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Carl knew he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on her, stumbling around in the snow with a pitiful expression on her face. "Dai Stiho, little one," he said, kneeling down.
She eyed him warily, backing up – but it was clear from her feet, still too big for her body, that she wasn't much older than a puppy. "Go away."
"I want to help you. Are you hungry? I have food." Carl cursed himself silently. Once you feed them, they never go away. His mother had told him how many times?
The little dog's ears perked up at that. "Food?"
"Inside. Come on, let me take you." Carl knelt down and picked her up, brushing off the snow. She looked like a collie of some kind, border collie maybe. "Where's your mother?"
"Dunno," she said, and that clinched it. This dog was coming home with him, and nobody was going to stop him.
Nobody, apparently, except his partner, whose eyebrows went up into his hairline as soon as he walked in the door. "What is that?" Tom asked, as Carl set the dog down on the floor and hung up his coat.
"She's a puppy, Tom. She was lost."
"And hungry," the puppy said, sniffing Tom's shoes warily.
"Our apartment doesn't allow dogs," Tom said, and he looked like he was trying to steel himself against the amazing cuteness of the dog.
Carl just looked at him for a minute. "Our apartment doesn't allow dogs?"
"It doesn't," Tom said, resolutely refusing to look at the puppy.
"Tom, we're wizards. We can hide a dog."
Tom pressed his lips together, scowling a little. "It'll take a lot of energy to maintain a sidle indefinitely-"
"So only slap it on when the landlord comes around. Come on, Tom, she's cold, and hungry." He picked the puppy up again, and muttered, "look lost and soulful."
Apparently the puppy did her best, because Tom's scowl softened. "We can't afford a dog," he protested.
"The Oath says to preserve life, whenever possible," Carl said, scratching the puppy's ears.
"That's playing dirty," Tom said. Then he watched the puppy wag her tail for a moment, and sighed. "She does look lonely."
"And hungry," the puppy added again. "Food now?"
"All right," Carl said. "Tom, get some ham out of the fridge, please?" And now Carl added his own puppy eyes to hers, and Tom sighed.
The puppy devoured the ham in short order, belched unattractively, and jumped up onto the couch to sleep. Tom started forward like he was going to push her off, but Carl caught his arm. "She's tired," he said.
"You're going to spoil that dog," Tom said. "I can already tell. She'll be rotten by the time she's been here two months."
"Oh, so we're keeping her?" Carl said archly, slipping his arm around Tom's waist.
Tom was silent for a moment. "She'll need a name."
Carl grinned. "I like Annie. Like the orphan."
"That's a dismal way of looking at it," Tom said dryly, and deflected the elbow Carl threw at him with the ease of long practice. "All right. Annie."