"That was what happened." Brand, sitting on the sofa, stroked the soft ears drooping beside the white dog's head and said, "This dog is at least as intelligent as a human. It just can't talk."
"In psychiatry, I'm more versed in pathology. As for magic, I'm not skilled in mediumship or soul magic either. I have no way to communicate with Krypton, and he seems to need someone to listen to his troubles right now."
"When Hal entrusted him to me, he specifically emphasized that this was a heroic dog. Back in Metropolis, he saved two children from drowning, helped the police subdue suspects, stopped two robberies and a Domestic Violence incident. So you really have to help him, Schiller."
"I'm not questioning how wonderful this dog is. I know he's Clark's dog, and his abilities and character are almost exactly like Clark's. The problem is, I'm a human psychologist. I haven't studied pet psychology either. Finding a professional dog trainer would probably be more reliable than coming to me."
"But a dog trainer can't communicate directly with Krypton." Brand shook his head. "Only you can use your High Tower of thought or Mad Wine to enter dreams, speak directly with this dog, and provide psychological counseling."
"So that's what you meant." Schiller leaned back against the sofa and said, "But honestly, human and canine minds may not be able to understand one another. I'm not sure whether human psychotherapy will work on a dog, but I can do my best."
But Schiller turned to look at Jason and Harley, who were interacting on either side of the sofa, and said, "You need to take those two back with you. I don't have time to babysit."
"Oh, come on, you've got plenty of free time now." Brand took a sip