Some people complained that their husband was basically a child in a grown man's body. Genevieve got a puppy and a child in a grown man's body. The thought of it made her snicker. Lucky her. "I've got a pet and a husband all in one!" she teased out loud for his benefit. Not that she really minded; it was all the perks of a pet with few to none of the responsibilities. "I don't mind grooming you, but I won't have to take you on walks, will I? Do you go to the hospital or the vet when you're not feeling well? Should I stock up on dog kibble?" No, she really couldn't help herself. Gen was grinning ear to ear.
She wasn't sure why he'd decided to stare at her. In her own unintentionally dog-like behavior, Gen cocked her head to the side curiously. "What is it, boy? Speak!" And when he leaned forward in his canine semi-hug, Genevieve smiled and wrapped her arms around his fuzzy body. "You're pretty cute as a wolf, Charles," she admitted more seriously. "I'll bet you make a terrific pillow like this."
Her hands lazily rubbed against his fur in random places, then smoothed the fur back down after she'd passed over an area. "It's too bad you can't talk when you're in this form, though. That'd be kind of cool, a talking wolf. Just like in Narnia or Jungle Book." She pulled back to look at him, scratching behind his ears at the same time. "I'd offer to go play frisbee with you, but I don't own one, and let's be honest, we both know I'm too lazy. Okay, okay, that's my last dog joke. I think. For all I know, those offend you since 'you're a wolf, not a dog, god,' and all that. Like those anal retentive people who get offended when you call a ship a boat."
She might have been talking a bit much, but she felt odd carrying the conversation by herself with someone who couldn't speak, so that translated into filling in the silent spaces herself. It was a habit she sometimes had when she was in the morgue, too, and it was just herself and the dead bodies. They made for horrid conversationalists.