Cats
When I was a kid, I had a dog who'd try to run across the street towards shopping bags blowing in the wind. We figured he thought they were cats.
This morning had the kind of chill in it I've grown to expect from a San Francisco summer, so as I wandered to the shop to get a carton of soy milk, I had my tote bag cupped in my hands. A homeless guy, completely out of it, wanted to know what it was. I showed him: a shopping bag. He said he thought it was a cat.
Maybe if my dog hadn't been so hellbent on harassing cats, he wouldn't have reincarnated as a crazy homeless person.