Tag Archives: bruise

True Story

It was a dark, damp, creepy morning.  Braving the elements I crept outside, giving my all, to make sure my faithful canines were well taken care of.  My Belgian Malinois on one side, my Australian Cattle dog on my other side.  Carefully we made our way down to their yards, cautiously keeping our eyes peeled for any sign of trouble.

Quickly it leapt from the shadows, some mysterious creature, with fangs a foot long, dripping with crimson.  I could tell it wanted my precious four-footed friends, and I was prepared to stop it.

I leapt towards it, as it snarled at me, grabbing it’s gnarly, slimy fur in my fingers.  I pulled and pushed, as it slashed at me with its dagger like claws.  I punched, and jabbed, as it fought back.

My canines faithfully snapped at the horrific creature, as it fought me with all its might.  But I commanded them to stay back out of harm’s way.  The creature pounced on top of me, crashing me to the ground, its rancid drool, hanging dangerously close to my face.  I closed my eyes, preparing to deal it one last brutal blow.  And with all my might I shoved my fist deep into it’s gut, sending the rabid creature screaming into the woods.

{I swear that’s what happened yesterday.  Honest to gawd and such.  That’s why my leg is all black and blue.  That’s why I can’t move any muscle in my entire body.  Honest.  Because we all know my husband’s lovely dog is so well-trained that he would never run after a damn shadow and knock me into the air, to land square on my back.   Ugh.}

The end.