Steve and the Case of the Mistaken Identity

My wife and I take our two dogs, Abby and Steve, on walks out by our house. We live at the edge of a neighborhood but there are a bunch of finished roads that go out beyond our house, where no homes have been built yet. I like it because the dogs can just roam around without leashes out there and smell all of the smells. I think they get more wild scents out there away from the houses. This empty neighborhood ends with a cul-de-sac, or circle, or whatever you call it.

Abby and Steve are two very different dogs. Abby is ten and has cataracts and arthritis. She is still really healthy and spry but if we don't take her for walks she just lays around all day. Steve is the exact opposite. We take him for walks to keep him from driving us crazy with his constant pacing and his loud clickety-clacking across the floor on his weirdly long toe-nails (they're super hard to keep trimmed...)

So, we went for a walk a few nights ago and as we rounded this gradual curve to the end of this uninhabited cul-de-sac, we saw a man and a woman having, what appeared to be, a very serious talk. Now, we came up on these people from a long way away and, of course, Stevie charged them.

Let me switch perspectives here for just one second so you can understand the thought process behind the most comically dirty look I have ever been given. Imagine that you are this guy and you are sitting at the end of what you believe is the most isolated cul-de-sac in America having some kind of serious talk with your girlfriend and you see a Bassett Hound in full gallop heading right at you. Then comes a guy waving a sandwich bag yelling, “Does Stevie want a treat? Does Stevie want a treat?” with a big Yellow Lab prancing at his side. Then you hear “Abby does! Abby does!” (Steph always takes care of her girl.)

Stevie ran up and gave their crotches some good sniffs. Then he did this snorting thing that isn't quite a sneeze but is still super gross on both of them. Then, he tried to steal food out of their backpacks. All of this has sucked monumentally for me until now. Luckily, I recognized the guy as my friend Josh. (This has happened before to me. I think anyone I see with a pony tail and sideburns is my friend Josh.) Anyway, I confidently stride all the way up to this couple. I bet I got to within 30 feet of them before I realized that this man was not my friend and the look that he was giving me couldn't have been cartooned onto Donald Duck with more accuracy, because he was so bugged. Whatever he had going was pretty much ruined by us. Stephanie hung back a ways because she knows Josh too, and could see that it wasn't him at all.

I felt an explanation was in order. I said, “Sorry, about Steve. He loves to smell stuff. Have you guys been hiking? I thought that you were my friend Josh. His parents live over there. But, you're not Josh so... anywho... Bye.”

Here's the thing about mistaking a stranger for someone that you know. The walk away from that person, once both of you have established and agreed upon the fact that you are a moron, is murder; but, when the walk away is along an empty road, it is worse.