Genji's new puppy

The train tracks stretched on for as far as the eyes could see. The tracks rode between the patches of farm fields in the open countryside until the green grass touched the horizon. In the center of the farmland was a raised concrete platform with a roof, a long bench, and small enclosed area which housed a single toilet.

A man stood in the center of the station, hat, scarf, bandages, glasses, heavy coat and an earthy brown colored pair of trousers covering the man from head to toe, hiding his true form from the world. The only hint of Genji Shimada's identity was his left hand, down at his side holding a leather suitcase nearby as he waited for his train.

He waited for hours, almost like a statue against the cold spring winds that rushed through the open shelter, but even with his ninja discipline he could only stare out into the vacant budding fields for so long. Even he had a finite amount of attention to use until he got bored. He turned to go and take a seat by the bench, but as he moved to the seat something caught his eye. Placed between the end of the bench and a trash can was a small cardboard box. A life of constant danger had taught him to always be on his guard, that even the most mundane things in his surroundings could potentially be dangerous, but a piece of trash was simply a piece of trash. It wasn't until he saw it from a different perspective that he saw that it wasn't just common litter, but there was a sign on it.

Written in black marker was a single word, "Frei". He approached the open box and looked inside. Within, a small bundle of fur was wrapped up in an oval, eyes closed. The air was cold, there was no blanket, no food, and the box itself was damp and discolored and held the distinct scent of ammonia. It had been here for a while.

The cyborg ninja reached with his right hand into the box, but stopped when nothing happened. He set his suitcase down on the concrete and instead reached in with his left and scooped the puppy up, wrapping his hand underneath its body. He lifted it up into the air and immediately learned why it had been left here at the train station.

While all others extremities lead to tiny paws with full black pads, the dog's back left leg was rounded off at the first joint. Judging from the full coat of fur around the missing leg, it looked to have been natural and not an amputation.

The tiny animal woke from its sleep and looked around, feeling the cold spring air attack the side that it had been sleeping against in the box. It looked at the masked man who had pulled it from its shelter, and gave a whimper, waving around its legs and stump in the air uselessly until it was too tired and gave up.

He wasn't a veterinarian, but he couldn't recognize any particular breed in the dog. It had a short snout, short fine hair, and stretches of brown and black across its body. Until proven otherwise, he assumed it was a mutt.

Still examining the puppy, he began to piece two and two together, formulating his own hypothesis and guessing what he assumed to have been the true story behind the dog in a box. This life must have been the result of irrational ecstasy and lust. Someone's prized hound had a litter with someone else's family pet or local stray. Seeing this new being birthed into life deformed had caused a stir, it had been deemed by a council of hushed voices to not be worthy of sharing the house and thus an order was made to rid it of their sight.

But, for as much as the power to create life mesmerized and entitled those who possessed it, the duty to end suffering was far too crushing to accept. So out of cowardice, this innocent wounded soul was left here, the one to do the deed leaving the dog in an empty box to justify its cruelty, and left a sign for the world to know that its life was in god's hands now.

"That makes two of us." Genji said aloud to compliment his own story.

He pitied it. Fate had dealt it a cruel handicap in its life already, and suffering of this kind shouldn't be given to anyone or anything. Yet, Genji was just one man, a ninja running from his past to shape a new future. He couldn't know what had happened to this dog nor could he necessarily blame its previous master for leaving it to its fate. He was just one man, and there were countless dogs with countless problems in countless boxes at countless train stations all around the globe. Saving one puppy wouldn't change the world…

But it would change the world for this puppy.

He lowered the dog down and set the sleeping lump down on the bench. With one hand, he undid his coat and clumped it up, covering the animal up so it was safe from the elements except for its tiny nose. He took a seat next to it and continued to stare out into the horizon.

Eventually, a train rolled down the tracks. When it stopped for its new occupant, a conductor opened the door and stepped out. Genji stood, scooping up his heavy coat to hide his new baggage within, but when he reached for his suitcase, nothing happened. The conductor, seeing what he was trying to do as well as the sleeve of his shirt uselessly flaping in the wind walked out and picked up the luggage. Speaking in German, he greeted the man as he carried the luggage to the new occupant's private compartment.

He waited until the train began moving again to unbunch his coat, seeing his new friend look around at its new scenery before relaxing once more in its new comfy bedding. As the mutt relaxed again, Genji brought his left hand up to his chin and asked, "What am I going to call you?"

