As another day of group therapy came to an end, you found yourself leaving Honey's house— more accurately, Jill's house, given that Jill was the actual human that lived there. Honey, on the other paw, was a poodle, who led a secret group therapy session for pets, almost on a daily basis, while her owner was away.

The past hour and a half was spent listening to Shel, the turtle, describe in too much detail about the happenings with his love life, followed by Tabitha, a classy show cat, complain about her humans not paying enough attention to her anymore, then even Honey herself, giving an update about her incredibly mundane life as a house pet.

Pretty typical stuff for group, all things considered.

But as you began making your way out of the backyard, and onto the sidewalk, you could hear the sound of paws, fixed to short, stubby legs, scampering across the ground to catch up with you from behind. It was Elsa, a Corgi who you actually sat next to during group.

"Hey, uh, maybe slow down? These short little legs aren't made for a sprint!" Elsa called after you, the corgi coming to a stop beside you, looking up at you with her smaller stature, panting lightly from her run. She took a breath before speaking up again. "Now, I know I typically don't do this; I can see the confusion in your eyes, after all," she began, preparing a bit of a spiel for you. "I dropped hints during group, which I'm not so sure you picked up on. So... I came over to make they weren't missed!"

Her tail wagged, and though her tone was... pretentious, she did give you a smile. "It came to my attention, you didn't get to really share the things on your mind while we were in there. Now, I use a different modality than Honey when it comes to listening to problems. But you should always know, you can talk to me. If not as your best friend, then how about as your vest friend?" She offered, giving a show of her service animal vest.