Stress. It was funny how five letters could sum up the entirety of the past month, enough so that Cathy found herself, quite literally, on the verge of a breakdown. Needing to get some air before it happened then and there, she snapped a leash on Reb and took a break from the apartment, from the Welcome Center, from the boards, from the rest of L.A., trading it all for something very simple: a jog. The park seemed to house too many distractions for Reb, so they instead found themselves in a nearby residential area, and that was just fine...
Until the puppy decided he wanted to make friends with some poor, unsuspecting woman gardening in her front yard. The leash slipped from her hand and Cathy found herself all but diving on the mutt to stop him in his tracks before he ruined her hard work. It worked, but she felt like an idiot.
"I'm sorry!" she apologized sheepishly, face ten shades of pink as she began to drag the puppy away, making reassurances. "He's harmless, just still learning how to behave himself." And again. "I'm so sorry."