Daine remembers Foha and Bran well -- enough so that she's surreptitiously checked in on them more than once, just to make sure they're still getting on all right and not being mistreated. They've never given her any reason to think their new masters were anything but lovely, but she was so furious over the condition they were in when she first met them, she doesn't want to just leave their fates to chance.
So when their two-legger calls her and asks her to stop by, she's quick to agree. The clinic rarely sends her on house calls -- not unless things are dire enough that getting the creature to the clinic might do more harm. But even with her there to calm them, few creatures like being brought to the vet. Visiting the farm they're living on strikes her as more sensible -- not to mention kinder -- than asking him to haul them into town.
Besides, if dogs would be difficult, she can't even imagine the trouble sheep might be.
Daine gives the man by the fence (Gannicus, she guesses) a smile as she walks up the drive, though her attention quickly drops to the dogs at his feet.
"Look at you," she coos, impressed, as the dogs come up to her. The one that shows the least restraint is one she hasn't even met before, but soon all three are surrounding her, tails wagging. She runs her hands over them, both affectionate and assessing, and notes with approval that they've filled out without being overfed.
Lifting her gaze back to Gannicus, she adds, "The others at the clinic wouldn't recognize them." She straightens, then wades through the dogs until she's close enough to extend a hand. "You're Gannicus, I s'pose? It's nice to meet you."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-03-30 01:56 am (UTC)So when their two-legger calls her and asks her to stop by, she's quick to agree. The clinic rarely sends her on house calls -- not unless things are dire enough that getting the creature to the clinic might do more harm. But even with her there to calm them, few creatures like being brought to the vet. Visiting the farm they're living on strikes her as more sensible -- not to mention kinder -- than asking him to haul them into town.
Besides, if dogs would be difficult, she can't even imagine the trouble sheep might be.
Daine gives the man by the fence (Gannicus, she guesses) a smile as she walks up the drive, though her attention quickly drops to the dogs at his feet.
"Look at you," she coos, impressed, as the dogs come up to her. The one that shows the least restraint is one she hasn't even met before, but soon all three are surrounding her, tails wagging. She runs her hands over them, both affectionate and assessing, and notes with approval that they've filled out without being overfed.
Lifting her gaze back to Gannicus, she adds, "The others at the clinic wouldn't recognize them." She straightens, then wades through the dogs until she's close enough to extend a hand. "You're Gannicus, I s'pose? It's nice to meet you."