A/N: Making Kara a superdog made this one about twenty times longer than I wanted, so I went in a slightly different direction. Hope you like it anyway!
National City has plenty of off-leash areas, so Lena doesn’t find it all that concerning when a golden retriever finds her in the park and starts dancing excitedly at the sight of her. She offers a brief pet before sending it on its way and returning to her book.
She does find it a little odd when it comes prancing back with a stick between its teeth. It’s twice as big as the dog is long, which leaves the animal appropriately pleased with itself. Lena scans the park for a likely owner. Plenty of people look amused, but none of them come to collect it.
The dog barks for attention, having dropped the branch at her feet. Its butt wiggles joyously as if to say– Look! Lookit that! Can you believe?!
“Wow!” Lena exclaims softly, conscious of the people around them. “That’s a nice stick you have there.”
The dog play-growls at her sudden animation, bowing briefly before running off a little ways and coming back. The message is clear.
“You wanna play? You wanna fetch?”
The dog goes nuts. Yapping and whining, it dances in front of her, prancing in circles in a poor attempt to contain itself.
“Okay! Okay, let’s play–! Oh.” Lena stares at the branch. “Yeah, I’m not throwing that.”
Trying to pick her way around the dog, Lena strategically snaps off a shorter segment that has both heft and satisfactory aerodynamics, yet will fit comfortably in the dog’s mouth.
“Okay,” she starts again, ramping up the dog’s energy once again. “You ready? You ready?” She waves the stick to either side, ensuring she has the dog’s attention. Then she flings it into the distance.
Well, a very near distance.
She kind of sucks at it, but the dog doesn’t seem to care. It goes pelting after the stick, gathers it up, and comes pelting back. Still wiggling, it immediately starts to whine for another go.
“Okay, okay,” she acquiesces, tucking her lunch and book into her purse and slinging it over her shoulder as they relocate to where there were fewer people. “Okay! Just a few more, but then I have to go back to work.”
Lena keeps to her word, getting at least five good throws in. She scans the area for potential owners all the while. The dog has no collar, but otherwise looks well kept. Its coat shines in the sun, and it appears to be a healthy weight.
It certainly looks happy.
“Okay, last one!” she warns. “Last one!”
She gives this one extra oomph, aiming for a longer, shallower trajectory. she nearly doubles the distance, and smiles as the dog takes off after it. “Bye, sweetie,” she murmurs softly.
An uneasiness settles over her as she turns and heads out of the park. It doesn’t feel right leaving the dog unattended, but she has a meeting to get to, and it’s possible its owner had dipped off for a pit stop somewhere, and will be back any second.
Do people do that in off-leash areas?
It turns out to be a moot point when a whine catches her attention at the edge of the grass. When she turns, a sharp stick jabs her in the thigh.
“Ouch! No, honey, you’re not coming with me.” Lena points the dog back towards the off leash area. The dog lunges as though she’s thrown another stick, but then wises up a heartbeat later and comes prancing back. “Go on! Go to your person!”
The dog wiggles, its whole body wagging. Lena sighs. “Is your person even here?”
Her only response is a sharp whine and a doggy smile around the stick still in its mouth.
This time, Lena turns away and resumes her walk without turning back. She hopes that refusing to acknowledge the dog will make it lose interest and wander back to its owner, wherever they are. Each consecutive block with the dog clicking at her heels disabuses her of that notion. By the time Lena reaches L-Corp, irritation has joined the mix, and she turns sharply on her heel to face the dog.
“Look. You are not my dog. I am not your person. This afternoon was fun, but I have to get back to work, and you need to go back to… wherever you came from. Got it?”
The dog stares at her, eyes searching hers for… something. Slowly, it sits.
Lena turns to go inside– and sighs when another whine precedes the tap of claws on concrete as the dog follows her once more. Oh, god.
“Fine,” Lena surrenders with a roll of her eyes. “But sticks aren’t allowed in the building. Drop it.”
Damp wood clacks to the ground, leaving pieces of bark stuck to the dog’s chops.
Unable to delay any longer, Lena pulls the door open, and walks inside, dog unfailingly at her heels. Security rises to intervene, but she waves them back. This dog, if nothing else, isn’t dangerous. As far as she knows.
She’s watching the dog climb onto her couch, apparently, looking for all the world like it owns the place.
The dog lifts its head with an indignant whine like she’s the one being unreasonable. “Down.”
It slinks off in increments, hoping she’ll change her mind. She doesn’t. Eventually, it curls up dejectedly on the floor instead.
Thumping fills Lena’s office, as a fluffy tail starts wagging. Lena softens. It really is cute.
It’ll need a visit to the vet, for a chip scan and wellness exam, just in case. Lena then realizes she has no collar, no leash, no nothing to care for a dog, even temporarily.
“You sure are a lot of trouble, aren’t you?” Lena sighs as she settles in behind her desk. “You’re lucky I’ve got a thing for blondes.”
A golden head tilts in question, ears perked.
Speaking of which… Lena reaches for her phone, and pulls up her most recent chat window to type a quick text to accompany the picture she snaps of her visitor.
You are not going to believe what happened.
