2021-12-04 - Puppy vs. Pacific

It's date night, and Chris has some manner of surprise up his sleeve. Which is to say, he hasn't told Fae what the plans are-- only to keep casual and that they'll be outside at least part of the time.

He's dressed in a waffle-knit forest green sweater over his trusty pair of blue jeans, with a fleece coat for an extra layer of warmth.

While he waits for his date to get ready, he's busy throwing the tennis ball across the house, making a hollow THONK noise as it smacks against the kitchen cupboard, the door to the pantry, and then hard floors. Hot on its heels, the sounds of Chief's claws skittering across the hard floors as he chases it in hot pursuit, only to overestimate his ability to stop yet again, leading to a skidding noise and a subsequent thunk as he bumps into a kitchen cabinet. It was becoming a predictable pattern.

"Where are we going though? You have to tell me!" Fae calls out from the bedroom, haphazardly throwing on clothes while the puppy goes about the capture of his prized tennis ball. "You know if you don't tell someone where they're going it's basically kidnapping," she reports, doing what she can to yell over the pitter-patter of paws that haven't yet grasped the concept of how fetch works, no take, only throw seems to be Chief's version.

She pads on out of the hall deciding that the carrot outfit is probably best for anything that might be happening outside in the current weather. "I require at least a single clue and you have to tell me if I guess it right." she spunkily smirks, bopping over to Chris and smooching up on him a bit. "One clue." she reiterates, holding up her index finger.

"Who wants to go for a ride?" Chris delivers in an excited-sounding voice that Chief has already figured out means he's getting in the pickup. The dalmatian puppy starts chasing his tail like crazy before leaping with excitement up and down and up and down and up and down.

"See, that's two more hints. We have to drive there, and Chief can go. That's alongside the other hints of partly-outdoors and dressing casually," Chris gives a defiant look as he keeps the information flow to only a dribble. He shares a quick peck to his girl's cheek before fleeing toward the coat closet for the leash. Chief's ferocious tail-wagging could probably power the house if they hooked him up to a generator.

Fae's eyes narrow, still trying to process the possibilities. "Well, he's a certified comfort animal so he can go anywhere really." that's not legit, but sometimes if you say that places will let you bring your dog inside anyways, especially if it's a cute puppo. "Come here, Chief, lets get you hooked up and ready to go." she hums, kneeling down and clipping the leash onto his harness.

"Are you excited to go and pee on new things?" she queries the pooch, patting his head a few times before her attention flickers over to Chris. "I think we're ready." phone, keys, purse, check. "Should we blindfold the dog so it's more of a surprise?" she jests, opening the door as the canine in question bolts on out, trying his best to get to the truck quickly even if he has to dislocate Chris' arm in the process.

Unfortunately for Chief, he's more likely to hang himself on the end of the harness leash than tug Chris along, at least at this young age. "I don't think a barely-housetrained puppy is going to fool anybody into providing any services," he teases, leading his gang over to the passenger's side of the pickup.

After he opens the door, Chief jumps into the passenger's seat and gives Fae a head-tilted look like that seems to say, "bitches get in the rear." Unfortunately for the puppy, he's just hitting barely ten pounds, and he can't call shotgun in a legally-binding manner.

Chris gets the motor and heater going as he puffs a few breaths of hot air on his cold fingers. "Who's hungry?" he questions in the same kind of voice he asked about going for a ride, which sends Chief into further heights of excitement.

Fae scoots into the seat as Cheif roos a few times and wallers across her lap, her cheeks dimpling up as she gives him a few more pets, just to solidify that being a noisy boy is rewarded. Nobody said she was a professional dog trainer, most of the time it's the owner that really needs the obedience training even more than the dog and she plans to live up to that and spoil the furball. "I could eat." that means she's starving, Chris knows that full well by now.

"What'd you have in mind?" her eyebrows wiggle, thinking she's being sneaky about determining their destination, he has to tell her where they're planning to go now right? She was starting to get as anxious as Chief at this point, but Chief had plenty of butt pats to calm him down and she didn't have anyone rubbing her bottom, what a hard life.

What, indeed, does he have in mind?

"Oh, I think I'm going to turn left," Chris answers with a smug little grin as he backs out of the driveway. Exactly like he told her, he does turn left onto the residential street, taking them toward just about everything in the city.

