"We can put the dog in a room with a bed," he says, "and if it's not a puppy, the chances are it'll sleep." He's trying not to get too visibly excited, still cautious about David's mood about the dog, because he doesn't want to scare him. He still carefully and reverently folds the little paper and tucks it into his pocket, because he doesn't want to ruin it.

And then he moves to the others, sliding his fingers over the watch. "It's beautiful, David," he says, and it looks expensive. Leaning up to reward him with a soft kiss to his cheek, he eases back. "We should go engrave it as soon as we can," he insists. "What do you think we should put on it?"