Barnabas openly scowled at the dog, who was pulling on his lead like the poor-mannered brute that he was. Rather blandly - he was over this whole thing by now - he asked, "Did you find my prosthetic leg?" Really, all Barnabas needed was his leg so that he could move around again. He didn't have his wand anymore, so he'd have to clean manually - or at least put some things to rights until his housekeeper and maid could come in the morning.

"I need your name and contact information also," He said a bit more forcefully, "So I know of whom to send the bill for property damages to." He wasn't about to foot the bill for such nonsense. No wonder why he hated animals. They ruined everything.