Greta sighs softly, her hand coming to rest in the general vicinity of Saoirse's shoulder. "Well, let me put it another way," she says with all the calm practicality that she can muster, "we can either send Regan out for some black hair dye, or we can try and find a professional stylist who might be able to do something else. Except we probably won't be able to get you an appointment today because it's short notice, and whenever we do manage to schedule something, you'll have to leave the house like this." She lightly touches the fur on top of Saoirse's head to indicate that she's talking about the green situation and not the seal situation.

"Which of those options sounds better to you?"