Killing Curt

I do this thing when I take Duncan outside. Neither of us particularly like it when I put his leash on so I drape it behind neck and over my shoulders, a bit like a very long untied tie. It hangs across my chest and down to my waist. Sometimes jogging down the stairs behind Roo the ends bounce so I tuck the clasp through the handle to keep it all together so it doesn't slip off and trip either of us up. A bit like a very loose noose.

Duncan also has this thing he does when I take him outside. Often, before I've had time to slip the leash around my neck he'll grab the end in his mouth and carry it as he leads me down the thirty-seven steps and outside. A bit like taking his papa for a walk.

It was an early morning. Olive woke me up a little after five with the hitching, gear-stripped sound of her retching at the foot of the bed, then again in the hall and once more out in the living room. I pulled myself out of bed, donned some shorts, a t-shirt and some socks and went to her. She'd already recovered enough to find her food dish and scarf the last of her leftover dinner. While she seemed to be doing fine, the carpet was not so I quickly sprayed it with cleaner and covered the spots with paper towel in case Duncan ambled out of his bed and down the hall and mistook her leavings for a pre-breakfast snack (he eats a strictly raw diet so I can see where cat puke might confuse him). Just as I finished he appeared, bleary-eyed and with a tousled mohawk adorning his head. He bowed and stretched and looked at me as if to ask if it was too early to be taken out. I turned the kettle on, scritched behind his ears, slipped into my shoes and grabbed the leash. I secured it around my neck and bent to tie the laces of my shoes and just as I opened the door Duncan grabbed the handled end of the leash, thus tightening it like a noose, and dragged me out the door, into the breezeway and down the stairs.

I choked and sputtered, laughed and didn't know if I should attempt to save my life or grab my camera to preserve the moment. Needless to say, I grabbed the camera but only managed a shaky, blurred shot of my calf and arm as I was whisked down the stairs, Duncan's tail merrily swishing against my face and into my laughing mouth, causing me to choke even more.

Luckily I've trained him to stop at the foot of the stairs before heading into the parking lot. He always gets a treat and this morning was no different. He came to a dutiful halt, dropped the leash and waited for his purple, panting papa to fetch a coconut cruncher from his pocket.

Good boy.