I decided to take the easy way out - or so I thought. The sheer rock face at the Kangaroo Point cliffs was swarming with rock climbers and abseilers this afternoon. That's the hard way. I took the stairs. Even those without harnesses seemed to be on a mission - sprinting or pedalling like there was no tomorrow. Not me. I was easing into the weekend taking a fairly leisurely walk with fur friends Rumple and The Fed - or so I thought.
We walked for about an hour, stopping to take a few photos (me) and to smell a few dogs' bottoms (The Fed) and to have a drink of water (Rumple). We weren't in any particular hurry. And then we were back at the stairs where our journey began and almost home - or so I thought. The Fed thought otherwise. He dug his heels in and simply refused to go anywhere near the steps. He pulled away with such force and determination he pulled his collar off. It was abundantly clear he was for some reason terrified of the open, steep wooden stairs and was not, I repeat NOT, going to walk up them. So the car is at the top of the cliff and I am at the bottom with two dogs on one double lead. Naturally it was not the smaller cuddlier dog with the stair issue. It was the much bigger, heavier hound who really hates being carried. But with no other options on offer I picked up the 10 kilos of dead weight and carried him up the stairs, still juggling the other dog. Any occupational health and safety expert within miles would have been having a coronary. I was wearing thongs, for one and that's not how you carry a weight up stairs. But desperate times call for desperate measures and if the OH&S experts had a problem they were welcome to come and lend me a hand. Back on top, a phone call established that Fed had started to show strange aversions to stairs. Now you tell me. Next time, I'm going to insist on a rope and a harness.