On the way back from the store, when they were still a block or two from the building where the friend’s studio was, they crossed paths with a woman who the friend knew, but who the painter herself did not know, and who they stopped beside to talk to for a minute, and who they ended up inviting to join them in the friend’s studio, to drink the alcohol they’d purchased, and to chat, once the woman had finished walking her dog, a small white terrier on a leash who the painter just then had knelt in front of to greet and interact with, and to reciprocate its enthusiasm, so that once the painter and the friend were continuing on toward the building where the friend’s studio was, and the woman with the dog had gone a few steps the other way, and had disappeared into her own apartment, having assured them that she’d join them soon, once the dog was asleep or at rest, the painter needed to ask her friend to remind her what the woman’s name was, so that she’d know it when the woman returned, and they were all three together again, though she had not forgotten the woman’s dog’s name.