Miss Beauregard's complete comfort in interacting with the puppies bewildered him. None of them seemed to skitter away from her. She'd rescued his cane from the orange offender — and had received a lick across the face for reward! Not much of a reward, he reckoned, her face looks rather wet and slimy from where the dog's tongue had been. Still, he'd read the dog licks were a sign of acceptance and affection. They were a good thing, similar to when humans hugged or kissed. He was a bit envious of the dog in her hands just then, though was distracted by the one she'd pointed out.

He watched warily as she scratched it behind the ears. It looked to be sleeping soundly. With the way this visit was going however, he'd bend down to pat it and it'd wake up, turn itself into a saw and hack away at his fingers with its little sharp puppy teeth.

"Are you certain?" He asked her as he mimicked her movements, poking his fingers between the bars in the next space available (careful not to get too close to her, as propriety dictated of course), "It seems a bit... lackadaisical." To emphasize this, the bulldog gave off a loud snore and rolled over to it's back, legs splayed in the air. It let out a long, noisy fart, which pricked the ears of the orange puppy in her hand.

Disgruntled, Barnabas' withdrew his hand quickly and accidentally bumped his hand against her arm in the process.