A line of identical brick houses with pointed alpine roofs lined the street. Each one had white shutters on the windows and a small fence marked off each home's property line from its back yard up to the sidewalk.

Genji closed the wire gate behind him as the cab drove away. He set his new traveling companion down and carried the rest of his baggage with his free hand. Saltine crackers and water had rejuvenated the little puppy's strength, and seeing this new world for the first time filled his tiny body with energy. Genji watched the dog, not sure if it would know how to walk on its own with its disability, but was surprised to see the little pup hop at his side, its remaining back leg able to allow locomotion.

The ninja approached the door and knocked, and through the door heard his sponsor call out that the door was unlocked. The cyborg set his luggage down and turned the knob, opening to door to enter, but once the way was clear stopped as a fierce barking split the air.

Genji had braved gunfire and explosions by both human and omnics who wanted nothing more than to kill him, but what he saw standing in the doorway caused him to take a step back. What had greeted him could have been one of Cerberus' relatives, a large hulking wolfdog with long white hair standing up on end and long pointed ears. Icy blue eyes stared the newcomer down, hinting at an instinctual and untamed ferocity bred from generations of wild savagery that lie within. Each thundering bark came behind a row of sharp and white pointed teeth, each gruff gravely growl sounding like the preamble to it pouncing the intruder.

Then another, even more attention-grabbing sound cut the air. The words, "Schweigen!" stopped the barking, "Fuss!" caused it to stop growling, "Hier!" caused the animal to drop its head in defeat and turn around, "Sitz!" caused it to drop to its bottom with its tail between its legs, and finally a repetition of "Nein, nein, nein," and a wag of a finger finished the beast.

Genji recognized the voice from long ago, the clear and direct way the commands from the dog's mistress was common in the operating room, but almost felt like a split personality when he considered who it was that was making them.

Dr. Angela Ziegler, PHD MD, was standing at the doorway to the home, wearing black stockings under a skirt, and a white sweater. Looking up to attend to her guest, she said, "Sorry Genji, Gretel can be mean when she meets strangers."

The traveler shook his head, "No need to apologize, doctor. I didn't know you had a dog."

"Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention it. Why don't you come in and we can get started."

"I suppose that's good to know, because I brought a new friend with me." Genji looked down at his side, but did not see his new companion where he had last checked. He began to turn his head and search the ground, meanwhile, the doctor tilted her head to the side, curious to see what he meant.

Fearing that he had forgotten the orphaned pup or that it had ran away in the commotion, Genji turned around and made his way to the road, fearing for the safety for the little dog running away in a blind panic. But before he could get too far, another round of barking grabbed his attention, but this time it seemed to be a way to signal him rather than intimidate.

The pure white dog was standing at the doorway again, but this time its head was dug deep inside a nearby bush at the front door to the city home. Her mistress, familiar with the signal, bent over and looked inside of her shrubbery to see what she wanted. She gasped, making a sound that could swoon the heart of any man as she threw both hands into the bush and came out with a small puppy.

"Oh, hello there. What happened to you, little baby?" she asked, holding the brown and black youngling up to her chest.

Genji returned, walking beside her and saying, "I found him in a box at a train station. I couldn't leave him there, so I decided to take him with me."

Angela turned to look at him, "Do you know if he's had his shots done? Rabies? Heartworm? Parvos? Flea and ticks?"

Genji didn't consider the added baggage that he had brought with him by bringing the dog and felt foolish now having to involve the doctor in something that he should have considered himself. Shamefully, he bowed his head and gave a no. If the doctor was frustrated with having to care for another animal in her life, she didn't show it. Instead, she whistled, bringing her pet to attention as she turned around and scratched the new dog behind the ear, whispering to it, "Don't worry now. I will watch over you."

Gretel sat in kitchen, bottom on the floor and tail slowly wagging across the cool tile floor. She sat with her ears up, listening to her owner and guest as they talked to each other, not wanting to be caught off guard and ready to obey any command at a moment's notice. Angela was at the sink, bottles of animal soap and anti-parasite washes lined up in a row as she scrubbed the puppy in the warm sudsy water. Meanwhile, Genji was at the table removing his disguise. Each layer of bandages and clothing removed showing how little of his human parts remained. Once undressed, he stood in the kitchen, revealing his right arm completely missing at the shoulder. He opened his suitcase, presenting all of the collected metal supports and all the scraps of chassis that he could find from the missing limb.

