February 2nd, 1893 — Bernards Home

Since the death of his old school chum Reginald Hargrieves, and the hilarious bequeathing of a wolf hound to a man who disdained all company, even animal, followed quickly by an Augury. It had become something of a running joke for his friends, much to his chagrin to bequeath him all sorts of weird and wonderful animals purely to annoy him.

As much as he didn't want or like the animals he was also not a cruel or capricous person, and so, while he did not undertake the day to day care of the animals he did make periodic arrangements for someone who was an expert in them to assess their relative healths. His grounds men and ghillies to take care of most of the creatures needs, but they were not experts. They did as they were advised - not because they knew how to what they were doing.

Bernard sat before the fire in his study, his long legs crossed, the other Bernard - the wolf hound slouching by his feet. The door to the study opened and his butler showed in the mazizoologist. Bernard looked up, padding to sniff at the mans legs, 'Leave him alone,' he growled shortly at the dog, who returned to his place by the fire at his masters feet. 'So? What's the damage?' he asked, reaching for the decanter by his hand to refill his short glass and filled an empty one indicating that the other should join him.

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