It Takes A Village

It Takes A Village

Chapter One

“My mom knows, your mom knows, your dad knows, your siblings know—all 275 of ‘em—Clawhauser knows, Leah knows, Phinn knows, Hannah and Johnny know, the Ottertons know...Stop me if I’ve missed anyone.”

“How about this?” Judy answered her husband, defiant. “I’ll stop you because you’re being annoying!” That shut him up. Judy’d had no idea where he was going with this—that is, until he’d said the word ‘missed’. Sweet cheese and crackers, she’d been set up!

That fox—well, knew—that if ever she was away from the city for long—as she had been during their Camp Wi-Hop excursion--there was one friend she missed the most. “I need a second opinion on marriage and such,” needled Nick, “I wonder who I should ask?”

“Why, you…!” Judy’s words of mild frustration belied the fierce fire in her eyes. Nick just grinned.

“Here, I’ll give you a hint: ‘Blanks and spices’.” Judy stared him down, gritting her teeth. “Need help? Here’s another hint: ‘it’s not pronounced the same as the first’.” He waited, watching her with dancing green eyes. “Got it yet?”

“Yes, of course, Nick!”

“Good one! Part of the answer rhymes with ‘of course’! Sly bunny.”

“Dumb fox,” she ground out, though right now she wasn’t joking.

He prattled on, seemingly oblivious to her ire. “I think we can both agree that Sam is the spicy one in that pair, though the dance competition might’ve tipped the scales a bit.” Judy smiled a little at the thought, but scowled again before Nick could notice. “And you are certainly spicy today...Phew!”

“No shiitake, Sherlock—I’m pregnant!” He laughed out loud.

“Whew! That’s a good one...You think you’re spicy because you’re a one-humped bunny. That’s so...” Even in his mirth, Nick was smart enough to avoid that word. “...Adorable.” He composed himself and looked her in the eye. “C’mon, Carrots—we both know that you’ve been spicy since the day I met you—and before that, if we’re being honest with ourselves. And that’s just one thing I love about you.”

Judy’s expression softened. “Aww, Nick…!” He’d get a pass this time, but she’d keep an eye on him for the rest of the day.

Chapter Two: Herb Your Enthusiasm

For the first time since they’d met Herb and Sam, the Wilde-Hopps had been invited to their place—which, since about two years ago, was Zootopia’s Mayoral Mansion. It was informally known as The Green House—not for it’s color, but for the sprawling gardens that encircled the property.

Once they’d made it through the security gate and up the front steps, Judy rang the doorbell. Both were prompted greeted by Bruce and Zeke, who peeked around the door as the moose opened it. “We’ve been waitin’ for ya. C’mon in,” the bear said, and both led them inside.

“I’ll round up the guys and introduce ya,” Zeke told them. “Bruce, you play butler.” He laughed and left the room.

“The guys?” Judy asked.

“The rest of the security squad,” Bruce supplied. “We’re only the mobile unit.”

“Ah,” said an equally curious Nick.

“You can meet them later,” smiled Bruce...

“I, however,” the moose began in the plummy tone of a butler, “shall fetch my Master and Mistress for you.”

“Again with the grand gestures and all—Crimini, it’s contagious!” Judy giggled, then hesitated. “Bruce, wait. Don’t disturb them on our account. We really just wanted a quiet place to talk; where are they most comfortable?”

“Down the hall to the right, you will find Mayor Horse’s study, and through that entryway to the left, you’ll find the sitting room, which the First Lady favors.” Judy smiled.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

“‘Twas my pleasure, Mrs. Wilde.”

“Carrots.” The dreamy look in Judy’s eyes as she took in her surroundings vanished when Nick spoke.

“Yeah?”

“I think we should divide and conquer.”

“Meaning?”

“I talk to Chief, you go talk to Sam. Otherwise, they can be like us sometimes...joking around so that nobody gets a word in edgewise.” Nick had a point.

“Okay. So, we do that, and then...Switch?” He smiled.

“Good call, Carrots. Oh, and...” He reached for her paw and held it. “Until we meet again, m’lady.” His words were punctuated by a kiss on said paw, but just as quickly… “See?! It’s catching!” He was back. But she loved him that way.