"So…" Genji began, "what kind of a dog is that?"

"I'm not really sure," Angela said, "I don't really recognize any particular traits, so I would say its probably a cross breed. With some testing a veterinarian may be able to discover the parentage."

"No, sorry. I meant your dog."

"Oh, Gretel is a White German Shepherd Dog. After what happened last time I thought it may be helpful to have an extra pair of eyes around to watch out for me and guard the house." The White Shepherd with a yellow collar stood at attention upon hearing its name, but then was at ease when no further commands were made.

"She is quite obedient, you must have trained her well."

"Yes, her parents were service dogs, and the rest of the litter are police hounds. To be honest I thought I could just have the trainer do all the work for me, but in reality I had to go to obedience school to control her and not the other way around."

The doctor kept her focus on the sink, doing a thorough job in washing away all of the elements that had abused the poor puppy's body and leaving no scrape uncleansed nor hair unwashed. When satisfied, she pulled him out of the sink and pulled the plug on the drain. She gave him a rinse, dried him with a towel, and then set him down next to a small dish of water and equally small bowl of dog food.

"I don't have any puppy food," she admitted, "but hopefully this will do for now." Done with her first charge, Angela turned around and attended to the undressed cyborg at the table, inspecting the wear and tear to the cybernetic armor and what could be salvaged from the amputated arm.

Their conversation and focus drifted to the topic of Genji's prosthetics, what had led to his current injury, and any tune ups that could be done when she had the opportunity to do so. On the floor, the little black and brown puppy had staggered his way over to the bowl of food and started to dig in. Sadly, the kibble was not crackers, and the large adult sized chunks of dog food were awfully tough for a little dog. But regardless, he took as many pieces as he could in his mouth and rolled them to the back of his jaw, grinding his little teeth as hard as he could to crack into the hardened food.

It took several layers of saliva to soften the food up until it was ready to break, and after all that work it felt as if the nourishment wouldn't be worth the effort. But before the stray could go for more food he stopped, seeing the guard who stopped them from entering the house the first time on the opposite of the bowl and looking down at him. The puppy stuck one of it paws out, shooing the bigger dog while at the same time trying to keep balance, and in response the White Shepherd tilted its head in confusion.

Gretel sat down on the cool tile floor, her tail sticking straight out like a full feather duster, and dipped her head into the dish, taking half of the food away in her mouth. Seeing this, the puppy whined and stomped his front paws on the ground. The older dog leaned its head back, letting the tabs of food fall to her back molars and gave the bunch a hearty crunch. When she was done, she leaned her head back down and opened her mouth, letting the bits of kibble fall to the floor near the bowl.

The stranger waited, watching to see what the much larger dog was going to do next, but only saw her remain seated, looking down that long nose of hers as she watched him. Nervous, he hopped to his paws and hobbled over to the regurgitated food on the ground and began to eat one after another, finding the pre-chewed meal much easier to handle with his baby teeth.

When the floor was clean, the white dog bowed its head once more and stuck its nose into the dish. Before she could reach any of the food though, she heard her master raise her voice and stood to attention. "Gretel, no! that's the puppy's food. Shoo. Go on now." The German Shepherd darted to her feet and scurried away, tail between her legs.

The doctor led her patient through the house to a small sitting room with a sagging old couch covered with a cloth, a dog bed in a corner and a fake fireplace and a TV on the mantle. "This is where I used to keep Gretel before she was fully trained. Your little friend should be fine in here while we're busy." The ninja followed his doctor's instructions, setting down his new pet at the doorway to the room. He waited for a moment and the doctor returned with a retractable wire gate and wedged it in the doorway, locking the puppy in without having to close the door.

The puppy watched as they disappeared around the corner and listened to their distant footsteps as they descended into the basement. He cried, thoughts of the box and the one who put him there returning to his young mind as the anxiety of separation set in. He remembered the cold, the wet, the isolation, and hunger of sitting in his box stretched on, days turning to night, hours stretching on to the point where he forgot what the world was like, and they only thing that he thought existed besides himself were four corners of brown paper.

But the more he thought of it, the more he realized how different things were now. Sure he was confined, but unlike before he could actually walk around in this place. The other place was cold, and there were bugs, and he was so hungry. Where he was now, he had a full belly, the cold was gone, and the bugs weren't biting him like before. He supposed it wasn't that bad.

