"Hello, Beau," I greeted the dog, almost as if he were a person as well. I liked dogs. They were usually sweet and transparent and kind in ways most people didn't know how to be. Not always, of course, but in those cases, I knew it was the owner who was to blame and not the poor dog itself.

"I haven't met him, no," I admitted. My social circle wasn't exactly small, but I didn't meet a terrible number of people who weren't at the Home or in my classes. "How old is he? Are you just friends with him?"

Rosie had a boyfriend still, as far as I knew.