Aziraphale's eyes were mostly closed now as he kept patting. "No, no. Doggiesh're scary," he said, quite knowledgeable on the subject. "They come outta nowhere an' eat angelsh, 'n' since I'm an anshel, I get eaten, and that's... that's..."

He searched for a word as he sipped his wine. "Bad," he said at length. "That's bad. An' you, you are not scary. Therefore, you are not a doggie, and that is good."

He kept patting him throughout this drunken speech. Really he was awfully thin.

"You're sk - sk - tiny," he slurred out, "like you haven't eaten in years. I ought to take you out to a place where you eat lots of food."