Walking the dog

Today I was eating lunch with some friends on the patio in front of the Panera at the Green Hills Mall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving across the ground and then I saw someone walking along, seemingly behind whatever object I had just seen moving. My first thought (my first thought!) was, "Is that man walking one of those 'invisible dogs'?" and I craned my neck to see.

Note: I haven't actually seen one of those stiff leashes that are supposed to be "invisible dogs" since I was about 13 years old.

Why would I think that a grown man would suddenly be walking around with one now, here (far from the seaside boardwalks where invisible dogs are bred), at the Green Hills Mall? The idea that I thought someone had an invisible dog suddenly seemed more ridiculous to me than if he had actually been walking an invisible dog. Whose mind jumps to invisible dog before real dog, bird, napkin (which is what I really saw), strangely-visible wind, or even hole in the fabric of time?

But it had been a surreal day at the Panera even before this happened. Just moments before, a 60 year old man wearing bright green shorts, a bright pink shirt, and matching pink crocs had strode past our table. I was so distracted by his loudly-hued outfit that I did not even notice if he was walking an invisible dog. And maybe that was his clever strategy.