Ellen had been about to say something, but to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure what. Not actually having to say anything... well, it kind of feels like cheating, but in its own way, it does help.

"Just a minute."

She whistles sharply, and Dogmeat comes trotting out from under one of the tables.

"Okay, I think we're good."

(She'll worry about what this means, whether apologies are warranted, and similar questions later. Sometimes that line of thought leads only to fretting.)