He hopped to his three paws and began to limp his way around the room. Investigating and smelling all that he could at ground level. The fireplace and furniture were marred with clawmarks which slowly grew bigger and reached further the higher up they were. Strange brightly colored junk and tennis balls littered the floor, some deformed and ripped to pieces but then repaired with a line of needlework.

He slowed down as time went on, the warm water and funny smelling rub that was put on him had begun to dry. The evaporating water didn't feel right, it made his fur stick out and meld tighter in the wrong way. So he took a seat and with his remaining back leg he began to furiously scratch, itch, and comb his coat back into order the way he liked it, taking extra deep and long pulls into his ear to free the delicate feeler hairs around the opening.

When his left side was finished, he began on his right, instincts demanding that he dig and kick with a leg which simply didn't exist. He soon found out that having only one side of his body groomed to his liking was far more irksome than having none at all. He rolled on the carpet, rubbed his face into the ground, shimmied his back against the carpet, and even hopped his entire length against the protective cover of the couch, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't groom it right.

Huffing in frustration, the puppy sat his rump back down and gave a loud wine. If he couldn't do it, then everybody was going to know about it. But unlike when he was in the box, crying, barking and howling just for the sake to prove that sound existed, his cries were soon answered by another.

He turned and found the big white dog from earlier standing at the barrier, her great size allowing her to tower an entire head over the gate easily. He cried once more, and she backed up a step, lowering herself to the floor like a spring being compressed until she shot over the temporary fencing and landing in the sitting room, clearing it with ease.

Once inside, the dog with a bright yellow collar circled the room, inspecting all of her belongings before she lowered to her haunches and then lay flat on the carpet. The puppy approached its host and rolled over, greeting the older dog with a submissive pose.

Gretel waited for him to roll back over to his front before she raised her paws and pinned him to the spot. The puppy kicked and whined as she moved and held him down until he was right where she wanted him. When ready, she bowed her head down and stuck out her tongue, its smooth and warm pink texture combing through his hair, hitting all of the spots that he missed.

For several minutes, Gretel groomed her guest until she was satisfied and released him. The puppy, happy to use its regained freedom, hopped to its paws and ran around in circles. With her work done, Gretel stood up and approached the old couch and climbed up, circling until she was satisfied with her sitting arrangements and laid down to take a nap.

The puppy stretched himself out and hopped around the room once more. Now that his mind was off the need to scratch himself, he wandered back to all the strange shapes that littered the sitting room floor. Underneath the couch were big balls with bright pink and lime green colors, scattered around the floor were all sorts of fuzzy and strangely shaped cloth toys. There were thin dogs that were longer than he was, fish made of tough reinforced fabric, and alligators and piggies that would sometimes make a high pitched squeak when he stepped on them.

But there was something wrong about them all. It wasn't that they were deformed, or were etched with stitch marks and dried saliva, but that they all had a certain smell to them, and with it came the knowledge that they belonged to someone else. He began searching, hopping around the room, checking under the couch and chairs, around every corner and inside of a basket overflowing with toys looking for something that hadn't been claimed yet. Although it started because of boredom, his searching became more frantic when an itch and burn began to grow in his mouth. A puppy of his age was still experiencing growing pains, and as he scampered across the room on three legs, his teeth and gums made their presence abundantly clear to him.

Just when he couldn't take the pain any longer, he found something to make his own. While every chair, toy and the couch was covered with a sprinkling of fine white hairs, the dog bed in the corner was completely unclaimed by any four legged member of the household. Without hesitation, he pounced the large rectangular dog beg and buried his head into its cushion, latching onto any give that he could and ripping and tearing with his teeth. His little tiny pincers hooked into the fabric and took ahold of its texture, acting as a floss to his aching gums.

The bed was tough, and it put up a fight which to this tiny mutt was the most fun he had experienced in his short life. He ripped and tore and scratched and bit and pulled and barked and showed no mercy to the animal mattress. The fight was tough, and the bed was harder, but progress was eventually made. The stitches gave a cry of pain as the sewing was finally broken and a rip was made. The puppy showed the wounded opponent no quarter as the sound refilled his strength and he went further with his attack.

He didn't stop until the mattress was defeated, its fluffy white guts disemboweled around him as he stood victorious over its corpse.

The fight was fun, but it was tiring. The puppy looked around for a place to rest and remembered the big dog on top of the couch. She would probably be okay to sleep with. The puppy hopped his way over to the couch and stood up on its hind leg and stretched as far as he could to get up on the couch, but was too short.

