I am seriously traumatized. This morning I lazily rolled over in my bed, awoken by the sounds of the kids getting ready for school. There were all the usual sounds, doors opening and closing, the fridge door opening, the microwave running, etc. I flopped over like a beached whale onto my stomach and slowly drifted back into unconsciousness, pleasantly pleased in knowing that I had yet another hour to sleep.
It wasn't thirty seconds later that I heard an enormous crash, followed by a nearly screaming puppy, and highly concerned voices. I went from corpse to Kenyan runner in two seconds flat. I ran down stairs only to find that my new puppy, Regine, had fallen off the stairs. She did not simply tumble down the steps, rather, she slipped through the rails from the second story, hit two shelves that were on the wall, and plummeted to the floor. Regine was yelping and crying in my Mom's hands. There was shouting and confusion, shelves and picture frames were everywhere. I still didn't really understand what was going on, all I knew was that the puppy was not going to calm down with a room filled with yelling people. I snatched the puppy and took her into the dimly lit outside where it was quiet and peaceful. The whimpering subsided and she began to walk around like her ol' self. I couldn't believe that she was unscathed, it truly was a miracle a definite act of God.
Fingers were pointed at who was to blame but all I could point at was God. Not that he caused this, but that he saved her. Needless to say, I spent a good ten minutes crying after everyone rushed off to either work, school, or a meeting. I cried because of the frailty of life, the thought of losing my baby girl, and how broken my family seemed to be. Now, this story goes more into intimate family details that I don't believe are appropriate to discuss here, I thought that I would mention this just to clear my name as a drama queen. Still in my pajamas, sleep heavy in my eyes, hair akin to a mohawk, I slumped into the plump cushions of the couch. In between my sobs from my sorry self I looked up to see both of my dogs, staring at me with concern on their innocent faces. They saw that I had fallen too, not from the top of the stairs, but from my usual high spirits. They knew that I needed someone to pick me up, someone to cradle me and reassure me that things are going to be ok. My girls were there to pick me up and they did. That, my friends, is the power of a dog.
It wasn't thirty seconds later that I heard an enormous crash, followed by a nearly screaming puppy, and highly concerned voices. I went from corpse to Kenyan runner in two seconds flat. I ran down stairs only to find that my new puppy, Regine, had fallen off the stairs. She did not simply tumble down the steps, rather, she slipped through the rails from the second story, hit two shelves that were on the wall, and plummeted to the floor. Regine was yelping and crying in my Mom's hands. There was shouting and confusion, shelves and picture frames were everywhere. I still didn't really understand what was going on, all I knew was that the puppy was not going to calm down with a room filled with yelling people. I snatched the puppy and took her into the dimly lit outside where it was quiet and peaceful. The whimpering subsided and she began to walk around like her ol' self. I couldn't believe that she was unscathed, it truly was a miracle a definite act of God.
Fingers were pointed at who was to blame but all I could point at was God. Not that he caused this, but that he saved her. Needless to say, I spent a good ten minutes crying after everyone rushed off to either work, school, or a meeting. I cried because of the frailty of life, the thought of losing my baby girl, and how broken my family seemed to be. Now, this story goes more into intimate family details that I don't believe are appropriate to discuss here, I thought that I would mention this just to clear my name as a drama queen. Still in my pajamas, sleep heavy in my eyes, hair akin to a mohawk, I slumped into the plump cushions of the couch. In between my sobs from my sorry self I looked up to see both of my dogs, staring at me with concern on their innocent faces. They saw that I had fallen too, not from the top of the stairs, but from my usual high spirits. They knew that I needed someone to pick me up, someone to cradle me and reassure me that things are going to be ok. My girls were there to pick me up and they did. That, my friends, is the power of a dog.
I am so glad your baby is okay.And I also know how great doggies can make you feel. Thank you for a great post (even if I couldn't breath for a few because I was afraid).
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad your puppy is okay!
ReplyDelete