Mark listened to the meeting and although he didn't have anything to say, he still had his own thoughts about what had happened.  "Yeah, I'll do that Alexei" replied Mark when the boss said there had to be a proper burial.  "My dogs have been trained to keep away from area with certain markers.  Our men will undisturbed".  Those special markers were also a reason Mark wouldn't wake up to dog pee all over his motorbike.

When the meeting finished, Mark left the room and headed outside.  Putting his fingers to his lips, Mark gave a low whistle and padded his lap twice.  Muttons, his American Pit Bull Terrier, bounded out from the alleyway where he was previously told to stay.  The names of his other dogs were Rump, Tbone and Sirloin, the list went on.  But for today, it was Mutton's turn for a fun roadtrip.  The others were just allowed to explore everywhere around the junkyard though they each had their preferred areas.  

[url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:American_Pit_Bull_Terrier_-_Seated.jpg]Muttons[/url] happily circled Mark twice before giving everyone else around him a little sniff (making sure not to get his nose on their nice garments).  He recognised their scents as friendly ones from before and happily wagged his tail.  Not only that, the dog knew that if Mark was around other people and he had a neutral or happy tone, then they were friends.  If there was no patting of the lap, then  they were enemies.  Each dog had it's own whistle-tone, as well as an 'all dogs on deck' one.  Secret to such an elaborate communication system?  Guarding a junkyard meant that you had a lot of time, as dog or human.

"This is Muttons, the youngest of the pack" said Mark to those around him.  "And don't worry, he's currently not shedding" he added, more for Chris than anyone.