Bobby had been playing with Aria the cat the entire day. Then, he saw his mother's Facebook update, and his eyes widened. There, on a photo, were his friends and little Alex with granny Patricia.

The five-year-old gasped. Alex had gotten adopted, gone on his first walk, and no one had invited him to tag along. Bobby felt betrayed at that, and his lower lip trembled.

The tears streamed out of his eyes, one after the other, and he gave out a loud wail, falling on his bum. His mother came and looked between her opened Facebook and the crying toddler, and she chuckled.

"Now, Bobby, what is this? How are you going to go out and join the walk if you are crying?" Bobby sniffled.

"But I wasn't invited," he received a pet on the head and was picked up.

"They are two blocks from here, see?" She pointed at the picture, and Bobby did indeed recognize the donut shop at the corner. "I am certain that, by the time you get dressed, we will be able to catch up to them."

Bobby rushed to the coat rack and took his jacket. His mother helped him get dressed and they both went out. Just as they exited the apartment complex, the party and their dogs came around the corner.

"Now, Bobby, remember that you can't touch or pet the dogs. You are allergic," Bobby nodded. He knew. Even though he loved dogs, he was denied the chance to pet them and love them. But he also enjoyed walking side by side with them. He had gone to walks with Lisa's dog many times.

When the party reached them, Bobby was left with them and his mother went back inside. He walked at the fringe of the group, with the two dogs being walked on the other side.

The boy had to crane his neck to see them. And he smiled and waved at Alex every chance he got. The puppy rewarded him by winking at him, a couple of times, and Bobby regretted not being able to go and pet him.

They made it to the park and the dogs were let inside the dog area, with the children being left outside it, so that Bobby didn't feel left out.

"Bobby, how do you feel?" Jon asked his friend. Bobby's eyes were puffy and Jon worried that his allergy might have acted up.

"I am ok. I didn't touch wither of the puppies," assured him, Bobby, and he watched the two dogs chase after each other in longing. Lisa saw the look and the puffy eyes, and she realized that Bobby must have been crying.

It was just not fair, for someone who loved dogs as much as Bobby to be allergic to them. But things were as they were. And even she, at her tender age of seven, knew that life was not always fair.

Lisa placed a hand on top of Bobby's shoulder, and the blonde boy turned to look at her.

"If you like, daddy can make you an Alex plushie," Lisa offered. Her birthday was soon, and she hadn't asked for anything yet. Her father was good at making toys. Perhaps, they could even make Bobby the plushie together?

"You don't really need to," Bobby felt his eyes becoming misty again. But he remembered at the last second that he was not home, and he was in front of a girl, besides. He couldn't show weakness.

"You are my friend, Bobby," Bobby lost the fight against his tears and one fell. Lisa pulled out a handkerchief out of her dress's pocket and wiped it clean.

"Don't let the puppies see that you are sad. Or they will try to give you kisses and then, your allergy will activate," Lisa spoke with all the wisdom of a seven-year-old and Bobby nodded.

They returned to staring at the dogs, not noticing that Patricia had filmed the entire exchange. The crafty elderly woman forwarded the video to Lucita, Bobby's mother, for her to use as a teasing material when Bobby grew up and didn't bring in his dates to meet his parents.

They spend another hour watching the dogs play and, then, they all went home, dropping off the children on the way. Lenore and Jon came back to Patricia's home and helped her get Alex off his leash.

Not that she had needed the help, what with the puppy sitting on his back legs and looking expectantly and patiently at them. But this was as good an excuse as any to invite people to her home for tea.

The smell of mint soon filled the beige colored house, and Lenore and Jon were sat on the couch and looking at a photo album.

"And this is from when my son, Ben, was just two. See the onesie? I sew it for him myself," Patricia boasted, and Lenore looked impressed.

"All of Jon's onesies were bought," she pulled out her phone and showed her friend a picture of Jon, who couldn't have been older than 3, in a mouse onesie. Complimented with drawn whiskers on his cheeks.

"Mom! You promised you deleted those," Jon grumbled as Lenore chuckled. Not apologetic in the slightest.

"Now, now, Jon. One day, you will have children. Then, I will ask you if you have deleted your children's embarrassing photos!" Jon looked thoughtful at that.

"I won't take them in the first place. To preserve their dignity," Patricia's eyes widened comically at the use of the grown-up word.

"So, Jon, you want to have children one day?" Jon nodded, not sensing the trap being placed around his ankle.

"With little Lisa? Or, maybe, Beth?" Patricia carefully loaded the springing mechanism as Jon looked on, confused.

"Lisa is too old and Beth is snotty," Jon stated, and Lenore tugged at his ear.

"And you are mister perfect, eh? You better not tell such things to the girls. If you don't tell them something nice next time you see them, Patricia and I will make you a puppy onesie and make you wear it," Patricia beamed at that.

She would welcome the company. And, even if Jon's face told volumes about the fact that he was indeed going to shower the girls with compliments next time he saw them, Patricia was sure that Lenore, and she, would still make the onesie.