He focuses on the road for a few minutes, ignoring his girlfriend's attempts at prying information from him as he keeps a sly little grin. He reaches for the power button on the radio, and via his phone and the magic powers of Bluetooth, a Mister Denver begins singing a song about country roads taking him home.

And hey, isn't that Arby's up there on the right?

"You didn't say you were taking us someplace nice." Fae coos, her pale grey eyes admiring the Arby's in the distance, she can almost smell the curly fries. "Chief hasn't ever had a curly fry and that's really sad. The poor little guy doesn't even know what he's missing." how will he ever go on without knowing the splendor of them. Her mouth waters, face all but pressed against the window of the truck with Chief's doing the same.

That's when the singing begins, it's like she's the bizarro world version of Loretta Lynn, entirely unable to keep even the slightest of tunes. "Country roads, take me home, to the place where I where I belong! To an Arby's, roast beef and curlies, take me home, country roads." why they haven't picked this monstrosity up in their advertisement scheme to sell more overpriced roast beef sandwiches is beyond me, John Denver and Arbys just go hand in hand.

Chris reaches over as if he's going to give Chief some nice loving, but his hand slides down to squeeze at his girls' thigh instead. As if jealous of the attention, the dalmatian promptly sits down on his hand, leaving it trapped but quite warm as he eases the pickup up to the drive-through ordering station.

"You're going to waste your curly dries on the dog?" he teases with a mischievous glint to his eye. He sets his head onto her shoulder as he gives the menu a once-over, but it doesn't take long; nothing's changed since the last trip.

"I'll have a large spicy jalapeno brisket meal with a Dr. Pepper," he orders into the intercom void. The order taker's voice might as well be straight out of Charlie Brown's classroom. After nudging Fae to give her usual spiel of fifteen sandwiches, he appends, "And a Molton Lava Cake" to their order. It's date night, baby!

Fae barks out her own order which includes basically everything but the kitchen sink, her mouth running a mile a minute as the entity of the nonsense if given to the poor kid with the headset on the other end of that speaker, their fingers struggling to keep up. "....and a small curly fry for Chief." she's not planning on wasting anything, she'll get the little guy his own curly fry.

None the wiser the spotted bundle of cuteness doesn't react to the good news quite yet. "Are we having an Arby's picnic?" she murmurs over to Chris, still trying to connect those dots like some sort of conspiracy theorist who is all but sure that jet fuel doesn't melt steel beams. "Because I'm totally down for an Arby's picnic." she sure is, you can tell because her smile is about to break her entire face.

It's a good thing that between them, they're making pretty good money now because Arby's is taking just about all of it. It's also probably a good thing that the intercom things are voice-only because Chris's hand at her thigh does a little bit of rummaging around while she's ordering; it's a little bit of teasing, a little bit a tickling, with the remainder all falling squarely into molestation.

"Well, we have our song and our food," he shares with an adoring smile. And I guess our dog, but he doesn't get a mention. Sorry, Chief. "So I thought we'd go have a picnic where we met and watch some waves, and let Chief run on the beach."

A few girlish giggles leak out as Chris's fingers tickle her thigh. "That...sounds....fun." she breathily responds, that giggle turning into a full-on laugh as she wiggles from his grasp, too bad her seatbelt has her caught and there isn't really any escape. "Chief...protect me." she commands, but that dog doesn't know any commands yet, it also probably wouldn't bite the hand that feeds, especially when that hand is about to have curly fries in it.

Some playfully and flirty swatting ensues as they roll up to the window "Quit it you mangy animal." she chortles in good humor, speaking entirely to Chris, because Chief has papers, he's a pure breed and isn't at all a mangy mutt. An apologetic peck finds it's way to Chris's cheek right after, sometimes you say things you don't mean when you're about to asphyxiate on tickling.

"I love you Tiger." she voices, getting all mushy as the teenager with his finger in his nose opens the window and declares 'That'll be $26.34' they could have had a steak dinner for that...I mean at Chilis, but still.

Chief thinks he's getting some kind of bun rubs because he wiggles his rear end on their squirming hand-and-lap play. He shows no mercy until they're at the window, and he has to withdraw the digits to fish out his card and pay.

That's just about when Chief abandons her seat to come over to the strange window-person and howl territorially, but since he's little and cute, Chris just finds it adorable.

