Anne-Marie trotted down the street, tail held high, and jingling with every step. In her mouth she carried a small, shiny white, paper bag that dangled from her teeth by a silk handle. The bag been filled with scraps of colourful tissue paper, though a bulge in the side suggested it held something more substantial as well. A tag clipped to the handle read "Leo".
Rounding a corner, Anne-Marie weaved between the forest of legs of passing pedestrians. About halfway towards the next intersection she paused and turned towards the road. As her eyes searched one direction, her ears swiveled the opposite way. Cars sped across the lane. A few seconds passed and the way was clear. Anne-Marie hopped down from the sidewalk and started across the street at a brisk walk. She was well and safe on the other side before traffic resumed.
The park would make a nice shortcut to the hospital, one without cars and a scenic journey. Besides, the newly grown grass felt plush and soft under her paw pads. She flexed her claws, enjoying the sensation of sinking them into the dirt. Maybe somewhere she could find a discarded baseball...
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