The day was lovely: blue skies, a gentle breeze, three sweet dogs at my side. We were on our little walk around the village, a chance for the pups to read all the pee-mail that their mortal enemies had left behind since our last loop around the neighborhood. It had been 24 hours, so there was a lot of reading for them to do. And a lot of opinionated replies to leave.
Our walk was more of a stroll, slow with all the stops and starts. All the pups are boys and each has his own liquid opinions to share, including replying to each other's replies on the same rocks, sticks and trees in our path.
We were not breaking any land speed records, nor trying to.
I have one goal of late, and it is to stay vertical while walking. Sounds simple enough. But as you know, I have become vertically challenged.
We strolled along a little path at the entrance to the park. The boys began to sniff the grass, bathing their senses in aromas, and calming their nervous systems by the act of sniffing. Sniffaris release feel-good chemicals in dog brains. It is heavenly for them.
They’d each bent their heads toward the grass, confident, or maybe just hopeful (dogs are the ultimate optimists, after all), that I could keep myself upright while they enjoyed themselves.
I wanted that for them.
It wasn’t to be. Without notice or anything noticeable starting the unfortunate chain of events, my feet connected, planted in place, while my entire body fell forward. Again.
As the slo-mo path rose up to meet me, I softened my body for the impact. At least I know I am still capable of learning and adapting. The former falls were not a complete waste. I instinctively pulled my head back to keep it from bouncing off the ground. That was a newly minted instinct.
Hey! I’m getting good at this!
I distinctly remember rolling my eyes on the way down. Seriously?! Again?!
The very-good-boys noticed me heading their way and stepped aside to avoid being epically squished. Smart pups! And rushed to check on me once I’d landed.
This time, I was in the HOA, but I was not in the street; a big checkmark in the plus column. I had a good chance of not being run over by a reckless, speeding neighbor. Not 100% guarantee, but a chance.
The dogs were safe. I was safe. I wasn’t as injured as in the previous two falls. Check. Check. Check. The plus column was looking good.
I praised the pups for being such good boys, Ripple helped me to stand and stabilize myself, and we finished their sniffari.
“How was your walk?” my hubby asked.
I rolled my eyes again as I told him the update.
I’m pretty sure the dogs rolled their eyes too, as if to say, “We can’t take her anywhere.”
The FALLS TRILOGY taught me to learn, adapt, take extra care, trust the pups, explore healing modalities to address the root cause, do the physical therapy, get back out there to do what I love, and always look for the positive. Even from a horizontal position on the pavement.
What meaningful lessons have you learned from unexpected events?
Let’s chat about it in the comments. Thank you for reading!
Thanks for the share. My dog feels the same about taking me anywhere 😅 I had to train my pup to not linger near my feet and not cross my path after the spinal surgeries. And I too had to learn to fall properly. Who knew there was such a thing?!! Far too many, I imagine. Great sense of humour to carry you. Stay safe, write on!
I loved this except for the fall. But I have to say you are remarkable. Your attitude, and the way you have learned to fall is amazing. I assume the dogs can get help if you need it.
My kids have explained how important sniffing is to dogs. It’s quite important for them. I think the walks must be important for you too. There’s something about moving our bodies for as long as we can that is good for our brains too. Thank you for sharing this.
I love your writing and am making my way through your book.