"I did not!" he protests, even though that's exactly what he did. He feels he can't be blamed, though. "And I never said he should be yours." Just that he would like him better. There's a slight difference, there. As someone who likes Cougar better than most other people (most of the time), Jake feels he can relate to the puppy in this instance.

The dog is picking up on their distress, wiggling around between them on the ground, whining quietly and just generally being cute but also concerned. Jake relates to that too.

"No, Cougar—" he starts, only to have Cougar attempt to take a step closer and immediately lose his footing, pitching forward, his arms windmilling. It takes no thought at all to lunge closer and reach out to halt his fall, big hands closing on Cougar's waist to hold him steady, his body angled to support his friend's should he need it. "Whoah, careful."