He cried, whined, and banged his paws against the couch to wake the larger dog, and sure enough she did. But th gradual opening of her eyes turned to wide eyed shock when she saw the fluffy white cotton covering the ground of the sitting room. She growled at the puppy, swatting him with a quick slap of her big paw. But her punishment went unnoticed to the puppy as he jumped back up and cried at her for help.

Surveilling the carnage made her growl grow deeper, but then her ears perked up, hearing something from within the house. Silent, she listened to make sure her hearing was correct, and when undoubtedly sure she sprung to her feet and got off the couch.

The puppy whined, still wanting to get up on the couch and sleep as well, but jumped when he felt the larger dog behind him. Gretel bent her head down, placing her snout right on the mutt's bottom, and shot him up, throwing the puppy up onto the cushiony couch.

He barked his thanks, and waited for her to come up as well. Instead, Gretel sat down on the floor right in the center of his fresh kill. He barked again, and in response Gretel laid down on the carpet.

Giving up on her, the puppy hopped his way over to where she had been sleeping earlier and settled down, first feeling the incredible warmth that she had generated on the couch coming off on his little paws. He rolled himself up into a bundle, right in the center of the hot spot. If she wasn't going to come back to this warm bed then it was her loss.

The puppy was about to fall asleep again until a barrage of angry German filled the air, and he found the White Shepherd cowering in the corner, cotton puffs sticking to her white fur.

Dogs may not understand the exact concept of time, but one thing they do know is routine. With their master's following the same habits on a daily basis, a dog can learn the series of events that lead to a predictable outcome. They can understand when a buzzing starts on a nightstand that their human is about to wake and take a shower before leaving for the day, or how a series of shifts and turns in a car means that the car ride they are on is about to end. Like all dogs, Gretel knows that nighttime dinner and being let out to go potty in the dark meant that it was getting close to bedtime.

With or without guests in the house, Gretel understood that now was the time for her to go on duty as the guard of the estate. She started her patrol as usual, pacing through the house and entering every room. While Angela cleaned the dishes, Gretel patrolled up to the windows of the house and looked outside, growling at anyone who stopped on the sidewalk for more than two seconds. When Angela locked the door to her bedroom, Gretel walked around the ground floor and inspected every door, smelling for any foreign scents in the air. When Angela was lying in her bed reading a book by the nightstand's lamp, Gretel continued patrolling through the dark house, investigating every room and even going down to the big locked door in the basement.

Every fifth round through the house, Gretel entered into Angela's room, slinking through the open door and checking to see that her Mistress was content. On the fourteenth visit into Angela's bedroom Gretel walked up beside the bed and sat down, reporting to her owner that the premise was secure.

Angela, having adapted to the routine herself, set the book on the nightstand and turned the light off. When ready, she opened up the covers and beckoned in her dog in her native tongue.

"[Gretel, why don't you come in and sleep with Mom-ma?]" She sang.

The White German Shepherd got to her feet and sprung up into the bed. Performing her final inspection for the night, Gretel stepped underneath the sheets and dove deep into the covers, inspecting the bed for any intruders that may have slipped by and were hiding underneath her Mistress' nose. When satisfied, she slid to the opening in the covers and flipped onto her side.

Angela buttoned herself up right beside the large dog and wrapped her arms around her, preparing for the surprise benefit of owning a pet like Gretel, a cure for narcolepsy.

Angela didn't know how much work getting a dog would be for a single person, but as she soon found out having to care for and live with someone else was good for her wellbeing. There was never any consequence for taking long hours at the hospital or doing an all-nighter downstairs in the lab, and because of that super fluid schedule, her daily routines were scattered and inconsistent. An active mind left alone and unchecked acted only in its self-interests, sleeping only when it was tired, or eating when the hunger was too much, or exercising only when the bathroom scale embarrassed her.

Having a loyal companion freed her from the bachelorette lifestyle. It gave her a reason to go home, to go out and take a walk when the weather was nice, to go meet new people, and also a warm body to share the bed at night and confide her hidden feelings to.

Angela wrapped her arms around the big dog and rubbed her cheek into her big fluffy head. She wrapped her smooth legs around Gretel's tail and raked her fingernails in the space between her back legs and ribs where the fur was softest. Normally, she would be wearing a soft nightgown, but since she had company for the night, she had to default to athletic shorts and a t-shirt.

