[fancypost borderwidth=0px][justify][sub]Once or twice, he'd been involved in a rather mundane task. He'd been sent with his master - or, perhaps, partner - to roam the town they were stationed in throughout the weekend and look about for suspicious activity, considering it was a dangerous time of year and one of the best immobilisers was a dog. He'd spent most of the day time accepting hugs from little kids, nuzzling their faces and wagging his tail to play the part, playing a gentle tug of war with them and a stick, sitting, coming, staying and performing many other tricks at their command. It had been tedious, but he'd done it anyway, done it for the man at his side, watching to make sure no rough play initiated.
It had been one of the best days of his life. Not because of the people, the pulling at his ears in the day and the smashing of bottles in the distance at night, but because of the approving stare he received from his partner all the way through, particularly when he danced for a four year old girl.
No more, though. Alistair was alone. With a miserable glint in his eyes, the dog began to dig a hole where he thought he was alone. Why was he digging? Not because it was a habit, but because he wanted to bury his problems.