the sneeze

Buster and I walked down to the corner this morning, as usual, but it being Friday I trailed the garbage can behind me, setting it firmly next to the neighbor's can, then minced across the road to the hitching-post line of mailboxes to leave a letter for pick up. I pulled open my box's lid, popped in the letter, closed the lid with a snap, flipped up the little red flag. I turned and minced my way back across the road, headed up my road, both dirt roads covered in ice. The thermometer read 42 degrees, but we've had a bit of snow lately and on the back roads that now means slippery going and later, slush.

Heading home Buster was a bit in front on me and suddenly he sneezed, causing his right hind leg to skitter away from him on the ice. I gave a snort, a laugh, and my right foot skittered away from me on the ice. Buster regained his pace without a fall, and so did I. It was barely perceptible, this soft slapstick routine, this sneeze, slip, snort, slide. Just a little fun, down to the corner and back.