There are pats. Pats from multiple directions. It's enough to drown in. There's this kind of unique relaxation that one gets when being patted - a kind of total full-body relaxation, not borne of tiredness but of enjoying the moment so utterly that the mind deliberately shuts down even the slightest twitch of the body in case it interferes with the pats. Pats were serious business relaxation. In fact the only struggle she was faced with was the faint ache in her heart at the idea that the people being so nice as to provide pats weren't getting pats of their own. She haphazardly paw-batted and licked at the people and faces around her to communicate her desire to reciprocate but was far too easily suppressed back into a state of quiescence.

And in the relaxation she could start to find some focus again. She had achieved the Meaning of Life, as defined by dogs, so she could find herself with just enough mindset to focus on things around her once more. She finally, gradually starts to release her collected hug-ees from their fluffy prison. She could feel the crackle of higher consciousness start to build in her head again and she started looking around a bit more sharply, a bit more clearly. She even reached out to bite one of the sandwiches -

- and stopped. Because taking food without being offered it was Bad. So instead she gently picked up the tray in her mouth and brought it around to offer to Princess Dandy, eyes full of apology.