"Don't worry Toby, I'll make sure you'll be ok" John chatted to the dog as he walked. He was perfectly aware how crazy he looked, but he found it easier to think aloud to the dog. He suddenly realised that was what Sherlock did with him.
For the sake of pride, he ignored it.
After about ten minutes of walking John found a pet shop. He hesitated outside with Toby, before seeing a man walk out with a small terrier under his arm. John shrugged and walked in; hoping Toby was ok with other dogs. He needn't worried about that though. Toby was very good. No, his main problem was the dog isle. There were at least fifty types of food. Dozens of bed types. Did he need toys? Treats? He looked down at Toby, who stared back up with hazel eyes "Care to help me out?" He asked the dog "Sure" replied a voice. John frowned and looked up. A young woman with long blonde hair and a tall, silky furred red setter at her side was looking at him, amusement in her eyes "I think I might be more help than him" She added, reaching out to stroke Toby "First time dog owner?" She asked. He nodded "Yeah, you could say that".
"Didn't plan to get one?"
"Definitely not. Don't think I'm quite cut out for the canine life" he laughed. She smiled
"Don't say that, everybody is clueless at first. I've had dogs since I was a kid. I'm actually here helping my friend, she got her's last week" She pointed to a woman stood in front of toys holding a little fluffy Chihuahua who was attempting to eat her hair as she laughed "Storm. Stormy, stop" she tried a serious tone, but just ending up laughing. The blonde woman shrugged "Eh, she's fine for now. What are you struggling with?"
"Uh...Everything?"
A good half an hour later John paid for a bag of dry dog food, a large padded blanket, various assorted toys, doggy bags and some treats . He bid farewell and thanks to the women and their dogs. Toby seemed disappointed to leave his new friends, but recovered the second he was shown the ball and rope toy. John laughed at the dog's joy at something so simple, finding himself feeling oddly cheerful, even if he hadn't planned on the impromptu pet.
"No" Mrs Hudson frowned, staring down at Toby "No pets Sherlock, that's the agreement"
"He's not mine" Sherlock replied "Therefore he doesn't count under pet, he counts under guest"
"He's a dog, therefore he's a pet. He's huge boys, and he smells, and he's in my house..." She trailed off. John frowned "Sorry, bag of thumbs in the fridge is ok, but dog for four short weeks is not?" he argued. She threw her hands in the air "Sorry boys, I'm not negotiating this one. The dog-"
"Toby" Sherlock and John corrected.
"Toby goes, or all of you go" She finished, folding her arms. Even Sherlock, Mr. Punch line, had no clue what to say. Toby however, had the situation sorted. He stood from where he had been sat beside John, wandered over to Mrs Hudson. He sat in front of her with a slight whimper, and held up a paw, looking both adorable and completely pathetic. Her face softened a little "Well. I suppose he's rather cute..." She sighed "Clean him up, no leaving him in alone in the flat, and if I hear a single peep from him tonight he's gone, deal?"
"Deal" Sherlock agreed.