Saved by the Dogs

Moving to a new location means that one has to endure weeks of constant name/face recognition exercises. I don't really mind it. And I'm relatively good at it. (Relative to the majority of the population.) But today as I got home from work I ran into one of my neighbors in my apartment complex. I could remember her dogs' names but I could not remember hers! Krista? Kristina? Kristen? I have no idea. But for some reason I could remember that her little brown chihuahua was Hollywood and her big black Saint Bernard was RockStar. The worst part? She remembered mine! The best part? I think she didn't notice that I didn't know her name since I called out to her dogs. I guess you could say I was saved by the dogs.