The things I do for her…
In all the years of their association (as he habitually called their marriage), House had not known that Allison was a dog person. He never gave her 'ohs' and 'ahs' at the pet shop puppies a thought. He had assumed that she gave that response to every living creature she came across.
But now he knew, and that led him to his current situation. He was limping down the dank corridors of a dog pound, searching for her birthday present. Behind the chain link cages were dozens of mangy dogs, all whining at his presence. Just like Cuddy.
There were terriers that nipped at their kennel mates, energetic collies being driven out of their minds, old dogs curling up in the back corner. The din of persistent barking flooded House's ears, making them throb. He wanted out of there, yet he had to leave with a dog by his side.
In all honesty, he didn't want one. Steve and Allison were company enough without adding to the family. How could he keep up with one, anyway? It would need walking, exercise and the like, and hell would have to freeze over before he allowed the walking carpet to snuggle between him and his wife in bed. But Allison had so subtlety hinted at her desire for a dog, and House couldn't refuse. Well, he could, but the couch was not at all comfortable.
Something golden caught House's eye. He turned, and saw a pitiful heap of orange fur lying in one of the nearby cages. He walked up to it, peering at it with ice-blue eyes. Seemed like a decent, quiet dog… but wouldn't Allison want something a little more perky?
The dog's ears lifted slightly, and he returned the stare. House was attacked by soft brown eyes that held an ocean of warmth in their depths. That appearance of sincere friendliness reminded him of his wife. That's it; this is Ally's dog.