There’s no crowd in the art-supply store, and I find the notebook I’m looking for (Moleskine, red, line-ruled, medium) no problem. I’m searching the aisles for a better pencil sharpener when I spot, and am spotted by, a small horse that turns out to be a Great Dane.
I politely ask his owner if I can say hi, but the dog is already spooning me in such a way that I almost, but not quite, fall down.
“My wife would kill me if I didn’t pet your dog,” I explain as I attempt to stay upright.
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