It's a hard life for dogs. The sofa, on the other hand, will doubtless appreciate his decision. Natasha crosses her legs and leans back, watching the two of them a moment, then glancing around at the place—looking for signs of painting, probably. Or taking in the results.

"Don't let anyone say you're not a man who knows what he wants." There's a note of amusement in her voice, gentle but there's definitely a joke there. "He seems to be grateful for it, though."