So a week ago Thursday evening I was outside enjoying slightly milder temperatures, and since it was the latter part of March the following thought ran through my head: "It looks like I made it through another winter without serious mishap."
Let me say that I'm scared of falling and I'm SUPER careful when the ground is snowy or icy. I walk like an old man and take my good old time. I expend serious brainpower focusing on exactly where to step and on maintaining my balance. I've been lucky for a couple of years. So when we hit what felt like the turning point I congratulated myself. Prematurely, it turns out.
The next morning as we were getting ready to drive to Toronto to celebrate my daughter's engagement, I put my two dogs on leashes and headed out the door to put them in the kennel. Now, had I been paying attention I would have noticed the tiniest layer of ice on the porch. My foot hit the ice, I tried to catch my balance, and because 130 pounds of dogs were simultaneously trying to yank me off the porch, my thigh muscle was asked to do more than it could and it tore, probably in a few places if you go by the numerous giant bruises up and down my leg.
So now my leg can bear almost no weight and I have to crutch around the house. The doctor says it will be a couple of more weeks until I'm significantly better. I've been lucky to have tremendous coverage by my stalwart staff, and if you visit sometime in the next couple of weeks you are likely to see a new face or two who are filling in. I may be there too, sitting on the bench as a greeter and maybe hobbling over to the computer to help you check in or out. But I'm not going to let any dogs drag me around for a while.
Next year I will not trust winter to be gone until the middle of July. And, my dogs go out one at a time from now on. One at a time.
Thanks for reading--John