"[I'm sorry I scolded and swatted you today, sweetie.]" The human apologized, rubbing against the soft warm body in her bed. "[I know you were just trying to help that puppy, but he needs to learn the rules around the house one way or another.]" Angela reached her hands up and wrapped them around Gretel's muzzle, arching the dog's nose straight up to look at her. "[I'm sure you'll make a great mother someday.]" and with that she gave the dog a kiss on her nose.

Gretel licked at the spot and Angela released her head, moving back down to hold her close and nuzzled Gretel on top of the head. She didn't care if she woke up with hair in her mouth or had fur in her nostrils; it was worth it for a good night's sleep.

But all was not well inside the house, for there was a loud and constant cry that echoed through the halls of the home. The first nights of adopting a dog are always the hardest, and this puppy was no exception. Angela, having already experienced this once in the recent years, tried to tune out the unnecessary cries for help, but Gretel wasn't as eager to ignore him.

Angela had already come to expect Gretel to leave her in the middle of the night for a number of reasons, but tonight her squirming and ears flipping around to listen was obvious. Seeing that her bedmate wasn't going to relax, Angela released her canine and whispered, "[Go ahead, Gretel. Go see your baby.]"

Permission granted, Gretel wormed her way out of the bed, sliding between the covers until she reached the edge of the mattress. There, she slid her front legs down to the floor and walked out, dragging her body and back legs across the cliff until they were free and fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Angela held the blankets and sheets so the German Shepherd didn't take it all with her.

Gretel stalked through the home back to the sitting room from before and walked in. The gate was set aside in the doorway, not in use, and all of the white cotton had been picked up and destroyed dog bed thrown away. The fake fireplace was active, showing a recording of flames across its digital display, but did not generate any heat. In front of the fireplace was a wire metal cage, closed and layered with old blankets and towels, and on top of that was the source of the late night noise in the house.

Gretel recognized the cage. She used to have to sleep in it before she grew too big for it and was trained to watch the house at night. Gretel approached, stopping the sobbing of the puppy. The German Shepherd thought for a moment, and then brought her face close to the cage, feeling the different textures of the bars with her nose. She felt, looking for the feeling of something familiar from when she was on the other side of the bars, and when she did, she pushed her nose against it and raised her paw to the spot. Using nose and toes, she moved a piece of the cage until she heard a click, and like the distant memories of her more rebellious years, the cage door opened.

The puppy barked with joy at his freedom, but before he could escape, he saw the big white savior block the opening to the cage and lay down. He barked again, demanding to know what was going on, and in response Gretel stuck her big head into the cage and gave the puppy a gentle lick.

Earlier in the night he had cried because this cage was like the box, he was trapped isolated and contained inside of its wire walls. But in that moment he realized something that quelled his cries and cured his sadness. What had made the life a nightmare inside the box wasn't the hunger, or the cold, or the rain, or the bugs, but the loneliness. At that moment he realized that the big white dog with a yellow collar who had opened the door wasn't there to free him of any earthly shackals, but instead to liberate him of the crushing bonds of loneliness. It was there as she stuck her head into the tiny cage that she made it abundantly clear that no matter where he was or what people thought was wrong with him, he was not alone.

The puppy crawled on his three legs up to his hostess and rubbed his face against her mask. He rolled himself up into a tiny ball and fell asleep as Gretel rubbed her cheek against him all night.

In the morning, Angela found Genji standing at the doorway to the sitting room, standing silent and still in the morning light.

Although still in her sleepwear, the doctor approached the doorway and stopped beside him, trying to see what he was looking at.

There, she found her big White Shepherd sleeping on the ground with her head stuck inside of a cage that she had outgrown over a year and a half ago. Curled up beside her nose was her patient's new puppy, likewise sound asleep, but cramped in the cage against his hostess' snout.

The doctor took the sight in for a few moments before whispering, "You know, I really should take a picture of this while I can." Genji agreed, but neither of the humans dared move from the spot or miss one adorable second. After another minute of shared silence Angela said, "You know, one of the women that I play Badminton with is a veterinary scientist. If you don't mind staying for a while longer, I bet she could outfit him for prosthetics like yours."

"Yeah. That would be nice."

The scene was touching, but it couldn't last forever. Angela was about to call the dogs to wake up and go potty, but stopped herself when she realized that Genji's didn't give the dog a name yet. She brought this to his attention, and after a moment to think about it he turned to the two trying to share the cage and gave his answer.

"Hansel."