"I suppose we're not," Watson admittedly, rather ruefully. "I don't think I have the heart to." How valuable it had been, after all, to have a dog full of affection crawl into his lap when Holmes was uninterested in him, even if the dog in question was rather too big for it. "At least I doubt she'll be getting any bigger. Do you hear me, Nell? Don't you grow another inch. If you do, there shall be no more snuggling in my lap while I read."

Nell merely kept wagging her tail, looking between them, as happy as a dog could possibly be: warm, and fed, and well-loved. There was something enviable in that, Watson thought.