~

Arriving outside the open door of Herb’s study, Nick knocked on the doorframe. The stallion looked up, surprised. “Nick!” He smiled and added, somewhat to himself, “Now, why didn’t Bruce and Zeke tell me you were here?!”

“Zeke—and Carrots—had other ideas,” Nick supplied. “Bruce showed us in. Anyway...Want to hear a joke?”

“Sure. Let me just...” He closed up his documents, locked his laptop screen, and retrieved his glasses from his desk. Finally, turning his swivel chair to face the fox, he exclaimed, “Come on in and let’s hear it!”

“What do you call a three-humped camel?” Herb hesitated for a moment or so before replying.

“You got me there, Nick...What do you call a three-humped camel?” Nick smiled—shyly, something that the horse had never seen him do before.

“Pregnant.” The punch line brought a smile to Herb’s face.

“Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it?” he mused aloud. Nick nodded.

“So, my life right now—is like that joke, sub rabbit for camel.” Herb, taken aback by this revelation, began to sniffle.

“Nick, that’s—wonderful. Congratulations…!”

“Thanks, Chief. And thanks for inviting us here. I would’ve felt awkward at L&P...No offense.”

“Of course not.,” Herb assured him.

“Can I give you a hug?” Nick spoke quietly.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“We’ve been meaning to invite you for awhile, and when I heard about the JRS camp, I knew I wanted to hear all about it when you got back. So, how was that?”

“A blast. The group was awesome.” Herb gave him an inquisitive look.

“Nicholas—was this a practice run?”

“What?!” Nick sputtered. “No! We weren’t even thinking about that until”--he cleared his throat-- “during camp”.

“I see,” said the horse, and shrugged. “Counselors deserve fun, too.” That made Nick laugh, and he relaxed.

“I wanted to get your advice on marriage and stuff.”

“What do you mean by, ‘and stuff’?” Herb asked.

“I dunno...White picket fences, happily-ever-afters...that kind of thing.” The horse placed a hoof over his heart.

“I’m touched, Nicholas. I don’t claim to be an expert on any of those things, but I’ll do my best to help you.”

“When I was a young buck...”

“Colt.”

“Sorry?”

“You mean colt, right?” Herb smiled.

“You’ve uncovered the first lesson, my friend. Language is an equalizer. In my experience—as someone whose heart has been stolen by a bunny—the first step to understanding your love is using her language. It puts the world in perspective.”

“Helps you walk in her shoes?”

“Exactly.” Nick nodded, thoughtful.

“What else?”

“Teamwork. A successful marriage requires that you get out of your own head. When you run into a problem, instead of saying, ‘how am I going to deal with this?’, you say, ‘how are we going to deal with this?’.” Realizing you’re not alone in your troubles is extremely gratifying, but you have to be willing to return the favor. When you enjoy having your better half around—as you should—you don’t mind.”

“Right,” Nick agreed. “We have a ton of experience with that; we worked on a whole case together before I was even a cop!” Herb listened to this with particular interest.

“May I comment on that?”

“Go for it.”

“Having watched Weaselton’s documentary, I’m reminded of that scene under the bridge. Why did you go with Judy when she asked for your help?”

“She’s tough-- ‘spicy’, I called it earlier. She wouldn’t break down like that unless she was sorry. Besides, she was really in a bind. And...I’m a predator, so what would it say about me if I didn’t try to save them, too? But--the bottom line? I care about her. I was only starting to realize just how much, and there was no way I could let her go.”

“Let her go...in what way? On the case alone?”

“I did think about that. I figured she might be crazy enough to try it. But even if she’d apologized and said, ‘I’m not good enough for this case, but I’m gonna find someone who is’ and walked away, I would’ve followed her. I may have even volunteered myself. Who knows?” He shrugged, laughed a little. “I was already halfway in love with her.” Herb’s encouraging smile spoke volumes.

