The scene in front of the Panera Bread store unfolded last Saturday in a fashion so ordinary I will, no doubt, be the only person to report on it.

Despite the decidedly cold reading on the thermometer, the day had a marvelous warmth to it if you could find a spot in the sun. So bright that one could not look straight at it, the sun was at an angle in the sky that gave the street a shiny glare. The wind was not to be found, not at this moment anyway, so winter's edge was dull and spring's promise faint but present.

The man walking the dog down the crowded sidewalk was senior in age, but spry in step and dapper in attire. The dog was a Golden Retriever, and I could tell from both the dog's coloring and his step that he, also, was up there in age.

The man and the dog walking towards the store were noteworthy only in that both appeared so happy and so purposeful. The little vignette they painted intrigued me, so I sat in my car, rather than pulling out into traffic, and simply observed.

Once they arrived in front of the store the man shortened the leash so that dog and master were side-by-side. The man then bent down towards the sidewalk and looped, or clipped the leash into something in the sidewalk that I could not see. The man then patted the dog on the head and left the dog in the appointed spot. The crowd of folks on the sidewalk was thick and the gentlemen disappeared into the crowd and then into Panera.

The dog sat. He did not bark. He did not lunge. He did not pace. The dog sat and it was his expectant manner that delighted me.

It seemed to me that the dog was not only content, it seemed he expected good.

And he got it.

One-by-one, as people passed him as they came and went for their bread and coffee, many of these strangers greeted the dog. One person would pat him on his head. Another would give him a little rub under his chin. Although I could not hear what they said, many spoke to the dog gently, kindly, while looking him straight in the eye.

Strangers they were, all these people passing by, yet they bestowed greetings and affection on this patient sentry of a dog.

The on-line encyclopedia called Wikipedia describes the Golden Retriever in the following terms: friendly, eager to please with a patient demeanor. This dog embodied those qualities but seemed to add one more - the appearance of being expectant of something pleasant, something fulfilling, something wonderful.

One woman, clearly apprehensive of the dog, tried to pass as far from him as she could. The dog hardly looked her way. Clearly no slight was felt, no need to reach out inspired. The dog just took all the good in that passed before him. It was sufficient. He left the woman and her apprehensions to be far removed from his moment there in the sun.

I did not wait for the happy reunion between the man and his dog. The call of Saturday errands was in the air and I'd drunk in enough of this happy moment. But I could picture the reunion just the same, just as the dog expected it.

Little reminders come our way in lessons simply taught. I got one last Saturday - expectancy of good - 101.