he thinks you're someone else...

I am on the way to work, walking down Clarendon towards Tremont Street. There is the cutest little dog up about half a blog ahead of me, some terrier-looking little guy of indeterminate breed. Aw...I think.

He is pulling on his leash, trying to get his owner to go one way, while she tries to get him to go another. Then, suddenly he stops. He's looking at me intently as I approach, and soon starts scampering my way, pulling on his leash in my direction.

"Hey little guy," I say as I pass by. He is looking up at me with such hopeful, happy eyes I stop to say hello.

"He thinks you're somebody else," his owner says. "I mean, you're you, of course," she says quickly, apologetically, embarrassed that what she's just said sounded rude, "He just thinks you're somebody he knows, that's all."

I laugh and tell her he's awfully cute, then set off on my way back to work.

I wonder who he mistook me for? Some other tallish blonde lady with light eyes and short hair? Can dogs even recognize features like that? I thought they went by smell?

It was a case of mistaken identity.