"She's used to performing twice a day, five or sometimes six days a week in front of large crowds full of noisy, squealing children." Robb knew very little about the promotional, wheeler-dealer, anything to get them through the front gate and gladly emptying their pockets sort of stuff, preferring instead to be the one out front making all the magic happen. His true calling and one he loved. As far as Robb was concerned, the service he would be offering was an opportunity to get Weir out of the backyard and back on the road. Not quite the days of long caravan rides across Eastern Europe in a traveling show, but more healthy exercise and interaction for Weir, certainly, and an opportunity to get the word out.
And if they decided to slap Weir's gorgeous face on a t-shirt to make a little money to go toward zoo programs and projects and draw in more curious visitors, why not?
During the pause for Abby to catch her breath, Robb remembered his coffee, absently lifting it to his lips and sipping. Oh, she'd thought of absolutely everything, and it made Robb feel more than a bit chuffed. Of all the people in the big, wide world to have in his (and Weir's) corner, Abigail Maitland was definitely the best choice.
Tempest in a teapot, she is.
"Annual fundraisers, you mean? Sure! Why not? Weir likes being around people and is a born showoff when given the chance." Traits she'd picked up from being raised by Robb, perhaps? He couldn't be sure, but what he did know was that when they worked together - even as a cub - Weir had wanted to do all the tricks and follow commands and please Robb any way she could, no coaxing necessary.
"I was looking at your website the other day... You should put a video clip of her on there..."