Reason No. 154 that we will never own a dog bigger than a Honda Civic:
Broken toes.
That's right. Titania, the red-bulldozer-meets-ultra-lovable-treestump canine decided that I really needed to go down the stairs faster than I chose to at roughly 6pm yesterday, so she used her snowplow-meets-ultra-lovable-cannonball skull to shove my feet out from under me. I went down three steps "on point" like a ballerina. It was rather graceful, really...except for the 17-second-long string of obscenities.
And now...my kickball season is over. Dang.
For those of you concerned about Ti's welfare, fear not. She has not, as I initially daydreamed, been crammed into the garbage disposal and had her chopped-up little bits stuffed into a Tupperware container that I then buried and peed on.
Instead, she's currently curled up on the dog bed, freshly bathed and thoroughly Milk-Boned.
If she could purr like a cat, the walls would be shaking.
My foot hurts.
Yikes! That picture is pretty gross. Thank you for sparing me the nasty bloody/bruisedness by keeping your poor broken foot wrapped up most of the time!
ReplyDelete*sigh*
Ti IS quite the bulldozer isn't she...good thing she's so darn cute!
Man. That sucks. Let's play tennis. I might be able to hang with you now that you have a broken foot.
ReplyDeleteM.E.B
Duuude...MEB... I will SO play tennis. As long as you hit it directly to me, I'm nigh-unstoppable.
ReplyDeleteIn fact, we could have some fun with that and scare other folks away from the courts. See below.
You: Rarin' to go in your rainbow-striped 1983 Adidas terrycloth jumpsuit, matching terrycloth headband, and knee socks - jumping from foot-to-foot in anticipation of the big match.
Me: Standing at the service line in hip-waders, a "Picard/Riker 2008" novelty T-shirt, a beer-sipping hardhat loaded with Gatorades, and two tennis rackets - one in each hand.
If we never hit a ball, we still win.
Lot of chuckling here in Straubies in Denmark land about the description, "the red-bulldozer-meets-ultra- lovable-treestump canine" indeed. She does have a very bad habit of pushing her nose into the back of your knees on the stairs. Very bad dog, if cute. Very sorry to hear about the toes. Love, Joe
ReplyDeleteYou got a wittle booboo. An ouchy. (insert sad baby voice here)awww...I hope this doesn't mean you can't cook for thanksgiving. Broke toes or not, I'm eating pork. Preferably NOT touched by those nasty toes. Is Julia making you sleep in the den? I would. Maybe you and Ti just need a weekend alone...to reconcile...and heal. If you believed in Jesus your toes would be all better. :)
ReplyDeleteDang, those toes are hella nasty. But that's okay, I believe in Jesus, therefore He will help me purge my mind of your feets.
ReplyDeleteI likes miss kitty. maybe if we believe in jesus together we can rid the world of your feets.
ReplyDeleteOkay, okay...I'm convinced. Stop pushing me - I'll try some Jesus.
ReplyDeleteHow do I do it?
Smoke it? Snort it? Injections?
I know! I'll make some Jesus brownies for Thanksgiving. That way, you can't even taste the Jesus, but the effect is really intense.
Holy cow: now I'm waiting for lightning to strike down me and all the dogs after that mighty dose of brownie-flavored blasphemy you were just heaping all over us.
ReplyDelete*ducks and covers*