A lovely drive and some questions.

Setting Winnie down in the passenger seat, she sighs in relief and pats some dirt off of her paw pads. You catch a glimpse of those little pink beans under her toes, wriggling in delight as you run around to get into the driver's seat. She's just too feckin' cute! Doors close, seatbelts buckled, you start the car and make your escape from the parking lot. Winnie's tail tries to wag against the seat, but only succeeds in flicking and wiggling. Her eyes don't leave the nearby window, watching buildings and other cars sweep by. One of her hands rests on the cool glass, and you're eager to see the shape of her padded handprint.

"So." You break the silence, jarring Winnie a little. "Can't really call you Winnie anymore, can I? You need a Companion Name. That should be our first decision, right?"

Your dog nods excitedly, eyes twinkling over at you. "New name! New name! What Sir pick?"

"Hmmm... well, I've got a few ideas, but I want you to let me know what you think. I don't want to give you another name you don't like."

Your consideration is rewarded with her glowing, bright smile. "Yes, Sir!"

"Okay, so... you don't like Winnie, but how about Winnifred? That's a bit more distinguished."

She crinkles her nose immediately, shaking her head. "Winnie-Fred still just Winnie. No like."

You chuckle, figuring as much. "Alright, so nothing close to Winnie, got it. How about... a Japanese name?" She tilts her head at you, making a questioning hum. "You're a Shiba, which is a Japanese breed. Why not a Shiba name, like... Hana? Or Momo?"

She gave this one some more thought, putting a finger to her chin and looking at the ceiling. "Mmm... Shiba from Japan, but... me not from Japan."

Your eyebrows raise again. "That's a fair point! Boy, you're smart." You pat her head gently, getting a pleased yip in response. "Hmm... so you want a more local name, an American name. Still doesn't narrow it down much." You hum and curl your mouth, giving it some more thought while you drive.

"Sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, it's fine. This is important, so it's good to think hard about it." You give your dog a reassuring smile, looking her form up and down again. Your heart flutters, thinking again of her cute little toe beans.

Beans... beans... bea...

"How about... Beatrice?"

Her ears perk up, mentally chewing your suggestion. "Bee-ah-triss?"

You nod. "Yup. It's a fancy name. A happy name. And you make me happy every time I look at you."

Your dog flushes brightly, knees drawn into a bashful wiggle. "Sir is very nice."

"So what do you think? Does Beatrice sound okay?"

She thinks a little bit longer before giving you a nod. "Beatrice new name! Sir name me Beatrice!"

You laugh along with her, giving a celebratory cheer. "Beatrice it is! Your name companion name."

"Yay! Beatrice, Beatrice!" Seems she really likes the name. She wiggles and waves her limbs in celebration, all up until there's a loud Ping! and a startling clatter zipping around the cabin. You flinch, trying to glance around and find the culprit while still keeping your eyes on the road.

Something settling on the dashboard catches your attention. A shirt button. Beatrice's hands clasp onto her front, cheeks burning a fiery red. She's popped a button off her top with all that celebratory bouncing.

"Aaaaaand we'll get you some bigger shirts, while we're at it." Beatrice just nods.

~

"Sir? Where go?"

"The store."

"Store?"

"Yup, just the store. I've got a lot of the basics already, but I didn't want to get too many personal items without you getting to pick them out yourself."

"We go to pet store?"

You chuckle, but shake your head. "Maybe later, but no." Beatrice's ears droop a little. "Don't worry, there's toys at the general store! I'd rather shop there, anyway. Pet store essentials are a bit shoddy."

"Shod-dy..."

"Low quality. Not good enough."

She nods in understanding. "Sir get Beatrice nice things?"

You nod back. "That's the plan."

Beatrice perks right back up, smiling brightly just as you get to the general store parking lot. "Sir too nice!" She gasps suddenly, hands going over her mouth. "Sir! Sir must pick owner name!"

"Huh??" Parking the car, you unbuckle and turn to face Beatrice, not quite picking up her vibe.

"Sir name Beatrice. What Beatrice call Sir?"

"Oh!" You smack your forehead. "Of course, of course. Well, you know my name is Luke, so that's an option."

Beatrice shakes her head, also unbuckling as her face turns pink again. "Sir try different names for Beatrice. Can... Beatrice try for Sir?" Seeing no issue with it (and trying not to go into a diabetic coma. So cute!), you relax and wait for her to think up a list.

"Master?"

You curl your nose, "Nah. Too mean-sounding."

Beatrice pouts and nods. "Sir not mean! Um... Sir like Sir?"

Another shake of your head. "Too formal. Not friendly."

Her face scrunches up, cheeks glowing. Leaning a little closer, she puts a hand on your knee, looking into your eyes before whispering, "...Daddy?"

Your whole head heats up with a blushing blow, body pushing back against the door to try and make space between the two of you. Laughter is your only coping mechanism, though it makes you sound a little manic. "No! Nope, no no, ha, nooooo... not that one. Let's j-just... Let's stick with Luke. Just my name, that's perfectly fine." Where the hell did she even hear that one?

She recoils from your outburst, shrinking in on herself. "Beatrice do bad??"

Shaking off your embarrassment, you clear your throat and pat her shoulder. "No, you didn't do bad. Just, not that one. Especially in public," you mutter under your breath. "Just call me Luke, okay?" She nods, accepting your order.

