Where was I again?

Ever since I got Poodleface the world has had a tendency to get too complicated very, very quickly.
Let me explain: when you're in the middle of a large group of people, for example, you have a lot of things to worry about. Namely the location of your elbows and feet to ensure that you don't step on anyone. If you're like me, you're probably also trying not to brush against anyone or to let them brush against you, and you may or may not be attempting to navigate with a large purse, depending on where you keep your EpiPens. It's a lot to think about. Now, imagine yourself in the same situation, only you're steering a dog. You and the dog are walking close together because of the crowds, and occasionally you'll need to take a rather awkwardly-placed step to avoid treading on the dog. You'll also need to keep watch for any small children (or adults) who want to touch the dog, while still navigating the crowd, trying not to be touched and not to hit anyone with your purse.
Someone you know from school comes up to you and wants to talk. You're discussing the new headband you're wearing when you see, out of the corner of your eye, an unattended child running gleefully toward your dog. In your world, your friend no longer exists. You need to deal with the child, and if your friend is saying anything to you you're not hearing it. There are too many variables, too many balls in the air, and you've chosen to drop everything that doesn't matter and pick it up again later.
I'd seen the same thing happen to mothers with several children to wrangle, but I'd never realized it would happen to me. I didn't realize a lot of things.

Like that Poodleface talks in his sleep. It's night, I'm typing this in bed, and this is the third time I've talked him awake after he started whimpering. I really hope he catches that squirrel.