The lobby.
As it turned out, caring for a dog was a lot more work than anyone seemed to care to mention in the post. Not that he really minded--Balto seemed to enjoy being quite the little adorable furry hellion, chewing up a chair leg, a towel, and peppering his face with puppy licks (turns out it really enjoyed the chicken). It was, dare he say it, nice. Dogs weren't like people where he had so much trouble trying to interpret what they really wanted from him. Animals never had that problem. All were very straightforward and it gave him a sense of...something. Belonging, perhaps.
Tying him up as he didn't trust the pup to be left to its own devices, Robert took the opportunity to run to a nearby pet store and get some provisions: kibbles and bits, a dog bed, a few toys. Somehow he was also given jerky treats and a brochure for puppy training classes as well. Oh well. He didn't have trouble carrying everything inside and entered the lobby when a strange thing happened. Nothing physical, but a feeling that something was very off, enough to make him stop and hold his bag tightly, unsure why he felt different. Paranoid, even.