Tonight Tim and I went out for drinks.

A man at the bar brought in his 10 week old pit bull/boston terrier puppy. Every time a new woman sat at the bar he would go up to her and put the dog in her lap, tell her she had ten minutes, walk back to his chair, and proceed to have a conversation the woman from across the bar so everyone had to be involved.

We were so wrapped up in the dog, I didn't realize, until I looked up during the ninth inning that Mark Beurhle was pitching a perfect game.

It couldn't hurt to learn not to focus just on what's directly in front of me, even if it is an adorable puppy.