“Then it probably won’t surprise you that my next tip is: stay grounded. I would say it implies a clear sense of self – and, more important, an acceptance of one’s self. Acceptance is the toughest part for a lot of mammals. It helps to be around others who can see and appreciate what you don’t. I daresay Judy does that for you. But ultimately it’s what each of us does with those influences that determines our degree of grounding. There’s no question in my mind that you’ve turned your life around to great effect, so you’ve clearly used them quite wisely.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“You are most welcome, Officer Wilde. Be that as it may, one doesn’t simply achieve grounding on a definitive basis; staying grounded means constantly adjusting to what comes our way in life.”

“Noted. But with a wife like Judy and friends like you and Sam, that should be a piece of blueberry pie!” Herb smiled modestly.

“I’m not sure if I deserve to be included in that celebrated company, but who am I to stand in the way of such shining optimism?”

Chapter Three: Dear Sammy…

“Now that we’ve caught up on most everything else, how did that summer camp turn out?” Sam posed the question to Judy as they chatted on the former’s couch.

“It was amazing! We had a great group.”

“What made you decide to go?”

“I didn’t decide anything. Nick didn’t want to go without me, so he forged my signature on the sign-up sheet.”

“He what?!” asked Sam, incredulous. “I really shouldn’t be surprised, but I thought he took the Scouts too seriously to pull a hustle over on them.”

“He does take it very seriously,” Judy explained. “I think that’s why he did it—because he knew I’d love to go. And maybe he thought those Scouts could use a little Hopps know-how.” She laughed at the idea. “I was prepared to use all my disciplinarian tactics, but they hardly needed any.”

“I see. And did being around all these sweet little scouts give you baby fever?” Startled by the question, Judy stammered, “N-not exactly. But...”

“That reminds me...This week I was at a benefit for the Richard Storkey Adoption Agency. Richard, an extremely generous philanimalist, lives out on Liverpond, but he set up this fabulous place in the city. It was sad, seeing those little ones and thinking back to our struggles, but I’m glad to have had the chance to shed some light on their work.”

Not five minutes ago, Judy had been disappointed that she’d missed a chance to mention the news. But she’d been suddenly jarred by the revelation Sam had shared while describing her civic duty. Cautiously meeting Sam’s gaze, she ventured, “You guys have had...issues?” Sam’s smile suggested there was no harm in asking.

“Every interspecies couple has them, honey. The chances improve slightly if you’re physically similar.” It was daunting pronouncement fraught with haunting implications that neither wished to dwell on.

As though she’d read Judy’s mind, the other rabbit broke their silence. “You both have fur, fluffy tails, paws and claws, sharp ears.” Sam lightened the mood, giving Judy a playful once-over. “I’d say you have a pretty good chance.” Pretty good, indeed. But how could she possibly say that now?

She glanced over in the direction she’d seen Nick go—Herb’s office—and tried to imagine what advice the equine would give her right now. It wasn’t hard to guess—he’d tell her to be open and honest. Herb would never have it any other way—which meant, Judy realized, that Sam wouldn’t, either—and, for that matter, neither would she.

“I’m so glad that you got to visit the kiddies at the adoption agency, Sam, but...actually, I came here because I already have at least one…” Sam gasped. With a paw on her mouth, she stared at Judy for a full minute, at least. And then she put a paw on Judy’s shoulder, pulling her into a hug.

“Congratulations, Judy! Why didn’t you say something?!”

“I was nervous, I guess, and working up to it, but then...the...I...”

“Oh, Judy—I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“You? I’m the one who should be sorry,” Judy responded, chagrined.

“It’s hard sometimes,” Sam admitted, “But I wouldn’t change what we do have for anything. We have so much that we’re grateful for. My family—Herb’s too—has said that we’re kiddie whisperers. A catch-22 if I ever heard one. But one of my favorite things about being First Lady is, now it’s just...” Sam struck a simple yoga pose, looking serene, “...the world’s children are ours.” Laughing, Judy punched the air with her fist.

“Yes!” She settled against the couch again, thoughtful. “That’s a great way of looking at it, Sam.” With a smile, it dawned on Judy that she couldn’t have said it better herself.

“Do you have a specialist lined up? That’s a must, because most docs don’t know their way around interspecies cases.”

