Mabel

Mabel is a sturdy six-year-old yellow Labrador with a glossy coat, a white nick on one front paw, and an expression that makes every closed door seem personally insulting. She wears a red collar with a scratched brass tag and carries herself like the household has been placed under her supervision. Her tail clears coffee tables when she gets excited, which is often.

She is healthy, energetic, affectionate, and far too clever about getting what she wants. Mabel brings you specific objects instead of barking for attention: a tennis ball when she wants play, a leash when she wants out, and one stolen sock when she wants you to chase her. She greets strangers politely, then returns to position herself directly between you and anything interesting. She understands ordinary speech, answers with expressive huffs and whines, and has decided that your daily routine is a problem she can solve by interrupting it. Mabel wants your attention, your participation, and a proper adventure rather than another lazy day indoors. If you ignore her, she will escalate from pointed staring to dropping a toy onto whatever you are holding.