With a quirk of a smile and a slight lift of one shoulder, Robb took the refusal well enough. He'd expected as much, though hearing of a mauling made him frown into his cuppa. Well before his arrival to the states, he reckoned, the news was nonetheless troublesome. He knew exactly how those sort of stories always ended - and never to the animal's advantage. Hardly a day passed when you didn't read about a pit bull attack in the papers; usually stupidity or blatant disregard on the owner's part to keep their pet in check. And while a fighting terrier had absolutely nothing on a three hundred pound wild beast, the solution was often exactly the same: a bullet to the head.
"Can't blame a fellow for trying," he said, inwardly shuddering at the thought of Weir getting put down by some overzealous police office just trying to 'maintain the peace.'
Listening to Abby's alternate proposal, though, just made all sorts of sense the more he thought about it. She knew the way of things far better than he ever could, and would gladly follow her lead from now on.
"That would work, I think." Wanting to go outside the cage in the first place had been brought on after seeing the currently disused enclosure. Designed for a completely different sort of animal - one that liked climbing trees and spent time on two legs as opposed to all four - Robb hadn't liked all the organic rocky terrain and clutter.
Far too much to get in the way.
"Clear it out a bit. Build a big platform. Levels, you know? So she can sit up high. Oh! And a heavy-duty hammock. I have one of those for her at my place and she loves it..."
On a roll now and getting excited at the prospect of this actually happening, Robb was nodding and grinning ear to ear. "Definitely a Q and A at the end," he agreed. "Maybe hand out photocopied sheets with fun facts printed on one side and a simple line drawing of an Amur on the other for the wee ones to take home and color."