As the Bernese Mountain Dog trots towards us, heading in the opposite direction, tongue hanging out, dopey expression typical of the breed, Katie leans sideways, her fingers outspread at exactly dog height. I've already switched sides with her, so that she's perfectly positioned for her act of non-sexual doggie frottage.
We continue walking, and she strokes the dog its entire length in one smooth swoop. The dog looks back with a slightly confused expression, the owner unaware of the trespass, and we walk on without a second glance.
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