"To be continued," he murmurs playfully toward his Fae's ear as he forks over his hard-earned money to the evil roast beef place. The teen hands him a paper bag full of their purchased lucre, which he tries his best to hold up near the pickup's roof to avoid getting dog nose all over it.

"I have the meats!" he triumphantly declares as he ferries them Fae's direction. The dog isn't nearly as interested in the drinks, which he deposits into the front cupholders.

The bag of tasty Arby's treats switches hands, Chief struggling to get those much-needed sniffs in, she attempts to hide it by her side but the crafty creature knows full well the humans are keeping something from him...something delicious. "Chief wants a curly fry doesn't he?" you can't wait to eat the curly fries, nobody has the willpower to do it.

Pulling the small curly fry from the brown paper sack she filches one of them for herself, having no qualms in stealing from a puppy because she's just a monster. The whimpering has already started and they still haven't even pulled from the window. "Shake." she tells the impatient boy, taking his paw and performing a handshake manually with it before handing over the crispy treat. "Good boy." he didn't do anything, well, besides munching down a swirly potato at the speed of light.

Chris is at the mercy of his passenger's generosity, stuck behind the wheel and with a puppy butt on his legs. But Chris knows how to shake, as his outstretched hand quickly proves. He's a good boy, that Chris, and clearly deserves curly fries as a reward. He even sticks his tongue out and pants excitedly; you know how they say that pets resemble their owners?

"Oh? We have two good boys in the truck don't we?" she chortles, dangling a swirl of deep-fried potatoes over her boyfriend's mouth that seems to spark jealousy in the eyes of the other good boy. "What other tricks do you know?" her grin wanders across her cheek, a touch of provocation filling the air along with the aroma of awesome.

Fae! Not around the kids! The way to a woman's heart really is roast beef and cheddar though, there's no doubt about it. "You're too cute." she expressively hums, her teeth curling from her lips.

Chris tries to lift his chin up and open his mouth to create a cavernous spot in which one could readily drop a curly fry... without taking his eyes off the road.

As to the answer to her question, Chris starts belting out the final verse to, "Take me hoooooome," which has been playing on repeat for the last three iterations. Chief seems to think that it's howling time, and he adds his immature puppy call to Chris's noise-making.

But they aren't going home, so it's a pretty silly song to be singing. He's headed toward the boardwalk, which just happens to be the next song on the list after John Denver's one song grows tiresome. Speaking of one-hit wonders, how about The Drifters? Because it's Under the Boardwalk time!

A few more curly fries are given out before Fae finishes the small curly fry off herself. "All gone," she reports to a sad-faced puppy, who's smart enough to know there are more in the bag, he can smell them, stop lying Mom! "Do you think he's going to try and jump right into the water or is he going to be scared of it?" you never know when a dog is going to be apprehensive of hitting the waves or not, or when they'll be smart enough not to jump into something cold enough to cause hypothermia.

"I hope we have a towel in case he does escape while you're getting the Arby's sauce packets open and hops in, he'll be a pupscile pretty much instantly." that's legit, but who keeps towels in their truck? I mean besides Fae, she may or may not have read the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and taken it as a true manual for life.

Chris gives Chief a brief glance and a shrug of his shoulder. "You know, I have no idea what to expect, but he'll probably find it fun. He's a puppy. Everything is fun."

He gives the pupper a little bump. "Worst case, he can ride in the back while we're headed home." He's put a dog crate back there since he's still too small to not slide around all over the place in the truck bed.

He's soon pulling into the boardwalk public lot, which has as much sand kicked up from the beachgoers as gravel. "We're here!" the fireman exclaims, lighting up at the side of the piers and the smell of fried everything.

"Now, keep an eye out for that massive crevasse that threatens to devour the planet," he asides, "But I'm pretty sure that was a reference to someone bending over."

"He'll freeze to death back there." Fae chuckles, wrapping the doggo up in her arms before cradling him like a baby. "He has to be in here where it's warm." we'll see how long that lasts, once he's a few months old he might be riding in that kennel more than not.

As she goes to open the door he flops around like a fish out of water, eagerly escaping her arms and getting out of the truck to pee on things. "Alright, wait for a second, I have to put the leash back on you or you'll get sent to the pound for being a bad boy." she grins, rounding her eyes and going over to take him by his harness and obey the law before puppy swat jumps out from the boardwalk to get them.

