"I think the rug's kind of an expected thing to trip over. A little cliched. I'm looking for something with a bit more panache."
Or, really, he's just looking to hang up his soaking wet coat -- it really is kind of an atrocious plaid, something that he seems to have a penchant for -- and then shrug out of his cardigan, hanging that up, too. That done, and nothing tripped over yet, he turns to look at the dog. It's an appraising glance, but not a judgmental one. The dog seems well behaved, and as he'd said, individual dogs are much, much better than groups of them.
Unfortunately, he now has no idea what he's supposed to do. They've spoken, they've had drinks, he's followed Ned back home and hung up his coat and done all the expected things, and he suddenly feels at a loss. So he crosses over to Digby, offering him a hand to sniff, and then scratching his head gingerly.
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Or, really, he's just looking to hang up his soaking wet coat -- it really is kind of an atrocious plaid, something that he seems to have a penchant for -- and then shrug out of his cardigan, hanging that up, too. That done, and nothing tripped over yet, he turns to look at the dog. It's an appraising glance, but not a judgmental one. The dog seems well behaved, and as he'd said, individual dogs are much, much better than groups of them.
Unfortunately, he now has no idea what he's supposed to do. They've spoken, they've had drinks, he's followed Ned back home and hung up his coat and done all the expected things, and he suddenly feels at a loss. So he crosses over to Digby, offering him a hand to sniff, and then scratching his head gingerly.