What is your favourite form of physical exercise?
I love walking. However, TW8 is a very doggy neighbourhood, and dog people love walking, too.
It’s not the dogs that are the problem but, rather, what I might step into whilst walking. I remain traumatised by that time I saw Cat Daddy step on one dog turd with one foot, then put his other foot straight into another. Had that happened to me, I would have had to amputate both feet, no question. So, when I walk, I keep my eyes firmly down. And, if anyone is walking with me, I tell them not to speak to me and to concentrate on keeping their eyes down, too.
Walking through through the park opposite Le Château, I often notice that all the dogs are the same type. This happens a startling number of times. Last month there was some sort of detention or boot camp, led by an instructor, and all the dogs were sausage dogs. Are those sessions breed-specific? Or were sausage dogs going through a rebellious phase at that time, and their humans happened to decide simultaneously that they weren’t going to put up with their stupid shit any longer?
The following week, the dogs were bulldog types, somewhere in between those small French ones with the sad faces and the massive, scary ones which have just been banned. When I walked past with Louis Catorze in his transportation pod, on my way to see the vet, all the dogs looked my way and started barking at once. (This also happens a startling number of times.)
Yesterday, however, I knew that I would be met by every single dog breed in creation, because Puppy Mamma took me to a dogs’ Hallowe’en fancy dress parade in the park. Now, usually, if I knew that hundreds of dogs were going to be in one place, I would make every effort to be in a different place. However, because of the dress code, just this once, I decided to risk a walk through the valley of the shadow of death.
The rain affected the turnout quite drastically, which probably worked in my favour, since more dogs means more shit. But I loved the Basset hound dressed as Georgie from IT with a yellow mac and red balloon (which he lost), and the pug in the silver astronaut suit. And I was able to capture Nala the dog and Gizzy the [insert name of species] in their seasonal finery:
Despite being scarred by hearing Puppy Mamma utter the words, “Is that Nala’s shit down there? Oh wait … yes, it is, it’s warm”, I survived. And I learned that trying to persuade dogs to pose for a photo is as infuriating as trying to persuade cats:
Is it too much to dream of cat-walking becoming a thing? Catorze is ready and is already dressed for the Hallowe’en cat parade.
louiscatorze.com 
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