Flashing her gaze back at Chris she owlishly widens her eyes. "Um? Are there giant crevasses that are going to devour the planet though? Because I wouldn't be surprised with the stuff I've already seen here." the myth isn't busted, it's plausible in her mind.

"I mean, I shot a giant iguana in the face last week in the park, and then it chased my truck about a block. If there are giant crevasses trying to eat us I won't be surprised at all." she seems to be adapting pretty quickly to life here, but maybe the veil just kind of does that to people, makes the abnormal seem more mundane.

Chuckling, Chris emerges from the driver's side and locks up the pickup behind them. "Now you know why dealing with prank calls in this town is so annoying. And since I'm Mr. Shiny, I usually try and handle them myself, in case they're actually legit."

He lifts a hand up to comb through his air as he works his way around the front of the pickup. "I'm basically a Ghostbuster," he teases with a proud smile.

Sharing some of the task of carrying the drinks, food, and dog, Chris guides the troublemakers toward the pier's bench and table area. Using it while not ordering from the food court is probably frowned upon, but so is gossiping about the young couple with the cute puppy and the Arby's bag. They're all just jealous.

"Here's my sandwich," he rummages through the bag and adds his large fry and drink. "Here's yours." The remaining seven sandwiches are left in the mystery zone. They're probably ending up in Chief.

Seats are taken and scarfing begins, that abysmally small curly fry from the car wasn't even close to enough. Arby's must be decimated and Chief is more than happy to help if the task is too big for Fae and Chris. "I didn't know they even had a food court. I guess it was pretty late last time I was here and I was kind of distracted by a handsome fireman." it was probably Chris, don't worry.

"Shake." she states to Chief, taking his paw again and repeating the Arby's training regiment. "He'll be shaking all on his own by next week for sure." the confidently yammers between chomps of cheesy roast beef. "We need to teach him that trick where they balance a treat on their nose and catch it in their mouth on command, that would be super cool." she's overtly optimistic about the possibilities of having a rad dog that knows a million tricks to impress random people with when she's out walking him.

The eating area, such that it is, is four round tables with aging navy umbrella coverings that are covered with seagull poop. The little feathered dinosaurs prowl the wooden planks, hoping to snag a bit of fried shrimp or french fry. None of them are brave enough to come close to Chief, however, although the allure of food has captured most of the puppy's attention.

"He's a dog, not a dolphin," Chris points out amid healthy bites from his jalapeno roast beef. He dabs some of the cheesy sauce from the corner of his mouth with a crumbled up Arby's napkin and then dunks the end of one of the enormous stockpile of curly fries into some zesty sauce.

"So did this iguana from the park try and save you fifteen percent on your car insurance?" he questions after a savory bite.

"Some dogs think they're dolphins." Fae chortles, wagging a tiny piece of roast beef from her sandwich over to the plausibly aquatic doggo. "Rachel's lab used to jump into the creek and eat crawdads out of it as soon as you let him out the door. I'm just sayin' dogs and dolphins aren't that far apart. They're both pretty much the same thing." she amusedly flashes her teeth over to her man with a cool smile, before returning to getting her grub on.

On the topic of the dragon situation, she piggishly snorts, shaking her head to Chris. "I think that's a gecko that saves you on your car insurance, not an iguana." that's vastly closer than a dog and a dolphin, but hey, whatever. "I guess it would have saved me 100% on my car insurance if it would have just destroyed by truck, you don't have to pay insurance on a vehicle you don't have." she taps the side of her hear, what a life hack.

"You also don't have to pay car insurance if you're dead from a giant lizard murdering you." she cartoonishly grimaces, Gray Harbor is a scary place, that's for sure. "There were also giant bee people with spears and stuff, they were kinda nice though."

Chris tugs his coat a little closer to his frame when a gust of wind blows through. The ocean keeps away the freezing temperatures, but the upper forties isn't a ton of fun when it has the seaside breeze. However, warm food seems the perfect balm for the late Autumnal chill, even if it might only be food as a technicality.

"Are you sure you haven't become a hippy and gotten into some acid? Because to a neutral third party, you sound like you're pretty high right now," Chris observes with a sly smile. Who knows where this neutral third party is? Maybe it's Chief.

The fireman reaches for one of the curly fries and dangles it tantalizingly above the puppy's nose. Then, he pats at his rear and tells him to "Sit!" Best to start with the basics, no? It takes about three tries before he complies, at which point he's rewarded with the spicy treat, and he immediately reaches for a follow-up.

