~Anita
"Oh dear," she uttered as she came out of the bakery, seeing the overturned chair to which she had loosely fastened her dalmatian's leash. Confoundedly, Anita stuffed her treat into her handbag and looked around.
"Perdita!" she called, hurrying around the corner.
There! She spotted that white tail scampering ahead through the crowd, the look of disgust attending the faces of those who disapproved of a free-roaming dog.
With a litany of "Excuse me! Pardon me! Very sorry, coming through!" Anita followed as quick as the unyielding passersby and her skirt would allow. Luckily, she was able to catch up rather easily, and spotted Perdita nosing around one of those old timey police boxes.
Perdita slipped inside, tail wagging.
Anita reached the callbox and called for her dog sternly. When she did not obey, the young woman had no choice but to go inside herself. The door quietly and unobtrusively shut behind her.