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“And I was told to be wary of you.”
There’s laughter in your voice as you pick up the worn tennis ball, ignoring the warm drool that coats it and the slight tearing of the felt along one of the seams. You give it a few lazy tosses into the air, amused at how focused the canine is on the object, before giving some mercy to the good boy by throwing the ball towards the other side of the park.
Iggy’s off like a rocket, stubby legs carrying him as fast as they can to retrieve the tennis ball. It isn’t a long ways out; you didn’t use any of your stand’s strength for it, or really a whole lot of your own, so it only made it about a hundred feet after it stopped rolling.
A part of you wonders if The Fool would like playing fetch just as much.
(The thought of that makes you giggle, and you make a mental note to manifest your stand next time to engage with both Iggy and The Fool.)
You watch as the dog catches up to the ball after a couple moments, stubby tail wagging all the while. Iggy crouches down near it before letting out a few barks, jumping up from his playful position to bat at the tennis ball with his front paws. He does it a few more times, circling it, before deciding that it’s time to bring it back to you.
Neon yellow ball stuffed into his mouth, the small dog rushes towards you yet again with his toy, stopping just short of your figure. Snickering, you duck down to take the ball from him, letting yourself play tug-of-war with him as he shakes his head back and forth, attempting to wrestle your hand off of his ball.
Finally freeing it from the dog’s mouth, Iggy pants at you, big mouth looking like a smile as his tail wags even faster when your attention is fully focused onto it.
“Good boy, Iggy.” The praise is accompanied by a scratch behind the ear. “You really showed this tennis ball who’s boss.”
He barks in response, trying to jump up onto your lap to lick at your face.
“Okay, okay, okay! Relaaax.” Laughing, you put the tennis ball into your jacket pocket, picking up the dog under one arm as you stand.
Still attempting to assault your face with kisses - and his dog breath and drool - you maneuver Iggy to better hold him as you start your walk towards the park’s exit to head back to the hotel you and the others are staying at, trying and failing to keep the dog’s kisses to an absolute minimum.
You’re not really sure how you got onto Iggy’s good side, or why he decided you were going to be his favorite human, but you aren’t complaining in the slightest. It was weirdly validating to have the gremlin choose you out of the others you were traveling with, even if you thought Avdol would be a more responsible choice.
It’s a little taxing at times, sure, but… It’s Iggy. It would be strange if the stray - self made, as the dog was a pure bred that once lived a rich lifestyle - was an angel twenty-four/seven even for you. Besides, you love the little guy, hellion or not to others.
He’s a good boy.
The trek back to the hotel is filled with one-sided conversation, Iggy giving huffs and barks every so often if he liked what was being said. He particularly liked the idea of lunch, and you couldn’t blame him, which was one reason your pace was on the quicker side.
Since the park wasn’t too far from where the hotel was, you made it back in under fifteen minutes, the dog in your arms content after the workout you gave him at the park as well as the promises of lunch.
While you and your companion want nothing more than to get back to the room and eat, maybe even take a short nap, you decide against it and make a quick stop by Joseph’s room; there was a vague rotation schedule for who got their own room, everyone understanding that sometimes you just want alone time, and this time Mr. Joestar was the lucky one. Though, really, you have Iggy as your roommate. That basically means you have a room to yourself.
(The others can’t sleep in the same room with you if Iggy is around - which is always. The dog is very peculiar about who can and can’t be near you, and so far the only ones who made it through the night were Avdol and Jotaro, and both times Iggy seemed like he was a second away from snapping the entire time.
The one night where rooms were limited, Polnareff never even got to finish his comment about bed sharing before Iggy was at his throat.)
Checking in with the older man, you relay your experience at the park - nothing out of the ordinary, no one suspicious from what you remember - before telling him your plans for the rest of the afternoon. He listens closely, nodding along, and starts to recount his own morning as well as what the others are off doing. You must be talking for too long, as Iggy lets out a loud yawn and wiggles out of your arms, wandering off towards your room no doubt.
“Ya know, it’s good he’s taken a liking to someone. I can only imagine how bad he’d be otherwise.” Joseph crosses his arms over his chest, huffing as he watches the dog walk off.
“I doubt he’d be that big of an issue.” You shrug. “But, who knows?”
“He’d be a menace! Look at how he is with everyone else!”
“Yeeeaaah.” There’s no disagreeing there; the Boston Terrier has quite the attitude to the rest of the crusaders, with you being the odd one out for some reason. “Honestly, I’m surprised he warmed up to me at all. I’m not really a dog person.”
“Well, whatever the reason, we’re all thankful for it.” Mr. Joestar flashes you a grin.
You talk with the older man for a few more minutes, getting a gist for what the plans for the rest of the day and tomorrow would look like. He once again tells you what the others are doing in case anything comes up, reminding you of their room numbers, before you both say your goodbyes and you wander off towards the elevator.
Exiting the lift, you see Iggy down the hall, impatient as he paces back and forth and paws at the door to be let in. At the sound of the doors closing, he perks up and snaps his attention in your direction. Seeing you make your way towards him, the dog lets out a bark, rushing towards you with a wagging tail.
You can’t help but laugh, scooping him up in one arm without breaking stride as you continue on towards your room. It really was crazy to think about how different he was with you than with literally anyone else.
Perhaps you’ve been blessed?
Letting yourself into your room with your keycard, you toss the card onto the dresser as you pass it, trying not to drop Iggy as he wiggles wildly in your arm to put him down now that he’s in the room.
Getting close to the bed, you move to get the dog in both hands, holding him up - reminiscent of the scene in Lion King where Simba is held - and let him drop onto the bed, the large and fluffy comforter nearly swallowing him up as he wrestles to right himself.
Kicking off your shoes and nudging them under the table, you shrug off your jacket and drape it over the back of the chair. “It’s lunch time!”
There’s a bark in response, with papers sounding like they’re being shuffled and moved around behind you as you put away your things to get comfortable.
Turning around, you just barely miss seeing The Fool being called back, Iggy now holding the room service menu in his mouth as he wags his tail at you.
Giving him a smile, you flop onto the bed next to him and take the piece of laminated paper from his mouth, reading over the choices as the dog moves to settle on the pillow next to your head.
As you start reading off the choices, you reach over to gently pet the dog’s head, comfortable and happy.