"Fuckin' mutt." Jason kicks you, hard, you growl before backing away, doing little stomps of protest as he pours you some kibble. A sigh escapes his lips. "You need a bath." He mutters, setting your food bowl down as you immediately begin eating.

He's shocked you haven't gotten shot yet. With him bringing you on every outing as Arkham Knight, you would have think someone's would have shot his dog. No, not yet, at least. Worst injury you received would have to be being separated from him for too long. Separation anxiety in a dog? He scoffs.

Your head shoots up after you finish your kibble, bouncing over to him as you jump up, your paws hitting his chest as he grunts. "Get down. Off."