"Rats" and Broken Toes

I promised some friends a blog post about my weekend and my toe.

As I write this, The Voice is on the tv behind me and my feet are in a green 5 gallon bucket full of warm water and epsom salts.

Amy wrote on my facebook wall this week

"Wanna dog-sit this weekend"

(or something like that)

"Yes.yes."

(I said exactly that)

So begins the adventure.

 

Amy got a new dog.

A chihuahua 

Her name is Rosie.

I called her "rat" behind her back.

She is said to be a warm and affectionate creature.

Apparently she knows I called her a rat.

When I got to the house Friday night,

She barked. and barked. and barked.

and barked.

at me.

Amy's house echos.

It hurted my ears.

(stop to hit lap because toe hurts in water)

The poor dog barked herself behind the tv.

And stayed. 

For approximately 24hrs the dog remained in the house.

She came out from behind the tv at night. 

In fact, at one point she decided on the couch with Nora was safe enough.

She left me surprises to clean up Sunday morning.

Surprisingly enough I cleaned nothing up Saturday morning.

Promise, Amy.

I looked.

Nora left me some presents too.

But she only did that the first night. Then she liked me again.

Nora is sweet.

We are friends.

I even pet her and scratch her belly.

We's tight.

 

 

Sunday afternoon I let Nora out after church.

All of a sudden Rosie was running past me.

She decided 24hrs was too long to spend inside.

 I thought it was a good thing.

Rosie finally had the guts to be off the couch or out from behind the tv with me around.

Mm I was wrong.

The dog wouldn't come back inside.

Did I mention Rosie is an escape artist?

Her favorite thing to do is leave the backyard.

Great. I can't touch the beast.

How in the world am I to catch her if she gets out?

Good new: She never left the back yard.

Bad news: Rosie bit my sister and

shivered in the cold from 12something-6:30ish.

 

Poor Rosie.

 

But you wanted to read about why my toe is in Epsom salts.

I'll oblige you.

Sunday morning I had time to fold laundry before church.

I let Nora outside and set to work.

The kids bedroom has windows to the back yard.

I thought I'd look out them and check on Nora.

Nora sometimes like to make an escape.

So I *thought* I'd just peep through the blinds.

Silly me.

I wasn't paying any attention to the framed embroidered train in the window sill.

The train frame decided to attack my toe.

It violently hurled itself from the sill to incur pain on my second toe from the midline.

 

Fine it just fell because I moved the blinds BUT still.

It hurted me.

 

Just in case you ever wondered.

 Toenails can crack upon impact and bleed only as much as a pinhead through one tiny hole.

I know this by experience.

 

So I called Heather and she brought me some flipflops to church.

The super cute grey cowgirl boots were so not an option after that.

 

Honestly, my toe didn't hurt that bad.

It didn't begin to throb until 3/4 way through service.

 And I thought it was just bruised so I forced myself to walk on it on Sunday afternoon.

 

Oh I was wrong.

So. Wrong.

 

The silly toe robbed me of my precious sleep!

Sharp pains radiating up and down my toe!

The icepack wouldn't stay

and I was tired enough not to be all there.

 

At one point, I think it was the 1something wake up, I took some Ibuprophin.

Sweet relief- mostly.

 

Today I am hobbling about.

It actually makes me laugh to think about what I must look like.

There is nothin' visibly wrong with my person yet I walk funny.

My brother thinks I should just add to the whole picture by clapping while I hobble and laugh.

Oh yes. It is a most politically incorrect thought.

Rosie is now safely home with her family, Nora is no worse off for the wear, and the house is in order (I did manage to finish folding the laundry).

As to my toe, it will heal and I'll get plenty of laughs before the hobbling is over.