“I don’t, but it’s on my list.”

“Good girl.” Both grinned at that; Judy because she’d heard Herb say that occasionally, and Sam because it reminded her to tell Judy something.

“I have to give you Gracie Dee’s number. She’s what’s called an IPS—Interspecies Procreation Specialist. I went to her a couple times; she’s a riot, and really knows her stuff.” Sam tore a scrap of paper from a magazine on the coffee table, grabbed a pen, and scribbled down the info.

“There you go,” she said, offering it to Judy. “Gracie will make this much easier.” Maybe so, Judy reasoned, but Sam already had.

Chapter Four

“Good afternoon, ladies—fancy meeting you here.” Herb strode into the sitting room with a smile on his face, Nick a few paces behind him. As the fox ambled into the room, he smiled at the sight of his two favorite rabbits—Herb wasn’t the only one who could get away with claiming that qualifier. Reaching the couch, he snuck in next to Judy while Herb took a seat beside Sam.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilde,” said the horse, “Have I ever told you why I aspire to teach?”

“No,” Judy replied, her tone inviting elaboration.

“Nuh-uh,” added Nick. “Do tell.”

“That desire stems partly from my parents—teaching is, after all, a form of public service. But it’s also, I believe, the best way to share whatever wisdom one has gleaned from trials and triumphs with the next generation. I’d posit that the average mammal doesn’t spend that much time around youngsters—unless, perhaps, one is a bunny.” Sam nodded her assent, making Nick and Judy laugh.

“Teachers, though, experience the joy of sharing a space—and, of course, stories—with an ever-changing, wide variety of young mammals. That very concept has always fascinated me.”

“You’ll get there someday, Hoss; I’d bet my money on it.” Nick said with a wink.

“I hate to contribute to Slick’s ego, but he’s right,” smiled Judy. “You can do it!”

“Thank you both,” Herb said with a modest smile. “That means a lot coming from two of the finest public servants I know.”

Nick and Judy basked in that compliment for a minute or two before Sam chimed in, changing the subject. “I’ve been sitting on this couch for hours! I’d better get up and stretch.”

“We were talking for quite a bit,” Judy agreed, following her lead.

“I’m a law-abiding fox now, so I do what she does,” added Nick with a smirk. The three friends had only taken a few steps when, as one, they opted to drop all pretense of ‘ought to’, and began bouncing and dancing around the room—they had something to celebrate, after all.

Suddenly, Judy stopped dancing, joined Nick and Sam in a group hug/bounce, and said, “Where’s…?” Before she could form the rest of the question, she was lifted off her feet from behind, and was now looking down at Sam and Nick from...horse-level.

“Enough of that bouncing, young doe. There’s no need for that in your condition.” Baffled, she protested,

“I wasn’t bouncing, Herb. I was...hopping. You don’t tell a Hopps not to hop.” Watching from below, appreciative of his wife’s hustle, Nick advised,

“Especially not this one.” He paused, assessing the situation. “Hey! You don’t think I can look out for her?!” His pride was slightly wounded, although he knew that wasn’t what the equine meant.

“Excuse me, Nicholas, I’m having a moment.” That’s when Nick noticed that Judy had wrapped Herb in a heartfelt hug—and vice versa, to boot.

Nick gave a (half-) facetious indignant huff. “Okay, so maybe I already had my rations today, but I like Herbinger hugs, too.” Nick was only going to join in from his level, but he, too, was whisked upward, where he joined the embrace.

Sam watched them, amused and content. Then, “that gives me an idea.” When Nick and Judy returned to terra firma, Sam had returned...with an old curtain rod? “Nicholas Wilde—for your courageous displays of openness and empathy, I proudly proclaim you the second official Honorary Bunny!”

Nick knelt to receive the long-coveted title as Sam held the curtain rod aloft over his head. Then First Lady Lapin stepped aside as he stood and bowed while she and the others applauded. Thanks to Sam’s initiative, it was a felicitous day for foxes and bunnies both.

Yet they say it takes a village to raise a child, and the Wildes were lucky to have plenty of mammals willing to help...not the least of whom were the newest inhabitants of The Green House.