Maybe even a World’s Record or close to it. There should be cake to celebrate or at least wine. I started thinking back to our move out here. The dogs and I got here in August of 2015 and lived in the apartment until we bought our house and moved in the middle of March. The house is a two story with the bedrooms and wet bar on the second floor. That means at the very least I would go up and down those stairs a minimum of six times a day. One time down to feed Orso and take him for a walk, back up the stairs to shower then down again to go about my day. One time up to get a bottle of wine and down to open and drink the wine, one last time up to go to bed. I go up and down many more times than that each day, but you get the point.
Take that minimum number and multiply it by the three and a half months we’ve been in the house, that totals to over six hundred times up and down the stairs. And I haven’t fallen up or down the stairs once. That’s gotta be a record. If that doesn’t sound so awesome, then look at my history. I’ve fallen down the stairs to the old house and hit the side of the house at the bottom. I’ve fallen up the basement stairs and took the skin off my shins at the old house. I’ve fallen off the side of the road walking the dogs. I fell over a giant boulder in the middle of the road one morning walking the dogs. I got tangled up in a four-foot step ladder and fell down a hill. I have a knack for falling, either up or down, I’m an equal opportunity faller.
Come to think of it, most of my falls were at the old house. Maybe it was the house. Maybe the house had it in for me. Maybe I’m not that clumsy after all, maybe I was attacked by the old house. Well I got the last laugh, I’m not there anymore. So take that house!
In the ten months we’ve been here, I’ve only fallen twice, once at the hands of the dogs dragging me across a sidewalk to meet a new dog and once hiking when I tripped and fell over a downed tree. All in all I’ve done pretty well out here and haven’t had to go to the emergency room once, which is a good thing since I don’t know where the hospital is.
A woman's view of hunting...with men 
Perhaps, like many who take their time to learn some lessons, though it does take time, you learn it well….
Or, maybe Murphy’s on a vacation, & will make up for it when he’s back….
Come to think of it, some body armor might be a good idea…. or, one of those bubbles…
*grin*
gigoid
Oh I’m pretty sure is just on vacation. He’ll show up sooner or later and with a vengeance.
Consider giving the dog who dragged you around a bit of forgiving. Particularly if the new dog was an attractive.member of the opposite sex.
Yes I forgave him, he was quite contrite
You don’t know where the hospital is? Do you think that is wise? Hehehe!
I am definitely living on the edge. But I shouldn’t court disaster much longer. I will have to look for the hospital because we both know I’ll need it sooner or later. 🙂
You have it worse than I do – I usually just end up bruised. Oh, and my shins feel like a washboard with all the dents in them! One really deep one is, of course, dog related 🙂
Isn’t it always dog related?
No, just the worst one 🙂 I have cats, too, so the dance of not-stepping-on-a-cat is rarely successful!
That’s one of my biggest fears, that’s why I have large dogs, if I had small dogs or cats, I am afraid of tripping over them and hurting them as much as myself. I know that with Orso, the likelihood of me hurting him is pretty slim.
Cats are supposed to be graceful…it’s a lie.