All dogs are service dogs, most of them are just freelancing.
Mouse's POV. Set between Small Favor and Turn Coat.
"Hell's bells," a voice creaked, echoing in the bathroom. I heard him sit up and swear again, and then the splashy-retchy-flushy sound of somebody throwing up in the toilet.
The Cat, sitting on the counter by the kitchen sink, twitched his stumpy tail impatiently.
"Hold on," I told him as I pawed the pantry door. If you hit the handle just right, sometimes it opens. "I'm working on it."
The door clicked and swung open. It was a closet full of food, lots of yummy things stashed all in one place. I resisted the call of the Treats, especially the cheese puffs, and I pushed the cardboard box of cat food across the floor. I tipped some into The Cat's bowl.
... And onto the floor around the bowl. Probably a little too much. This was really best done by someone with thumbs. Sometimes the tiny faeries who clean the apartment refill the bowls — they have thumbs, I think. They are usually nice to me, but don't much care for Mister because he likes to chase them. They hadn't been by in a few days and the apartment was kind of messy; all the candles were out and there were soda cans and coffee cups all over, and the phone was laying in the floor from when I had tried to answer it.
Turns out you need thumbs for that, too.
Mister jumped down from the counter and hissed at me to get out of the way. I'm sure he was grateful, that's just how cats are. I left him to eat in peace and went to check on our human.
My Friend was still on the bathroom floor, where I had found him the night before. I had pulled the blanket from my bed into the bathroom because the tile was very cold, and that's where we slept, all night. He was sitting up now, leaning back against the wall between the toilet and the shower. The room was dark, but I could see just fine. He was even more pale than usual, with dark circles beneath his eyes and a prickly face. He smelled like pain and a little like fear, like the kind of tired that a nap won't fix.
... And kind of like throw up, which was to be expected. He had been feeling bad for three days, stumbling from the bedroom to the kitchen and back with his head in his hands, grumbling as he took medicine that didn't seem to be working.
"I'm sorry, boy," he apologized. "I know you want to go for a walk."
"It's alright, we can go later. Get up," I said, though he couldn't understand me. I nosed at his hand. "Come on. Get up."
"Okay, okay." He grabbed my collar and I took a few steps backwards, hauling him to his feet. He leaned against me as he stumbled into the living room, and collapsed onto the sofa. "Mister, this would be a prime opportunity to try to smother me in my sleep."
"He doesn't really mean that," I warned The Cat.
"I do, too," My Friend mumbled. "Take the shot, buddy."
"Do you always have to be so dramatic?" I sighed, before I realized he had actually understood for once.
"Don't judge me, I've seen how you act at the vet's office," he said grumpily, and then frowned at me and pulled a pillow over his head. "Oh, great. Auditory hallucinations. That's new."
Most Humans are kind of fragile, but not mine.
He's tough, like one of the monks from my home temple. Brave and smart, mostly, but also kind of silly, and too stubborn to ask for help.
I couldn't really call for help, either. I could bark, and maybe the nice old lady upstairs would hear me. Or if I could get downstairs, I could ask the Basement Skull spirit for help, but that wouldn't work, either. The whole no thumbs thing was really holding me back.
So I settled down beside the sofa to Think Good Thoughts until the next thing happened. A hand landed on my head, half-heartedly scratching around my ears.
We didn't have to wait very long. Only half an hour had passed when I heard familiar tires on the driveway, boots coming down the stairs, and a woman's voice, talking on a cell phone.
"No, Harry wasn't at his office and he's not answering his phone, so I stopped by to check — his car is here. I'll let you know. Yeah, bye."
Keys jingled in the lock and My Friend sighed in relief.
"Oh, thank god." The hand on my head ruffled my ears again. "I mean, thank dog."
Next: Potions