"Luke."

God, her sweet little voice saying your name makes your heart flutter. You nod again, your attention drawn to the popped button on her blouse, exposing a little bit of the soft golden almond fur hidden within. Turning away, you press your head to the cold glass of your window and take a deeeep breath. Stop it, you. Do not do this.

"Alright, out! Time to shop!"

It's all the same things you do normally. Groceries and supplies for the apartment. You check coupons and see if there's any nice sales on useful goods. You browse the clearance racks and surplus bins. All perfectly normal, regular errands.

So why can't you calm down? A stupid question, you know why. Her name is Beatrice now, and her every move and sound makes your heart catch in your chest.

You were a little concerned at first, thinking you should have perhaps used that leash you had in the glove compartment. Younger companions sometimes have a tendency to "forget" their training in the first few days of leaving the K.A., being too excited about being adopted. As you suspected and hoped, Beatrice is perfectly well behaved, walking beside you briskly and often without a peep. She stares curiously at every little thing as you go by, but always keeps herself diligently by your side. A very good girl, looking with her eyes and not her fingers.

More than just being reserved and obedient, Beatrice seems accustomed to this kind of shopping trip. She quietly sniffs out the meat you're looking at for meals, letting you know which one is the freshest. With the face she makes at the packages labeled with lower prices, you start to worry if you've been doing yourself a disservice with your frugality. She's determined to prove her worth right at the starting line, and isn't leaving the menial tasks and decisions just for you.

"Do you know a lot about food, Beatrice?"

"Beatrice cook good!"

"Oh wow, you already know how to cook?" Talk about a time-saver. You can't cook worth a damn yourself, despite best efforts, and weren't likely to succeed in teaching her to do so.

She nods proudly, pointing to the rack of herbs nearby. "Beatrice know what greens good for meats." Good to know she's already past the puppy-ish phase of only wanting meat.

"Alright, then do you want to pick what we have for dinner tonight?"

"Okay!" She beams up at you, stepping forward just enough to look over their selection of herbs and vegetables. Her little curly-Q of a tail wags and wags, a chipper smile stuck on her face.

This. This is exactly why you wanted a companion. Even things as mundane as errands are heavenly and sweet with Beatrice around. More than ever, you feel you've made the right call in adopting her.

For a moment, you sit back by the cart and just admire her, taking in her gorgeous profile. With her head craned back, leaning slightly, you can see more of her backside that's normally veiled by her curtain of blond hair. Ho-ly shit does she have a plump, round ass. You assumed as much with how very wide her hips are, but actually seeing how far it juts behind her is incredible. You're not even sure how she gets her pants on, though you suspect that might be why she avoids bending down at the waist. One wrong move and she's going to bust more than her blouse buttons.

...

OH GOD, HER BLOUSE!

You had completely forgotten! Poor Beatrice is calmly parading around the store with her tits trying to spill out of her top! Not only is it inappropriate, but she can't be comfortable like that. You mentally kick yourself, pushing the cart forward just as she makes her decision on carrots, ginger, and dill. Your companion has a refined palate. Her head tilts up at you, curious over your distressed expression.

"Luke okay?"

"I'm fine, are you?" You lower your voice to a whisper. "What about your buttons?"

She glances down as she sets the food in the cart, fingers finding her own flesh through the open hole in her top. "...Oh. Yes." You're not entirely sure what she's thinking as she nibbles her lower lip. "Maybe... Luke and Beatrice get clothes?"

"Yes, let's go get you some clothes, I'm so sorry." Beatrice doesn't answer you, calmly returning to your side and following you toward the clothing section.

~

Planning to make a quick trip of it, you're not concerned about the fresh meat in your cart as you enter the aisles and racks of clothing. Since both humans and canidus can have similar body shapes and sizes, the two aren't often separated any more than men's and women's clothing is. Some spunky teens even wear canidus-oriented clothing on purpose to be expressive or rebellious, given their sizes are comfortably between child and adult sizes. The opposite is true as well, owners wanting their tiny companions to wear kid's clothing to emphasize their immense cuteness, while the larger ones almost look like people in regular adult clothing. Just make space for the tail!

Speaking of tails, Beatrice's is positively buzzing, the girl tottering about and looking at all the pretty designs and colors. She's taken several garments off the racks, having been allowed to try them on and make sure they get something that not only fits, but that looks nice on her. With her upper body being so petite and her bottom so not, finding things that match is frustrating, but not impossible.

Soon enough, she's ready to dip into a changing room and try on some clothes! The store understands that not everyone comes to shop alone, thankfully providing a nearby bench for you to sit and wait while Beatrice changes into something hopefully better than her ill-fitting, busted-button, strained-seam K.A. clothes. It's silly, you know, to be so excited about getting your companion dressed up. Mom and Dad told you, many many times, not to spoil her once you got her. You recognize this advice, you've taken it to heart, and with full, lucid sincerity, thrown it out the window. How can you not want to pamper such an adorable doggo? You've had her for all of an hour or two and she's already a prim, proper, obedient companion. What's the harm in rewarding her for such a wonderful first impression? The least you can give her is some proper clothes. Sure, she's technically, legally allowed to accompany you in nothing but the Companion Standard (a set of tight, featureless black clothing akin to a swimsuit), but for both her modesty and your sanity, it's best to keep her dressed. Something needs to contain all that wobble and sway...