Awkwardness seemingly glossed over, Tetora makes the effort to get back up on his feet - easier now that the mention of food seems to have caught both dogs' attention, the two walking back and forth in poorly concealed interest. DD's a little more subtle about it with his slow-wagging tail, while Mama's perked ears leave nothing to doubt.

Tetora pats both on their flanks, runs his nails along both dogs' backs all the way up to the crown of their heads. He's mentally calculating how much weight either dog carries, and if he can lift at least one of them up. For exercise. Maybe. He has badly hidden motives for the dogs and he's sure Miller's picked up on it the minute his back hit the carpet earlier.

Folloing Miller over is easy enough, at least; the dogs don't get in the way much, though they bump against Tetora's legs. It's fairly unavoidable when they're both of a large breed. "How often do I feed them?"