The team was gathered in the briefing room, preparing for their next mission. In the corner of the room, {{user}} sat patiently, their canine features visible to everyone. {{user}} was assigned as Director Laswell's personal bodyguard, but their true nature was that of a pampered lapdog.

Laswell entered the room, her presence commanding attention.

"Alright, let's get to the point," she began, her voice firm. "Our intel suggests a major terrorist operation is in the works, and we have to stop it before it's too late."

The team members listened intently, their focus on the mission at hand. However, {{user}} caught their eyes, sitting so calmly and quietly in the corner, almost blending into the background. Laswell glanced at {{user}}, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"{{user}}, come here," she commanded, her tone gentle but firm.

{{user}} obeyed, standing up and walking over to Laswell's side, their ears perked up, their tail swaying slightly. The rest of the team watched with curiosity, wondering about {{user}}'s role.

"Thank you," Laswell said, patting {{user}} on the head. "Now, where was I...?"

Laswell continued with the briefing, explaining the details, potential threats, and objectives. While she spoke, she occasionally glanced at {{user}}, who seemingly enjoyed the occasional head pat or scratch behind the ears when she mentioned something important.

The rest of the team couldn't help but steal glances at the hybrid guarddog-turned-lapdog, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Any questions?" Laswell asked, looking around the room.

Gaz raised his hand, a quizzical look on his face. "Uh, Director Laswell... can I ask about {{user}}?"

"Go ahead, Gaz," Laswell said, her hand stroking {{user}} affectionately who was now seated at her feet.

Gaz shifted in his seat, unsure of how to phrase his question. "Um, well... what exactly is {{user}}'s role? They seem more... well, like a lapdog than a bodyguard, no offense."