The Duke Dance

It's what we do, me and him. He doesn't like me much. It's understood. Oh, he'll be nice and all when I give him the chance, which is fine. Works the same in reverse. But we often perform The Duke Dance. Hard to describe so I'll just equate it to a Flamenco. Sorta. Minus the sensuality. See below.

"Latin dance is a fast-paced, often sensual, partner dance characterized by sexy hip movements. However, hip movements are not intentional in any of the Latin dances. The hip motion is a natural consequence of changing weight from one foot to the other."

Essentially we're squaring off. Nobody ever wins, It's wasted movement while we jockey for a position of superiority, neither of us really knowing what that means. The Duke Dance. I come, he goes. It occurred to me that maybe I am approaching this all wrong. Maybe I just need to piss on the floor and mark my territory.

The SOB bit me

and HARD, dammit! 20 minutes ago and it still throbs. An I love you, I hate you moment? Not when he bit me. Martine and Zoe and I were in the bedroom. Martine was raising her leg all the way up and placing it on my back. It might sound odd but not after you hear why. It was because my back was apparently far warmer than her foot, thus making my back a 'substituer pieds plus chauds'. Well this had me wincing & laughing creating quite a little stir in the bedroom. Zoe got in on the action first than Rachel came to join us and find out what the laughing and noise was all about. Well no place do we all gather where Duke does not so of course he was underfoot. Underfoot and unbeknown to us becoming quite disturbed by the racket. Rachel stuck her foot on my back and WHAMMO! He jumped and bit the back of my right thigh. I yelped pretty good and went to grab him as he now ran around hiding behind the ladies. See, that's what he does. Bites and runs. Remember, I told you he isn't THAT dumb. I gave him a good whack on the nose for his troubles (when I caught him) and he took off for his cage, sequestering himself. M went to go check on him moments later and he was apparently shaking like a leaf in a harsh wind. I came over and he ducked and dodged my glance. I dared stick my hand back in front of his mouth and he licked it tentatively. I guess I forgive him again but damn, it hurts.

....Duke Is The Dog

....and Duke is the dog. It's how I've overheard many conversations begin when Martine (hereafter simply known as 'wife') introduces our family. Perhaps we're out meeting somebody new or somebody is visiting our home. It's always the same. "This is (daughter#1) and this is (daughter#2) and this is my husband, Brian and this....is Duke. He's a little crazy but he won't hurt you." she says, smiling. She has to say that as Duke has likely scared the daylights out of whomever dare come within 100 feet of our home. He's unleashed a doggie tirade that's maniacal enough to weaken the knees of even the most feared contractors. Or the meter reader. I had the utility man once insist I put him away for the duration of the visit. "Uhh, your going to lock him up right? I don't want to get bit". Not bitten mind you, bit. So with all due respect to his wishes and improper grammer I locked up the dog. It struck me at that moment that perhaps there was more than met the eye with Duke. Josie, our much older, wiser and gentler dog never even made me blink twice. Duke had already cost me a broken finger. More on that later. This blog won't be all or only about Duke, but he may indeed garner more than his share of attention as I have to admit....I'm beginning to really like this wild beast.