Psycho

“Dad?” On the steps of the Opera House, Mary Corleone’s last word to Michael.

- Godfather III

A guy I worked with named Jeff, who had attended West Point, told me to steer clear of a particular reporter in the office. He diagnosed her with gum disease. He believed one person with gum disease could contaminate an entire office. He said that if we got too close, the bacteria from her mouth would jump into ours. If we weren’t careful, the whole city of Wyandotte, where we worked, could go down to gingivitis within months.

 I said I could see this happening if I kissed her, but was it necessary to avoid her like the plague. Yes, he said, it was necessary.

            It’s the same with fear. Worry Germs can creep from one individual to another. If you act like you are scared of birds, your fear may fly into your child’s brain. He may develop an irrational fear of, say, the rooster Foghorn Leghorn.

            It’s the same with me and Vito, and even Sergei, our dog before him.

My fear is that some day I will suffer a spurt of vertigo and tip headfirst down the basement stairs. Brian will come home from work and find me unconscious at the bottom.

There is an indefinable, creepy quality to these steps. It’s lighted; still, the staircase seems haunted.

Both dogs have picked up on my fear.

 Vito follows me all over the house, but he balks every time I pass the basement stairs.  Sergei did the same thing. It’s as if they think Alfred Hitchcock’s hand will reach up and pull them into the Bates Motel.

This week, something happened that defied odds. Just after his walk outside, Vito and I entered the laundry room. He didn’t want to come in yet, but I did, so I dragged him inside behind me. After I passed the basement steps, I noticed an odd pull on the leash. I turned, and there was no Vito. He had slipped down the stairs! His paws dug into the carpet as he held on for dear life. I fell to my knees and pulled him up to safety.

This brings me to something else that scares Vito. Just prior to falling down the steps, while we were on our walk, the storm sewer in the street made a big sucking noise. Vito jumped away from it. He looked back a couple times as we continued to walk. It’s as if he thought a monster dwelled inside, and it wanted to swallow him whole.

Vito was ridiculous to think that a monster hid in the sewer. It actually waited behind the scenes until we went on our walk, and then it hid on our basement steps. It was bald, directed films, and had a droll English accent -- and its gums were swollen and bloody.

The monster waited patiently for the darling puppy to pass …  and then it grabbed him!