Metropolitan Diary - Celebrity Weimaraner and Other Reader Tales - NYTimes.com You really never know when you are going to spot a celebrity in Manhattan. Scene: Veterinary office on West 79th Street. Older man with a Weimaraner enters the waiting room to pay his bill. Chatty blond woman from the Upper East Side notes that the silvery gray dog is big for his breed and recalls a friend's Weimaraner who cadged food from shops. The man says the tall dog, Rufus, had spent time on movie sets, and was known for begging at the craft service food tables. He was gaining weight, so he had to wear a sign saying, "Do Not Feed Me." Rufus's owner finally reveals that the dog had a role in the movie "Maid in Manhattan," with Ralph Fiennes, whose dog he played, and Jennifer Lopez. He is listed on the Internet Movie Database. He seems a friendly animal, but for several takes he would not go to Ms. Lopez as required. Finally, a piece of meat was placed on the actress's tummy, and Rufus did his bit. Then a vet tech brings out eye drops for Rufus, and his owner admits the dog is 12 years old and no longer performs. Exit the retired actor. "Look out for paparazzi," the woman cautions. Jeannie Williams Back in the mid-"80s, I stage-managed several of the Broadway benefits and tributes directed by Donald Saddler. One of my favorite moments took place during "Our Hearts Belong to Mary," a 1985 tribute to the legendary Mary Martin. The Baroness Maria von Trapp, by then a very frail old lady, was standing in the wings waiting to be escorted onstage by Robert Preston. As her name was announced, she happened to look down and saw that then-Mayor Edward I. Koch was standing on the hem of her gown. Letting go of Mr. Preston's arm, she quietly placed both her hands on the mayor's shoulders and gave him a shove that sent him staggering halfway to the back wall. She then retook Mr. Preston's arm and marched proudly onto the stage, somehow seeming to drop a good 30 years or so as she did. I still couldn't tell you which was louder - the applause and cheers from the audience or the applause and laughter from the backstage crew. Peter Jablonski My husband, Tom, and I traveled into the city from Bergen County in January to celebrate the Three Kings holiday at the Museo del Barrio. Afterward, we boarded the M3 bus downtown, and as traffic stopped our progress at the Metropolitan Museum, a food cart owner knocked on the door and offered the driver a can of soda. He said, gaily, thanks but no. The cart owner, not taking no for an answer, insisted. And so the gift was taken. "Wait, wait," the cart guy said. Take a hot dog as well. You look hungry. Hot dog came through the door and thanks given in exchange (not unlike the kings" offering their gifts to the baby Jesus), and the progress of the bus continued, not even incurring an angry blast from an impatient driver behind us. It was all very exhilarating for us. Katherine Flattery On a No. 6 subway train going downtown, on the loudspeaker, a voice begins a familiar greeting: "Ladies and gentlemen. ..." Sleepily I start reciting to myself the familiar request: "If you see something suspicious...." But the request is one I have not heard before: "If you see a pregnant person, won't you please offer this person your seat." Helen Tzagoloff It is a clear, windless, bitterly cold January morning. Because we were traveling all the previous day, my husband and I are lying in bed around 9 a.m. on a high floor, overlooking the East River, with the shades up so that we can enjoy the view. We hear voices, and gradually two men on a window cleaner's scaffold come into view. They are bundled up against the cold. As they pass our window, we hear that they are discussing the strength of the euro versus the dollar. Sally Begley