This morning when I arrived at the Birch Street Nursing Home, some of the patients asked me if they could go outside again. They had such a good time last Saturday, and today wanted to go for a longer walk. I thought it was a great idea and suggested packing a lunch. So they packed up their medicine and some juice to wash it down, and soon we were on our way. I took Sniffles The Eighth with us. Even though he turned out not to be such a good seeing eye dog for Mr. Pearlman, most of the other patients like having him around. We weren't out nearly as long as I had expected because Mrs. Patterson suddenly started screaming. When I calmed her enough that she could talk, she said that with all of us gone except Mr. Pearlman, there was just a blind man guarding the Birch Street Nursing Home. She started pulling on my arm and said that Mrs. Shimshack has been waiting for a moment like this to sneak in and steal everyone's remaining possessions. I reminded her that Mrs. Shimshack has been dead for many years, but Mrs. Patterson refused to listen. So we went back to the Birch Street Nursing Home, where everything was fine, except Mr. Pearlman, who had taken another tumble down the stairs.
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