Last week Lady Gaga was in New York City and so was I — for the first time in about 20 years.

I went to museums, shopped in Manhattan, ate dolmeh and a few New York City slices, shopped in Brooklyn, saw new friends and old, rode subways and buses with my fancy Metro Card, and generally wandered around.

I didn't go to any of Lady Gaga's sold-out shows at Radio City Music Hall, and of all the things I saw, heard and did, right now I'm thinking about a black and white French bulldog I saw on the Upper East Side one day when I was leaving the Met. I didn't take a picture of him (or her), but here's my sketch of what I remember seeing.

The bulldog walked so quickly and purposefully away from his owner that he tilted sideways. His leash was absolutely taut. I don't know why I liked seeing him so much, but I did. I liked what he did to his leash and I liked him.