This guy wasn't in charge, as Shen figured. He was just...not the type. As someone who had been in control of himself and others most of his life, Shen chaffed that he might have to listen to him just because of the overblown court system. So what if he bartered and sold things on the street like a free serve vending machine. Falling into step, he let out a sigh. "Did you say your name?" Brown eyes glanced around, continuing to take in the surroundings without further words that he had no need for. He had to admit, this sanctuary home could belong to some rich pimp in another world. He almost snorted to think of this 'Benny' character in that role. The dull chatter bred such though. Keeping his ears open to still hear the words, he otherwise zoned out until they reached the 'Puppy Meal Room.' Kitsch.

"Okay, so feed, play, train?" he cut in, almost interrupting Driscoll's last words with the speed that he responded. "If that's all there is, it's easy." It wasn't like he was taking care of people. Dogs were at people's feet, just pets or pests. He couldn't imagine that dealing with them would be difficult. Of course, he never had before, but he was sure that this job would require little of his interest or effort because he wasn't doing this for the dogs or even himself. He just came to follow orders.

Puppies waded over his feet a few jumping up his leg rather than running to the food trough or jumping toward Driscoll or the bag of food and he nudged them to the side again, neither kind nor hurtful to the animals. He just preferred them not on his feet. "And no, I've been given a morning to afternoon sort of mandate except on days I meet with my parole officer. It's all neatly scheduled."