2007-03-24: Goblin and Troll


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Summary: Richard brings Goblin and Troll, the two dogs he stole from Company agents, to Lachlan to be trained. Lachlan decides to keep them for a week on account of them being miniature pinschers.

Date It Happened: March 24, 2007

Goblin and Troll

Lachlan's Apartment, Brooklyn

Early afternoon in Brooklyn finds Lachlan Deatley at home in his apartment. Moping. He does it very well. Having just woken up after receiving a phone call or two (apparently dog owners are morning people sometimes, go figure), he's putting together a bit of breakfast. Bonnie has already had her breakfast and is contentedly dozing near the couch in the living room. The apartment itself is fairly clean if not cluttered with still-unpacked boxes and the like. Lachlan had the foresight to put on some actual clothes in anticipation of appointments made: he's wearing a black tanktop and a pair of ragged blue jeans.

An apartment number's checked on the piece of paper that Richard'd brought with him, after talking to the other man briefly on the phone; confirmed as the one that's upon the door, he tucks the paper away into a pocket before reaching out to rap his knuckles against the door. That done, he reaches down to wrap his fingers about the handle of one of the two dog-carriers he's brought with him - one in each hand, now, occupied by particularly ill-tempered min-pins. As one of them yips angrily at him, he sighs, "Shut up, Goblin."

When there's a knock at the door, Bonnie rises to her feet with a reflexive little 'wrrrff!', but she's quickly silenced by a grumbled word and signal from her master. Lachlan peers around the doorway of the kitchen as though pondering whether or not he should actually answer the door, then decides that he likes having a legitimate income and puts down his bowl to do such. It takes him a few moments to look through the peephole and then undo the chain and deadbolt to open the door. He stares at Richard with a half-scowl — really, he doesn't look very personable at the moment. His gaze immediately goes to the carriers and his expression softens a bit as he starts sending calming signals to the two miniature pinschers. "Yer … tha' guy." Funny, the Scot's already forgotten his name.

"You're the dog trainer?" A dubious lift of Richard's brow as he looks over the other man, head canting a touch to one side as he regards him and his appearance as if having second thoughts about the entire business. After a moment, though, he tips his chin towards him, noting, "Richard. And yeah, this's Goblin'n Troll." They've stopped yapping irritably, funny that.

Goblin and Troll. Lachlan can't help but smirk at the names. Awww, they're little yappy versions of his favorite breed! He steps to the side and pulls the door open a bit wider to allow Richard room to enter the apartment. "Bring 'em in. 'M Lach." Yeah, Richard probably knew that already. "Min-pins, huh? Wha's the pro'lem?"

"Well, aside from the fact that they shit in my shoes, piss on my bed, eat everything that I put anywhere…" A drawl from Richard, who moves to step along into the apartment, glancing about as he walks within, "…at least they haven't bitten me. They're not bad-tempered, they just can't behave worth piss."

"… tha's b'cause yer no' teachin' 'em righ'," Lachlan grunts with a growing frown. Blaming the dogs never goes well with him — but at least he's not tossing Richard out like he did his /last/ client! That's a good sign. "Dogs'll b'have just bloody fine if they're taugh' righ'." When Richard enters the apartment, Bonnie's long tail starts to wag enthusiastically and she takes a few steps forward as though to investigate, but an absently muttered, "Stay" from Lachlan causes her to halt. She's not very old, but she's a large puppy and obviously already well-trained. "Ye plannin' ta leave 'em with me fer a bit?"

"Hey, if I had any clue how to train dogs, wouldn't be here, would I?" A rueful note to Richard's voice as he sets the two carriers down, one hand lifting to rub against his shoulder as he rotates it briefly, allowing, "Well, if you think that'd be best— like I said, not really sure how to teach 'em. Never owned a dog before I got saddled with these two pups."

It's questionable if leaving the dogs with Lachlan is /really/ necessary, but … they're miniature pinschers, and while Bonnie is good company, the Scotsman misses pinschers. Even miniature ones are better than none at all — their signatures may be different, but they're similar enough. He nods a little. "Yeah, mebbe ye'd better leave 'em here fer a bit. A week." A week sounds good. "Meanwhile, ye should go home an' wash the hell outta yer sheets an' shoes." The dogs aren't altered, so they'll be more inclined to mark spots they had marked before if they can still smell them.

"I'm planning on washing pretty much everything," admits Richard, rubbing a hand against the nape of his neck as he glances over in the direction of the other dog briefly, before looking back to Lachlan with a wry smile, "Any other advice 'sides that?"

Bonnie continues to sit quietly near the couch, though the excited wagging of her tail would indicate that she /really really really/ wants to go over /there/ and see what is in the crates. She stares back at Richard with big brown puppy eyes beneath a mop of wiry blonde hair. Definitely some sort of Irish wolfhound mix.

"Nah, tha's 'bout it," Lachlan responds with a shrug. "'ll call ye if there're any questions." There hardly ever are, but it's a courtesy thing.

"That easy?" A bemused look from Richard, who then shrugs; hey, it's not like he has any idea about dog training, himself! "A'ight," he allows then, before adding, "Beautiful dog you've got over there."

"Tha' easy." It doesn't usually take Lachlan long to straighten out a dog when he's got continuous contact. He casts a glance over at Bonnie, whose tail goes faster when she gets the idea that she's being talked about. "Yeah, tha's Bonnie. Got 'er a few days ago. She's a good pup, aren' ye, Bonnie?" He clicks his tongue and the pup scrambles over to his side to receive a fond scratch behind the ears.

"Well trained," admits Richard, head canting a bit as he regards the puppy with a slight grin, "Anyway, I s'pose I should leave you be to…" He looks around briefly, then back to Lachlan, "…uh, whatever it is you do here."

Currently, it's moping. Soon, it will be moping while playing with dogs. Lachlan's life is so full. He smirks just a twinge and gives another nod. "Yeah, I'll see ye 'round. Let ye know how things're goin' with the dogs an' all tha'." He heads back over toward the door to open it for Richard. "Talk 'bout payment after they're trained."

"A'ight. You have my number, right?" Well, technically it's Identity's number. But he took her phone, and she hasn't stopped paying the bill yet, so it's his now. Possession, nine-tenths, all that. Richard moves to step along over to the door, "I'll talk to you then, then."

Once again, Lachlan nods. Richard's number is still in his CallerID, so he's got it. With a small wave, he closes the door behind the other man, draws the chain and deadbolt, then turns to the carriers in the middle of the living room floor — which are being thoroughly investigated by Bonnie. The dogs within are barking again but soon quiet after a few telepathic reassurances. The Scotsman goes to sit cross-legged on the floor between the carriers and opens the doors to gather the dogs inside into his lap. His day just got totally better.

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