So we're out on the morning walky, and the boys and I are checking out this deep gully on the other side of the wash. No good reason, it's just there. I'm down in the rocks, and both boys are up on the ridge above. Little Bear is hanging out on the edge, maybe fifteen feet above, watching Uncle Joel. Little do I suspect the malice in his heart.
I turn my back on the ridge, to concentrate on working my way down the rocks. Big mistake. I hear:
...Clatter...
...Clatter...
...Silence...
Followed by:
...BLINDING PAIN...
...as a rock the size of my head collides violently with the heel of my right foot.
Thought I was going to throw up for a second. Surely that sonuvabitch just broke my foot.
No? No, I can still walk on it. Well, then, I'll bet my boot is filling with blood.
No? No, I waited till I got home to find out, but there was nothing but a bruise. Glad I wasn't wearing sandals, though. Sucker hurt for the rest of the day. Better this morning.
Not much point in getting mad at the puppy, so I'll just be pissed with my own lack of situational awareness. Grumble - Stupid lack of situational awareness.
What's Donald Trump's carry piece?
3 hours ago
3 comments:
It is the pits when you have to beware of your own dog. My 17 year old mutt managed to knock me down in the doorway the other day when I was coming in from doing errands. I had bags of groceries in my hands when he bashed into my knees in his delight to see me.
Since I'm an old lady... I went down with a bang because my feet slipped on the door sill. Perfect three point landing... two knees and one hand in a dozen eggs.
I hate when that happens...
And then, he was still so glad to see me he wouldn't let me get up!!! Sure glad he's not a puppy anymore. LOL
Puppies, can't live with them, don't need to swim with out'em. ;)
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