sit, boy

Everest

Grumbling happily as Mateo opts to use his fingers rather than the brush, which, for anyone who knows Ever might be surprised by this, the canine relaxes slightly more and stretches out his neck for the botanist's fingers to reach into his ruff.

Cracking open a blue eye, the shepherd snaps at the air with bright white teeth. Whether it's in response to the G-Word or the threat offer of a bowtie is up to Mateo to decide. (It's both). Sitting up as Mateo flops down, Ever rises and pads a few feet away to retrieve his ball before tottering back to the botanist's side. Laying down, his hip immediately jutting out the side comfortably, Ever begins to gnaw at the tennis ball. With his nose wrinkling, he begins to peel away the fluff with precise and sharp snaps of his teeth, depositing them in a small pile near one paw.

If I told you that you'd do nothing with it
I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish