[ Minato mumbles something indistinctly, looking away and towards the exit so he can push the door open instead of running face first into it like he'd done with so many of the props that jumped out at him throughout the haunted house that he failed to pull away from. He medicates himself as needed; needed doesn't mean necessary, but talking to himself doesn't work. For dogs... ]

Maybe. [ He squints his eyes in preparation for the blinding light of the festivities outside. ] But I'm more a familiar presence than reassuring. I see my dogs almost every day at work. I don't know the shelter dogs.