DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
Meryl's foot tapped out a rapid cadence. "How much longer is this going to take?" she seethed.
"I'm sure it won't be much longer," Vash told her. "It's not like we have to pay the vet by the hour, and I'm sure he's well aware of that. He's got no reason to stretch this out."
"They could at least give us some updates. I want some news!"
Vash tilted her head up so he could look in her eyes. "Worrying won't make any difference, Meryl. We can hope, we can pray, but worrying is useless, and so is getting frustrated."
She scowled and crossed her arms. But when he reached over the armrest and held her, she didn't pull away.
"But you've got to!"
"I told you, Meryl, he's not mine!"
She stamped her foot, finger in his face. "He needs to be walked! And when I try to walk him, I may as well be a rag doll."
"You brought him home, he's yours. It's your job to feed him, clean him, groom him – and walk him."
"Look, Vash, let's be reasonable about this. Why don't we both take him?"
"Because it's not my job, would be my guess."
"But think about it," Meryl pleaded. "We could get fresh air, get some exercise, spend some time together...Rocky would just be along for the walk."
"You do make it sound nice." Rubbed his jaw in thought. "All right. I guess I can compromise on this one thing."
"Thank you!" Meryl gratefully ran to get the leash. Vash knew she had gotten it when he felt Rocky bounding about, causing a small earthquake.
They ambled around for an hour, Meryl on one side of Vash, Rocky on the other. It was enjoyable, except for one thing.
"Will you quit rubbing your head against my leg?"
"He wants some affection, Vash," Meryl chided. "Give his head a scratch."
Eyes rolling, Vash switched the leash to his other hand and leaned down, scratching Rocky's head. The dog grrr'ed in pleasure.