milliways_bar | (no subject)

Dug loves Bar.

This is for many reasons.Mainly Dug loves Bar because she has a habit of providing him with delicious snacks, including the normally forbidden people food. And even when she doesn't give him food even though he looks at her with his widest saddest eyes possible (which can be difficult because he's simply not sure where he's supposed to look), she gives him other exciting things! Like toys. Toys which admittedly seem worryingly evil, but he's pretty sure he and Octoplushie have gotten over that particular problem. Chewing off one of the eight legs helped with that.

But see - the thing is, he maybe kind of liked it when Octoplushie was evil. It was fun, in a way, chasing it, hiding from it, taunting it from under tables and behind chairs. Now that said underwater plushie is missing limbs and definitely much more battered, its servos don't seem as keen to run away from Dug. It more...limps. And that? That's just boring.

But Bar has provided Dug with another toy! And Dug? He love love love love loves Bar. Who else could give you a ball which bounces by itself?

Currently Dug has parked his massive golden behind on top of one of the tables, and has his head hanging over the edge, watching the ball with fascination. It's pretty normal-looking, blue with red dog bones, but it bounces neatly to Dug-head-height without anyone ever touching it, staying in the same position.

Twice he's snapped at it, and twice it's moved slightly to one side, avoiding him neatly. Currently his tail is flicking back and forth as he prepares for another go. This time he'll go all out. This time he'll leap at it. This time he'll get it....

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Another ball joins the first.

And then another.

And another...

Some seem to have the same perpetual bouncing magic as the first, while others haphazardly go this way and that, creating a dizzying cross-hatched pattern that sends a good number of the wait rats into fits of squeaking curses. At least, they're probably cursing.

All of the balls are coming from the same direction, however; right where a smirking cowgirl happens to be leaning against the Bar.

When the second ball joins the first one, Dug glances around suspiciously. But, being not the brightest or best-sighted dog around, he doesn't notice anything, and turns back.

Only there's not two, anymore. Now there's three.

His eyes open wide, and in the half second it takes him to lunge at the third ball, there's more joining them. He ploomphs heavily to the floor before darting in circles, frantically chasing the ever-expanding circle of balls. They're everywhere! They're not stopping! Some are running away and some are just lying on the floor and some are still bouncing and Dug has NO IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON.

He manages about five minutes of desperate ball chasing, skidding back and forth and occasionally slamming full-tilt into waitrats before his lack of fitness gets the better of him. He slumps to the floor, panting and whining as the last of the normal balls roll away and the bouncing ones gather around him in a taunting circle.

Life just isn't fair.

There's a familiar laugh, followed by the cluck of a tongue.

"Aww, sugar."

Seemingly from nowhere, a non-bouncing ball rolls right on up to him, stopping abruptly when it ricochets from his paw.

Dug perks up his ears slightly. The whining stops. He hesitates - torn between Katemaster! and get ball! Eventually he decides on the ball, pouncing on it and barking happily when it doesn't bounce away. After giving it a couple of punishing chews, he pins it between his front teeth and heaves himself to his feet, trotting brightly over to where he's spotted Kate.

"There were many balls! I got one!" He drops said ball, now slimy with dog drool, at Kate's feet. Magnanimously, "You can have it now. I am tired."

He plops his bum down next to her, as close as he can get to her cowboy boots without actually sitting on them (they can be pointy, he's discovered).

"I'm proud of you," she says, lacking nothing in sincerity.

(Even if she's still laughing. It's a happy side effect of having him around.)

"You're such a strong boy!"

She crouches down to stroke his golden coat, in addition to his ego.

His tail happily pounds the bar floor, sweeping away assorted dust bunnies and bits of debris. "I am! I am strong!" He puffs his chest out and tries to make his face look noble, the way he saw a German Shepard do once on TV just before rescuing a police officer.

Of course, it's hard to look noble when you're wiggling under a particularly good petting job. "I would have caught all the balls," he informs her, as though imparting a great secret. "But I let them go."

TRUFAX.

Her eyes widen with the appropriate amount of awe.

"That was a kindness."

Think of all the little balls now that won't have to be without mother or father! All the ball herds and all the ball flocks, free to roam in the wild!

"Maybe when you've had a snack, you'll find renewed vigor t'continue your hunt, handsome. Or y'can come help me out back. I could use an escort."

If possible, Dug swells even more. "It was! I am a nice dog. I am a good boy." He runs his tongue out in a gleeful doggy laugh. He's definitely a little embarrassed about his failure to catch the balls, and this - putting a good spin on it - makes it much better. Kate understands!

He contemplates the snack option for rather a long time, but for once, he's not that hungry. And it's entirely possible that he just wants to spend some time with Kate that doesn't involve a couple of cats.

"I will come with you! I can protect you! I am very brave."

But Dug does so well sharing Kate's room with Roz and Goldie! When he's not cowering in terror, or being used as a giant cat bed, that is.

"You are brave an' strong an' good," she says, lavishing him with attention.

This in no way means she's going to want something from him.

Nope.

Of course not.

"Y'might wanna herd your lil' posse outside, though. 'Fore someone trips, or the wait rats really start fussin'."

She'll even help, by gathering up the inanimate balls for him!

If she does, Dug has no idea yet. He merely glows under the praise, tail creating localized whirlwinds as it practically cracks the floor underneath him. The second she hops up to start collecting balls he leaps to his feet, bounding after her to gleefully bark at the magically bouncing ones.

They reluctantly bounce away from him, and with much woofing and leaping, he eventually manages to herd the majority outside, some even trailing after him and leaping out of his view whenever he turns around. With the last of the balls set free to the wild Milliways woods, he turns back to Kate, leaping up to plan muddy paws on her chest.

"I am ready! I will protect you!" He growls fiercely. "I will keep you safe! Better than cats!"

She squeaks with surprise when all of his ~~massive~~ weight crashes paws-first into her chest.

She glances down to see the two regrettably-placed paw prints on her blouse.

Well.

Here's hoping Gene doesn't wander by. Never mind needing protection, she'd never live this down.

"Better than cats?"

She arches an eyebrow, a knowing look settling on her face.

"Any two cats in particular?"

Dug's tail droops, and he growls again, this time in a decidedly grumpy fashion, wrinkling his nose. "They are mean to me," he complains, flashing her the big puppy-dog eyes. "They use me as a bed! I am not a bed!"

...no matter how much he might resemble one in both shape and, ah - size. "And they do not share their food with me! And sometimes they do not share the bed either."

Beat.

"But we do not go on your bed. Especially when we are dirty. There are...birds. Who sometimes get dirt on your bed."

YES.

Oh, naturally.

She laughs softly, shaking her head.

"Lucky for me I've got two cats an' the bravest dog in all the universe t'chase away them dirty birds. And Miss Bar's given me some fancy new shampoo for the next time you need a B-A-T-H."

She scratches him behind the ears. Maybe that will distract him from the B word.