The next-door neighbors have two weimaraners, which are often out late in a dog run in their backyard. The dog run goes right up to the edge of our driveway, along the property line. When I walk Minnie before bedtime, the weimaraners are often in the yard, and there is much barking and excitement and lunging.
Last night I was walking Minnie and the dogs were at it. I remember Minnie lunged on the leash. I remember the driveway coming up and punching me in the face. That was not very nice of the driveway. I never did the driveway any harm.
Then I’m lying face down on the pavement.
Fortunately, nothing broke. Not my glasses, which were not riven into shards which plunged into my eyes. Not my back, which is what happened when Julie took a similar spill three years ago. Not my Pebble smartwatch or iPhone, which are far less important than eyes and a back but which would have been expensive to replace.
I’m not sure what I was doing when I fell. I remember I did not have a proper grip on the leash. I wasn’t doing something with my iPhone; it was in my pocket. I think I was setting the timer on the Pebble watch. I do that every night to be sure I walk Minnie for at least 20 minutes.
I got to my feet and retrieved the end of Minnie’s leash, before she could run away. She had no idea anything was odd, parked at the side of the dog run, barking vociferously.
Minnie was fine through all this. Indeed, she was completely unaware anything was wrong or unusual — happy, tail wagging, barking away at the weimeraners. You hear about dogs whose masters fall down and have a heart attack and the dog escapes from the house and summons the neighbors for help. Minnie is not that dog. Minnie is clueless.
I swore quite a bit, and loudly. I was very creative.
I went back inside to take inventory. “Look at what YOUR DOG did,” I told Julie.
I went back out. The weimeraners were nowhere to be seen or heard. I suspect the neighbors may have heard my editorializing. They’re very nice neighbors and the whole thing is really not their fault. They go to church regularly. I took the name of the Lord our God in vain when I was commenting on the incident. Additionally, I took the name of THEIR Lord their God in vain. I’m Jewish, but yelling the name of the Christian savior is so much more satisfying when in distress than any language we Jews have generated. Especially when you use His full name. His middle name starts with F.
I finished walking Minnie without further mishap, other than my frequently giving her dirty looks. That’ll show her.
When I got back to the house I took a look at my face. All I have to show for the accident is a small ding on the bridge of my nose. I had really hoped to have some properly ghastly wounds to show for my mishap but nope. I did scrape up both of my knees but that’s hardly the same as some nice facial wounds.
My knees were scraped up. Getting scraped knees as an adult feels foolish. What am I eight years old?
Julie ministered me with some care, wrapping my knees in bandages, and doing so without adhesive, which would be painfully getting off of my copiously hairy legs. The bandages came halfway off in my sleep, I tore the rest off in the morning. Sorry, Julie! Thanks anyway for the ministrations!
And how is your first week of unofficial autumn going?