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.