"There is, he's not even that old yet. Albus just subscribes to the thought that less is more, which is good because my apartment is not that big and a dog his size should really have a yard," Nate said, worried he was rambling too much. He did have that tendency, but he was also a bit nervous (and nervy from not sleeping and being over-caffeinated) that he felt like he was doing all the talking.
"Which is why we come to the park," he smiled at Albus who came over with a large stick in his mouth, dropping it sloppily on Nate's foot. Neither man nor dog made a move -- Nate knew well enough that fetch was not a concept Albus understood. He just brought the sticks and dumped them at Nate's feet, then moved on. Or, as was the case this time, stopped moving all together. Nate shook his head and laughed as Albus just walked over to a patch of grass and plopped down, stretching out in a spot of sunshine and promptly dozing off. "Yup... that's my dog," he laughed, rolling his eyes a bit.