Her mouth rounds in feigned offense as she huffs "I ain't on drugs! That giant dinosaur thing is what messed up the park." she can't help but dimple her cheek with her lips, enjoying the lighthearted teasing Chris is tossing her way. "Weirder things have happened...probably." she hums.

It's time for sandwich number three, but this is about the point where she starts to slow down. The first two were inhaled fast enough that a long blink may have missed part of the eating process. "I don't think hallucinogenics really work like that anyway." she tosses out the line like some sort of scientist, adjusting some pretend glasses just to really sell the statement home.

"Good boy Chief, you're so smart, wook at how smwart you are! Mommy's widdle handswome boy." it will never end, this day will be baby talked it's entire life, even a decade from now when he's old and grey he's still going to be "Mommy's handswome widdle boy."

Arby's roast beef sandwiches are pretty inefficient from a price to meal ratio for a dalmatian, but it's pretty clear they're going to have some extra eats.

"Look at what mommy ordered you!" Chris exclaims to the dog in his most excited voice. Chief's wagging tail could probably take the logs off of elderly ladies or scythe through weedy fields. The man elects to feed him one pinched chunk at a time, making him sit appropriately for each.

"I don't want to imagine what kind of gas this cheesy beef is going to give this poor dog, but I imagine it'll be comparable to the stuff of nightmares," he foretells, waggling his brows for the omen of doom.

Herding his trash toward the emptied-out bag, Chris cleans his hands with a napkin and glances toward the ocean with a wistful smile. "Beach time?"

Half a dozen nods follow along beside Chris as Fae similarly goes to dispose of her trash and get to the beach walking. "Taming this dolphin dog is going to be easier than I thought, he's actually really quick to pick up the basic tricks." she chatters, retaining half a box of curly fries for the beach journey.

"Alright, Mister Sandy Paws. Let's get on down there." she beams, not minding that chilly wind because she's got her two favorite guys and curly fries.

"They're really smart," Chris replies over his shoulder as he leads her down the spiral wooden staircase to the strip of beachfront. Whether it's dogs or dolphins that are smart is unclear.

There aren't many beachgoers this time of year, with the time long past when the clam- and crab-hunters patrol for their crustacean treats. Chris finds an old piece of driftwood that isn't all that large to use as a stick, and once they're far enough away from everyone, he kneels down to unleash Chief and let him run free, playing fetch and frolicking in the chilly ocean foam.

"Look," Chris indicates the puppy as he slings an arm around his girl's waist. After being splashed by a brisk wave, Chief's taken to barking at the next incoming wave, only to backpedal and run when it isn't deterred. He then chases the retreating water, only to start the cycle all over again.

"Brilliant."

A brightening beam glows from Fae as she raises up on her tiptoes to lend her lips to Chris's "You're brilliant." she lovingly coos, squeezing into his side afterward as the silly dog has the time of his little life. "You show that ocean who the boss is Chief." she calls out, girlishly giggling as the war of canine and sea continues. "I have $100 on the ocean, is that wrong of me to bet against my own dog?" she secretively confesses to Chris, not wanting Chief to overhear the betrayal.

Chris wraps his girl into a big bear hug and lifts her from the ground. His smile stretches from ear to ear. "Who's a good girl? You are!" he yammers excitedly before giving Fae a big smack on the forehead, nose, and then lips.

After a playful spin over the sand, he sets her down as Chief continues to wage his vengeance at the relentless cold waves. "What would a Chief victory even look like in this case? The ocean water receding back from the shore like it's said to happen before a great tsunami?" He's not about to wager his hundred bucks on that outcome.

"I'm a good girl." she chortles with a wide simper, returning Chris's affection with plenty of her own before her feet hit the sand again. "I'm not sure what a victory for a dog vs ocean brawl would look like...but I assume it involved Chief peeing in the world's biggest pool." the ocean is actually full of pee already if you think about it, so you probably just shouldn't.

There was no arguing from Chris. She was, in fact, a very good girl. The dog, however, was pretty derpy. "C'mon, Chief," he tries to get his attention with only his voice and eventually settles for nudging him with the driftwood stick.

"Go get it!" He hurls it down the beach and gives chase, which only causes him to snag the stick and dance around ahead.

