Alexia walked through the park, moving at a leisurely pace as two of her dogs ran circles around her. She looked down at her last dog, a beautiful and very large german shepard. His name was Bullet, and he walked with a limp in his back leg, thanks to an unhappy incident in his past. He walked contentedly by her side, his black face looking up at her as she looked down at him. He was a quiet dog, with an easy diposition and protective quality to him. He was a former police dog; her brother's partner before his injury forced him to retire. She hated picking favorites among her animals, but she had to say, Bullet was definitely her favorite. Not that she didn't love her other dogs. She looked up at the sound of a sharp bark, and saw her Doberman, Mac, snarling at a man in a suit. Mac hated people in suits.

"Mac, come here right now!" she commanded, snapping her fingers. The lithe canine came trotting over, his head down; he knew he was in trouble. "Sorry, sir," she said to the man, who 'hmphed' and strode away. She glared at his back and mouthed 'bite me jackass'. Bullet leaned against her leg and sighed dramatically, a sign that it was time to sit down and let the old dog rest. That was another thing about Bullet, he was already nine years old. Dogs only lived, what, fifteen years? May twenty if you're lucky, but nine was still pretty old. She sat herself on the grass, and Bullet laid down at her side, rolling onto hisside to soak up the sun. Mac laid on his stomach and put his head in his paws. This was nice.

A tiny red blur destroyed that thought, and she looked down at her suddenly heavy lap to find her last dog sitting -scratch that, Nero never sat, he squirmed- on her crossed legs. He was an odd cross between an Irish Setter and a Beagle, and for that reason, he looked incredibly funny. He was the size a Beagle, but looked exactly like an Irish Setter. It was like someone had shrunk him. However, he made up for his diminutive size with uncontrollable energy. She sighed and stroked behind his ears, enjoying the solitude.