I was out running with the dog today. It was nice.
We were loping along, not really pushing it; sort of trotting, really. The sun was finally shining again, and the air was just the right temperature; not too warm, not too cold.
I was feeling pretty good. Not running to work out, just running to save time. The dog's gotta cover a certain amount of ground in a day, or he gets neurotic. If I run, this takes less time.
He was behaving very well, running roughly at "heel". A Fed Ex driver came out from a house and smiled broadly at him as she got into her truck to make notes on her little clipboard.
Half a block later, it happened. My toe caught on a raised bit of side-walk, and I tripped.
My Kung-fu reflexes fired, and I thought that - just for a moment there, mind you - I thought that I had avoided a fall.
Unfortunately, my high-strung puppy-dog had much less faith in my alacrity. He startled, then he jumped. Then he dashed forward and side-ways all at the same time with his tail between his legs, and he didn't stop until he had hit the end of the leash with a *snap*.
I was done for; fell to the ground like a fifty pound bag of rice.
The Fed Ex lady was staring at me, yelling "You all right?"
Some twiggy little trophy wives out for a stroll were giggling. The dog looked like he expected the world to cave in on him, and I tried to jump to my feet with as much dignity as I could muster. My knee was scraped and bloody, but that was it. I tried to be as cool as possible as I walked away...
...until the Fed Ex lady pulled up, beeped the horn, and yelled "Your cell phone and your keys are laying on the sidewalk back there!"
Doh! Self-respect elimination, complete...your work here is done, Murphy.