Fae didn't think Chief was too derpy, he just had that energetic puppy energy which really went hand in hand with her own usual spunkiness, he had already mastered a couple of tricks, so he must be smart...right? "He's so funny, I love him." she high-spiritedly hums, enjoying a couple of the curly fries that she'd been stashing in the box that she still had in her possession.

"So what's next on the relationship agenda? We've moved in together, we got a dog together, we did the sexy time thing. Is it to early to buy a timeshare we'll never use?" it might be, that's pretty advanced relationship stuff. "I mean, more than once, everyone uses their time share at least one time." she playfully jokes.

An acceptable argument could be made that all puppies are a little derpy, including the one trying to herd the Pacific Ocean.

Chris rolls his shoulder as the couple walks the beach, an arm slung around the shoulder of his girl. "I don't know. A vacation sounds like fun, but a timeshare? Branson is a really long drive from here." He casts a sidelong grin.

"We haven't even hit a month yet. Are you already ready for all the steps?" His free arm swings at his side as he looks out into the waves. "And what should we do for Christmas?"

"We could always go to Silver Dollar City and then stop by the farm and get my bun buns and stuff." Fae considers the topic of vacations, seeming entirely fine with Branson as an option. "It is a long drive though." she knows that all too well, it's -really really- far.

Her eyes peek upwardly to Chris confidently backing her words, "I'm ready for all the steps, we have a good thing going. I don't really think we should buy a timeshare though, that's kind of a waste of money most of the time." clever girl. "We could always go back to Peculiar for Christmas, you could meet my Dad and Uncle Harold...and hopefully not get shot." she curls her lips, nudging him with her elbow as she teases.

"It's probably cheaper to just fly, once you account for the wear-and-tear on the pickup," Chris figures, tapping at his chin. Was he really considering it? It seemed crazy after only a few weeks, and he's not entirely sure he wouldn't get shot on such a trip.

"Maybe we could take a trip down the coast. They filmed The Goonies not too far from here, down in Astoria and along the Oregon coast." He grins, "It's a pretty drive."

"That sounds fun too!" she coos, more than happy to take a Goonies themed vacation. "We'll have to watch The Goonies before we go though, I'm pretty sure the last time I saw that I was, like 6 and my Uncle talked the whole time about how he did a better truffle shuffle." Uncle Harold can certainly do a hell of a truffle shuffle, it's very plausible that he could defeat Chunk.

"I only really remember the part where the big kid said he could smell ice cream, that was my favorite...and the HeY YoU gUyS!" she laughs lightheartedly at her poor impression. "So a refresher course is in order."

Her lips pull from her teeth in a sweet smile, belatedly considering the flying option. "We could fly home for Christmas, I didn't think of that." the yee haws of her little family can almost be heard all the way from Missouri.

Chris gives Fae a little bump with his elbow. "Goonies never die," he agrees, settling on the vacation idea. The backlog of vacation ideas was getting pretty long at this point, but such is the way of things.

Chris is happy to simply walk and be, feeling the crunch of the sand underfoot and listen to the crash of the ocean waves. Meanwhile, Chief scampers ahead, chases his tail in circles, and finds other means to burn off his inexhaustible supply of puppy energy.

Chris may be happy to just walk and be, but Fae isn't, all of this walking is tiring especially with a stomach nearing it's bursting point from so many roast beef n' cheddars "Piggyback ride!" she suddenly calls out, it's not a request, it's a demand, she hops up onto his back with a saucy laugh.

"I can't walk anymore, I had one to many curly-cues and I've become a potato now." that's not scientifically accurate, no matter what they say you are not truly what you eat. "What do you say we head back home and be coach potatoes...together." the whispered words hit Chris' ear with a tinge of sultry inflection.

One doesn't have to read too far between the lines to put together that Fae's love language is fast food and the aphrodisiac that is Arby's has her planting a cornucopia of pecks along the back and side of Chris' neck while she hangs off of him.

They don't call it a fireman's carry for nothing, although that isn't at all what is happening in this case. Adding a passenger and a special invitation delivered to his ear is all the incentive the man needs to about-face their leisurely walk.

Chief lacks the words to express his confusion about what is going on, but he expresses his uncertainty with a few additional barks.

"Well," Chris replies, holding his girl's legs around his chest as he lumbers back toward the pickup, "We do have quite the backlog of things to watch." Would there be watching involved? Can potatoes watch? Apparently, they could kiss.