Bluey fanfic: the dogs that bond. Vin a 4 year old

The midday sun beat down on the dusty track, turning the air shimmery and hot. Chilli Heeler, her usual boundless energy tempered by the heat, watched Bluey and Bingo chase each other through the long grass. Suddenly, a small, scruffy shape emerged from the scrub, a creature unlike anything she’d ever seen.

It was a puppy, maybe four years old, but distinctly…different. Its fur was the colour of a winter sky, a deep, rich blue, but unlike Bluey’s sleek coat, this pup’s was thick and shaggy, almost wolf-like. Two tails, oddly fluffy and perpetually twitching, wagged with hesitant enthusiasm. And clutched gently in its jaws was…a dead chicken.

Chilli approached cautiously. The puppy froze, its big, soulful blue eyes wide with a mixture of fear and…something else. A kind of anxious hope?

“Hello there, little one,” Chilli said softly, extending a hand. The puppy hesitated, then slowly lowered the chicken, its gaze fixed on Chilli. It whimpered, a tiny, mournful sound.

Bandit arrived shortly after, his brow furrowing at the sight of the unusual pup. “Chilli, what have we got here?”

The puppy, upon hearing Bandit’s voice, flinched slightly, but didn’t run. Chilli explained the situation, and Bandit, ever the empathetic one, knelt down. He gently took the chicken, noting the lack of any apparent violence on the bird. “He doesn’t seem aggressive,” Bandit observed.

Over the next few days, they learned more about the strange puppy. He didn’t bark much, communicating mostly through soft whines and expressive eye movements. He was incredibly sensitive to loud noises and sudden movements, often flinching and covering his ears. He also displayed repetitive behaviours, lining up his toys meticulously and becoming agitated if the order was disrupted. Chilli, with her inherent nurturing instinct, recognized the signs of autism.

They named him Vin, for his unique, vibrant blue colouring. Vin quickly bonded with Bluey and Bingo, though his interactions were unusual. He preferred parallel play, sitting beside them, mimicking their actions rather than directly engaging. While Bluey and Bingo were boisterous and energetic, Vin was quieter, finding comfort in repetitive routines and the comforting predictability of their games.

The dead chicken incident, it turned out, wasn’t an act of aggression. Vin had simply found the chicken, interpreting its stillness as a part of some unknown ritual. He’d brought it home, perhaps seeking Chilli’s guidance on understanding this mysterious “chicken situation”.

Vin’s differences initially presented challenges. He struggled with transitions, becoming anxious when the family’s routine was altered. But the Heelers, particularly Chilli, were patient and understanding. They adapted their lives to accommodate his needs, creating a calm and predictable environment where he could thrive.

Slowly, miraculously, Vin began to open up. He learned to trust, his tail wags becoming bolder and more frequent. He started to join in their games, albeit in his own unique way. He’d participate in their imaginative play, but through his own lens, often adding his own surprisingly creative, albeit unconventional, twists. He was a quiet, observant member of the family, his two tails a constant reminder of his exceptional and lovable nature. He was, in his own way, perfectly and wonderfully Vin. And the Heelers, already a family bound by love and laughter, were now enriched by the quiet, beautiful presence of their unique, two-tailed wolf-heeler son.