I'm trying to master a draconic body language that's immediately intuitive for untrained humans, (no need for horse-whisperers here) but pulls from dogs, cats, and otters. This is supposed to be a portrait of YT's much more open, gleeful affect while on a borderline overdose of the Reindeer drug cocktail, after he was topped up in case the program continued when his implant burned through its time-release dose ahead of schedule. (This may or may not represent deliberate sabotage of his implant, or a side-effect of other deliberate sabotage having unforeseen side-effects. This is plot-relevant to the novel, such as it is.)
The replacement was in the form of a depot injection good for six months. The implant it was replacing had already lost structural integrity and couldn't be removed, so it was simply left in, as the dose e'd receive during the transition was judged to be safe. However, his dosage was already several times what he was expecting, and the mood elevators and entactogens, in addition to the usual doses of oxytocin and steroids he was on have rendered him insufferably cheerful, almost compulsively cuddly, and worryingly suggestible - loyal, submissive, and even grateful.
Of course, due to the events of the charity drive, most of those who would recognize the shift in personality don't have close exposure to him, and are used to him being insufferably enthusiastic around his pet project - thus inclined to downplay his frolicking in front of the media.