Christ. How we're breathing doesn't bother you, but a dog-

[Chill, Hank. Find your center, or some bullshit like that.]

Yeah. He's uh- big. He's a Saint Bernard, about yea high. [He holds a hand up, then grimaces as he realizes that doesn't really work when he's kind of floating off the ground.] Whatever. You'll uh, know him when you see him, he's around here somewhere. I should, uh-

[He rubs at his forehead, muttering to himself.]

I should really figure out some kind of leash.