A/N : After wallowing in angst with the last two OS (I can continue the plotline, if you want), I fell like a change of style was in order. So, I caught another plot bunny running around, and here it is… I believe I read a CC/Niles story with Chester's POV, where we see how he pushes the two of them together. This is not it. He is simply relating what he sees and hears, although it might get slightly AU towards the end.
Title:"A cat-and-dog life" a barkseller by Chester Babcock: part 1
"I am Chester Babcock, a pure race Pomeranian with an impressive pedigree. I live with my humans in a tasteful Beverly Hills house. This is my story."
Like any dog with my pedigree living in the USA, I was born in an elective kennel, on the East Coast. My mother and my sire, Lillyput and Chamallow, had always been a very good combination for the breeders, and they never disappointed. It was the same with my litter. We were all a bunch of lookers, cute and cuddly. I had been the last one of the litter to leave my mother's comfy womb, and was admittedly a little smaller that my brothers and sisters, and my coat was less fluffy. However, I already did have my deadly temperament, and was not above fighting to get what I wanted.
One day, while I was playing with the other pups, that human came to the kennel. Humans always came to the kennel, but this one was slightly different. I could see that he was decisive, easily well-liked, and that his sense of humour pleased his peers. Being quite a social creature myself – I'm a dog, remember? – I got a good first impression of the man, and began to think about what it would mean if he took me away from the others. After all, I was still a pup, but I was beginning to get stifled by the same boring environment, and the puppy games did not amuse me quite as much.
The human observed us all, then opened his mouth and bared his teeth – living with humans, I had learnt that the baring of teeth in that manner was positive: a smile, they call it – wanting him to notice me, I began to show off, and ran to the fence. His mouth produced that strange bark that the humans called laughter and he said:
"This is the one. A show off, demanding attention, and the smallest of the litter. He'll feel right at home with her"
I cocked my head to the side while the breeders opened the fence and picked me up. Look at me! Look at me! He picked me! Me! Me! Me! I japed, full of joy to be picked up by the human. Usually, they preferred the fluffier ones, but not this one, he had chosen me. So long, suckers! I happily barked to the others as the human took me away.
While we were in the car, I could observe him more closely, wondering for whom he had chosen me: who was that her he was talking about? But I soon got distracted from that line of thought, as I examined the moves of his fur, his slightly lined face, and his mobile eyes. Maybe a daughter? I thought. He did not look like the type to have a wife. A girlfriend, maybe?
Sensing that I might be distracting the human from his duty – mainly driving me in that big rolling box they call a car to the woman? I was chosen for – I laid down on the seat and closed my eyes, the move lulling me to sleep.
"Little did I know that my life as this woman's dog would be so… interesting!"