From the back of the car Dana was transfixed by the treat bag she could still just about
see over her human's shoulder. It emitted heavenly light and the voices of angels until
it was rudely obscured by a clipboard. Her human glanced at it: The Health and Safety
Executive Risk Assessment for Dog Walkers. Number 1. Trip Hazards.
"Trip hazards", her human muttered to himself, "This is one of the few jobs where they hurl themselves at me! And without them I wouldn't have a job!" His mind wandered off briefly - the ivory towers in which the HSE worked were presumably not very high - OK, enough, his body would have to catch up with his mind and start wandering very soon. He flipped the page to review today's schedule.
Dana knew the itinerary by heart, and often wondered why her human spent so much time faffing around. It was Rocky first. Obviously.
Rocky was a downtrodden creature from a household where he was expected not to jump up, not to bark, not to lick, and generally not to behave like a dog at all. His humans would have been better off getting themselves a Victorian child who knew its place. But, historical people breeders were far and few between, so Rocky became the underdog.