A man and his dogs pass us going the other way - two poodles, one brown, one black, the brown one shy and tentative, head down, stepping carefully and peering around with each step.
Afterwards, much further up the block, Katie and I stop to admire the blooming magnolias in front of a stately old brownstone until Katie punches me in the arm.
I turn to follow her gaze, and there, coming up from the same direction we’re headed, are the same dogs with the same man, same tentative brown one, none of them acknowledging that we just saw them walking away from us a good five minutes ago.
“I would like to know what route got them here,” Katie says, watching them as they pass us again.
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