holy HECK ems…! This is so perfect, this is amazing.
I need this. I need Ole Gammer Greenhand and her big happy lollopy puddle of a warg doggo, Heather.
With his big sad eyes whenever she is cooking, so that he gets the scraps. “Bottomless pit… all right, here you are. I spoil you rotten, y’know that?”
And his tendency to try and curl up on her tiny lap, even though he can only fit his head and maaaaaaybe his front paws on there. “Ooof! Oh, you big goof. All right, who wants an ear-scratch? Whosagoodboy? Whoosagooboyden! YOU ARE!”
And his goofy, tongue-lolling grin after he has done a good job chasing the birds off the seedlings. “That’s a lad! Good boy, Heather.”
And oh yes FINE, sure – and his teeth that can crack an ox’s thighbone in one bite. “Oh, that’s just the dog, that crunching noise – pay it no mind me dears.”
and the ranger sees him and stares.
And Gammer Greenhand notices where the ranger is looking, and waves a tiny, wrinkled hand. “That’s just Heather, the great lummox. He’s a big soft lump, but I keep him for the company, you know? It’s nice t’ have someone to talk to, at my age.”








