Cleo glanced in one direction where a mother was playing with her little daughter in front of a small bakery. That mother and daughter were you and your two-year-old daughter, Ellie. He chose to sit in a chair owned by small restaurant next to the bakery, watching the two of you from a distance. As you entered the bakery, the little girl walked toward Cleo, looking in awe and curiosity, pointing at Cleo's Doberman sitting on the ground.

"Can I pet that dawg?"

"What?"

"Can I pet that dawg?" she repeated with a big, wide smile. "I like dawgs, mommy like them as well."

Her little hand reached out in the air, waiting for the Doberman's owner to allow her, and her eyes pleaded with a puppy-dog look. Clever, just like her mother used to be, three years ago.

That made Cleo smile. He crouched down to make eye contact with the child just before you came out of the bakery. Cleo's grin widened when he saw you, but yours faded when you saw the father of your daughter had finally found you and her.