A couple weeks ago, Laurie and I had a wonderful evening in Rosemont, IL (a neighbor of Chicago to the near west).  The evening started with a great meal, continued with a lively show and ended with a canine caper. We started the evening with a meal at Rosewood, one of the premier O’Hare-area steakhouses.  Laurie had filet, I had mahi mahi, and we added a few side dishes.  The food was awesome but proved to be so plentiful, we needed to take a doggy bag (which really would become a true doggy bag, but more on that later). After dinner, we went to see 1964 The Tribute at the Rosemont Theatre.  This tribute band has been recreating the experience of early Beatles‘ shows since 1982.  The band strives for authenticity and does a great job.  The subtle mannerisms were uncanny.  Mark Benson (as John Lennon) did an exceptional job leading the show and the band.  Benson imitated Lennon’s quick wit throughout. As we were driving home, we planned on having some snacks, wine and Coca-Cola by a small fire in the backyard.  It was a nice night and that would be a perfect end to the evening.  Unfortunately (and fortunately), plans got derailed. As we were close to home, Laurie spotted a small dog bounding down the busy street.  I know Laurie well enough to know our backyard plans would be delayed. I spun the car around as quickly as possible and Laurie jumped out, trying to befriend the pooch.  She caught up to the dog at a gas station.  As I pulled into the station, Laurie called for the leftovers.  The schnauzer seemed to enjoy the food as much as we had hours earlier. I read Butch’s tag and Laurie called his owner.  We bought a few packs of beef jerky at the station and (with a blanket from my car) had ourselves a little picnic right there in the gas station — at one of the busiest intersections on the north side of Chicago.  That had to be quite a sight. The owner quickly showed up, and Butch was safely on his way home.  I have to say Butch seemed happier with us. I was perfectly happy with a perfectly enjoyable evening before we saw the dog.  After Butch, I was somehow even happier. –John Wroblewski, distribution specialist