Amer and Stitches

Amy Tokash and I have been power walking while Alison and Jenna have their 1-hour ballet class on Wednesday. A couple weeks ago, it was a beautiful fall day and we were huffing and puffing along the residential streets near the Fox Hill Dance Academy.

The neighborhoods around the dance studio aren't bad, but there are some areas where we go quicker than in others. As we rounded one corner, we saw a bunch of little boys playing in the street. Turns out they were chasing a dog. I thought they were playing but when we realized they were chasing the little mutt just ahead of us, we offered to join in.

Amer got to the little dog first. She crouched down and cooed to the little fella.

"Hey lady, know what our dog's name is?" the kids say to me.

With the crouching Amer in my periphery, I say, "Nope. What's your dog's name?"

"Stitches," he says.

"Huh," I say, not really caring about the dog and wondering just how long my work out is going to be interrupted while Amy fawns all over the fleabag.

"Know why we call him that?" the kid asks.

"Come on Stitches, Come her fella," Amer croons.

"Cause he bites," says the kid. "And people have to get stitches."

"Uh, Amer," I say, reaching out. "Back away from the dog."

"Huh?" she says, annoyed that I'm stretching on her shirt.

"Back. Away. From. The DOG!," I say, through gritted teeth. "He's a biter!"

"Ack!" she says and nearly falls down trying to get away.

We came as close to jogging as the pair of us will ever get. Stitches and his band of little brothers went off in search of another victim.

I think I lost 10 pounds on the way back laughing at Amy.

Tomorrow night, we're taking a different path, though.