip and Afghanna exchanged delighted glances at the thought of bombarding the cocky Golden Retriever with teasing insults.

Rose just batted her eyelashes at Fang, who winked at her. She nearly croaked right there in the alley. He'd taken more notice of her lately.

"Speaking of growing up," Skip suddenly said bluntly, "what would we do? Split up?"

There was a dead-silence in the alley. They all either stared into each other's eyes in dismay or looked at their paws.

Skip looked at them all and then said, trotting in a circle, "I mean, c'mon you guys, we won't be pups forever. We won't even be teen-pups. What're we gonna do when we're fully-grown? We can't stay in a gang then. The dogcatchers will have us in those nets in no time."

More silence.

Rose suddenly jerked her head up at glared at the teenage Lab. "Why do you have to go and ruin everything?"

Skip swung his head backward in surprise, the rest of his body like a statue. His eyebrows lowered. "I'm just introducing you to a friend of mine--reality. We're growing up. We can't keep doing this."

Fang let out a bark. He sprang down from his cardboard box pile and landed in the middle of the gang. "Break it up, mutts, this ain't helpin'." Fang glared hard at Skip. "She ain't lyin', either. It's about time y'looked on the brighter side--if possible fer you."

"I'm just saying it like it is." Skip retorted hotly.

"Yeah, well, knock it off. Yer bringin' us down."

"Hey," Afghanna interrupted. "We aren't splitting up. We need each other. We've been together this long. Nothing will seperate us. Relax, Rose, Skip's a downer. That's who he is."

"Surprised he's been 'ere this long," Fang grumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," Skip growled.

"Heaven forbid," Fang replied sarcastically, rolling his crimson-red eyes, ears leaping up.

"Listen," Afghanna cleared her throat. "I don't know about you guys, but the future scares me too."

"Who said anythin' about being scared?" Fang snapped.

They all glared at him.

"If there's one thing I know," Afghanna said with a teasing smirk as she went up to Fang's left side, grinning at him with eyelids lowered, "We'll make it when we're grown."

Skip came up on Fang's other side. "Yeah? How?"

"That's easy," Rose replied, joining them. "We've got the King of the Streets to lead us."

"How encouraging," Skip mumbled.

"That's the spirit, Skipper. An' when we get there, I'm gonna thank you personally fer the compliment, Affy."

"Thanks a bunch." Afghanna muttered good-naturedly. "Oh, and Fang?"

Fang arched a brow at her.

She shoved him with a paw. "Don't call me Affy!"

****************************************************************

(One Year Later...)

"C'mon Dad, you're way too slow!" Rascal skidded through the cobblestone roads of the small town. "We're gonna be late!" His brown-gold fur bushed in excitement.

"Who you callin' slow?" the large Golden Retriever father growled teasingly as he trotted over to his son. "Tell y'what, sport, I'll race ya t'the Park."

Rascal crouched and wagged his tail in the play-position. "Yeah-heah!" He bolted forward, toward the gate to the town Veteran's Park.

In the end, Rascal beat his father to the pond.

Rascal skidded to a halt behind his two friends, Ginger and Checkers. "Hey guys! What's up?"

"Daily argument," Ginger replied without taking her eyes off the scene in front of her.

Rascal groaned. "Again? Are you serious?"

"No, we're kidding," Checkers teased. "See for yourself."

Rascal sighed and sat down between them.

In front of the three puppies, a female Labrador puppy, white-yellow, was bristling and facing off with a larger Yellow Lab--one with green eyes and a matching scowl.

"You're always criticizing me!" snapped the female pup.

"How else will you know what you're doing wrong?" retorted the Yellow Lab.

The female pup actually stomped her paw in fury.

Checkers and Rascal and Ginger all winced in unison. This was getting worse.

"If you're going to be a Street Dog, you gotta be pushed!"

"But you're pushing me too hard!" sulked the pup.

"You need to be pushed!" bristled the larger dog.

"Woah woah woah," the large Golden Retriever, Rascal's father, pushed between them. He glanced at the adult Yellow Lab. "Lighten up, wouldja, Skipper?"

Skip snorted as he glared at his daughter.

The female pup, Blossom, glared right back with identical aqua-green eyes, then turned on her paws and stormed up the hill toward her friends.

"She's a brat, Fang, I dunno where she gets it from," Skip exploded as he watched her go. He turned, lip curled into a snarl, and stalked a few feet into the trees.

"Ah yeah," Fang replied, eyes rolling. "No resemblance whatsoever, eh?"

"I don't see any myself," came an equally sarcastic voice as a  shorter Australian Shepherd female trotted up, mismatched brown-and-blue eyes twinkling.

"I don't think I can handle her anymore," Skip muttered.

"Relax," Afghanna, for of course this was her, nudged him as she fell in step beside her old friends.

"Parenting isn't all it's cracked up to be," replied Skipper.

"I dunno," Fang winked. "I'm pretty lucky. Rascal's got the moves, I'll give 'im that."

"Easy for you to say," Skip growled. "You're Dog-Dad of the Year to him."

"You noticed!" Fang cried teasingly.

"He's got a point," Afghanna interrupted their banter. "Rascal reminds me of someone...it's right on the tip of my tongue...some wild-idea hotshot back in the day..."

"Who?" Fang swung his head back and forth sarcastically.

The three adult dogs went up the hill teasing each other as they went to supervise their pups.

*************************************************************

"Ooooh, one of these days I'm gonna--" Blossom was pacing, storming around near the shore of the pond.

Rascal and Checkers watched her, eyes following her left and right when she swung around and continued her pacing.

"He cares," Ginger soothed, arching a brow when Blossom let out a grunt in reply. "He