After half an hour of work, I remembered to check my phone.
Yep, a bunch of messages from the puppy, constantly asking what I was doing and if he should visit me.
How clingy.
I grinned and wrote back that he should behave, that it was alright up here, and I asked what he was doing.
The answer came immediately: the puppy was carrying supplies and steel beams to the elevator we took before.
K: [Don't let them see you carry too heavy stuff.]
Puppy (:3): [I won't. I want to go home. Can we go home now?]
"Hey! Should I confiscate your phone?" Another worker I hadn't seen before bellowed, but I ignored it and told the puppy that we would see each other at lunch.
"HEY! ARE YOU HEARING ME?!" He was around forty, muscular, and had a beard.
I put my phone away.
"Sorry, medical emergency at home." If the puppy wouldn't get reassured properly, it could really turn into a medical emergency…for you—so it wasn't a lie.
