Work Text:
Evan Buckley should not find it hilarious that his dog was glaring at him because she was wearing a cone.
He really shouldn’t, but he was only human. She looked both sad and furious. Which he could understand, because it had to be disconcerting to have something obscuring your vision for long hours of the day. (Oh wait, that was every time he put on his gear and went into a fire.)
Audie had been required to get some shots and tests done at her yearly checkup, but she kept trying to gnaw on the leg that the vaccines were administered in. So, it was decided that she would need to wear the soft cone for the next day or so, just to keep her from unintentionally injuring herself. It was either that or a muzzle, and there was no reason that Buck could think of that they needed to resort to that dramatic of measures.
From the moment the cone was velcroed around her head until now, sitting in the living room of the loft, Audie made her displease silently known. Her glares had gotten deeper by the minute, reminding Buck of the looks she gave him when he was last on crutches. But the effect was lost thanks to the cone, which was now featured in at least ten pics on his phone.
Now back in the safety of the loft, Buck had figured that her silent protest would end. But it didn’t. She just curled up on her bed near the window with her back to him and lay in misery.
It’s only for a day, Buckley, he reminded himself yet again, this time while cooking dinner. Normally she’d be either right on the edge of the kitchen, silently begging for scraps or completely underfoot if it was something that she recognized and truly loved. If the Diazes were involved, the latter was the go to, usually egged on by Christopher. Not tonight though. She even ignored the sound of him prepping her dinner.
It’s only a day, he thought, calling to her by the door to take her on her evening jog. Again, ignored entirely.
It’s only- oh, forgot it. He set down his Kindle and strode over to Audie, still doing her best to pretend her owner didn’t exist. He could feel her misery from the couch and he just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Audie-girl, let me take that off. You don’t need it anymore,” he whispered, carefully tugging on the velcro until it was released and the cone slid from Audie’s silky fur. He started petting her, keeping one hand moving through her fur while the other eased her head off the soft cone. As soon as she was completely free, he threw it behind him somewhere, not even paying attention to where it ended up landing.
The moment the cone was removed, Audie shoved away from Buck, shook out her fur with an almost aggressive shake, let out a passionate woof and practically tackled her owner, covering his face with licks. Between swipes, she let out a series of quiet barks, telling Buck her exact displeasure with the situation from the day.
Buck didn’t stop his hand from combing through her fur, whispered apologies and explanations leaving his mouth. He stayed curled up with his dog, holding her close and feeling like the worst owner in the world.
Logically, he wasn’t. Logically, he was only doing what he could to make sure that Audie didn’t hurt herself by her gnawing on her arm as her skin itched. But her reaction - her silence throughout the evening - was worse than most anything he’d gone through. Her disappointment in him cut him deep.
The next thing either of them knew, Aislinn (his ever-reliable dog walker) was shaking his shoulder and quietly calling his name. He’d spent the entire night curled up on Audie’s dog bed, assuring her that she was loved. Audie’s head was resting in his lap, eyes still stubbornly closed, making it very clear that she wasn’t about to wake up anytime soon.
Once her warm pillow was replaced with one from the couch, Aislinn gave her boss a hand up and they retreated to the kitchen to go over the schedule for the day, giving Audie some well deserved extra sleep.
It was the least he could do.