A Dog Degree WITH HONOURS, Mind You

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Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“Tess, you’re being too hard on yourself again.”
The frantic rummaging in the wardrobe paused as a haughty scoff escaped. “You would say that.”
Barnaby sighed. “You know I’m right. Working yourself into a tizzy isn’t-”
“I know you know nothing about fashion!”
“I’m not convinced that crowd does either.” Barnaby cast a sidelong glance at the photos arrayed on the laptop. “It’s just a garden party, Tess.”
“It’s not just a garden party!” Tess stepped out to glare at him, arms tightly folded - though not because she hadn’t settled on a shirt; he’d seen her naked plenty of times. “It’s the only party I’ve been invited to in the six years we’ve been living here!”
“Yes, and that Jamila person seems very nice-”
“Of course you’d say that she gave you snacks.”
Barnaby looked hurt. “I don’t judge people on whether they’d be a good friend just-”
“Oh I know.” Tess flopped onto the bed in an amateur exhausted swoon. “She also scratched you behind the ears and said you’re a cutie.”
“That just proves she has manners and eyes.” Barnaby said, with assurance she bitterly envied, particularly right now. He was serenely convinced that he was the smartest, cutest, bestest dog ever and everyone should love him. “What matters is she seems genuinely interested in getting to know people, and when describing the party she took pains to say that folks from all walks of life would be there.”
He hopped up on the bed to poke her face with his cold, damp nose. “She didn’t mention a dress code. Or expectations. Asked if you’d need any accommodations, in fact. Now that’s a green flag.”
Tess grinned despite herself. “That isn’t comforting from someone with red-green colourblindness.”
“Hey!”
“I know you’re right, I know you’re right.” Tess rolled over and pulled him into a hug. “I just…”
“It’s a lot of people, almost all of them new, and you’re excited, which means you’re also scared it’ll go wrong.” Barnaby filled in with the practiced ease of a trained therapy dog who’d lived with her for most of a decade.
“…Yeah.” Tess sighed and hugged him tight.
Barnaby licked her ear, his tail thumping a soothing drumbeat. “So, pick an outfit you like to wear, something comfortable that you feel safe wearing in front of strangers. And do your meditation before we go. And if you need to leave early just say I’m getting overstimulated.”
“If I keep using that excuse somebody’ll figure out I’m the one getting overstimulated.”
“I doubt it.”
“You’ve got a psychology degree specialising in not freaking out.”
“Yes, but I’m a dog.” Barnaby’s tongue lolled out in a cheeky grin. “Nobody takes dog degrees seriously.”
“Mm.” Tess stared uncertainly at the photos. “I just… I don’t want to stick out like a weed in a field of wildflowers.”
Barnaby booped her nose with a sage snort. “All wildflowers are weeds to somebody, Tess. We’ll find people who love you as you are.”

Prompt was “I don't want to stick out like a weed in a field of wildflowers.”