Yesterday afternoon, my wife and I were out walking Gracie (54 pounds of Dalmatian Rescue, plucked-from-the-street, dog-aggressive muscle, tendon, teeth and bone) when two big black dogs came barreling down the steps of a deck, charging across the grass at sixty miles an hour. We were in a commons area which runs behind the homes on the south side of our street. Great place to walk since it's right outside the back gate in our fence.
Anyway, Gracie is wholly unafraid of a fight and she charged with about 25' of extended leash to her benefit. I yelled and began running in the opposite direction to take up the slack I knew I couldn't manually retrieve in time.
Almost immediately, I tripped and fell. Eyeballing the impending canine collision, I began to reel her in by hand-over-handing the extended leash (the cord's diameter is about the size of half a lamp cord) when she really went for it.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Somehow I stopped her, but it wasn't pretty. The rope burn I suffered is across my pinkie, ring and middle fingers on my left hand. The one on my pinkie is quite deep, a wide open trough of raw flesh in the crook of my second knuckle.
The other two fingers aren't as bad, but taken together, there is no way in heck I'll be able to grip a barbell for awhile. Frustrating because I've set two personal records in the gym in the last two weeks, and now it looks like I'll have no choice but to take a week off. Otherwise, I don't have a clue how these weeping, gooey gashes on my fingers are going to heal.
Twenty-four sore hours later, it dawned on me. My tiny cross is just that, the grand total of a minor and temporary inconvenience. Indeed, I'm blessed the leash didn't saw right through the flexor tendon of my fingers, landing me in the OR for emergency surgery.
The spouses of our dead veterans, the kids in cancer wards, the families battling addiction and other social ills in our country, I suspect any one of them would trade me places quite happily.
So I'll semi-reluctantly take my week off from the gym, giving my discomfort up to the Lord, thanking God my injury wasn't worse, and thankful I was able to keep our dog away from what would have been a bloody fight and a big vet bill. With my new found free time, maybe I can work in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament or an extra Mass or Lectio Divina over scripture.
Time for a Lenten fish fry with a couple from work, God bless and have a great weekend.
Anyway, Gracie is wholly unafraid of a fight and she charged with about 25' of extended leash to her benefit. I yelled and began running in the opposite direction to take up the slack I knew I couldn't manually retrieve in time.
Almost immediately, I tripped and fell. Eyeballing the impending canine collision, I began to reel her in by hand-over-handing the extended leash (the cord's diameter is about the size of half a lamp cord) when she really went for it.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Somehow I stopped her, but it wasn't pretty. The rope burn I suffered is across my pinkie, ring and middle fingers on my left hand. The one on my pinkie is quite deep, a wide open trough of raw flesh in the crook of my second knuckle.
The other two fingers aren't as bad, but taken together, there is no way in heck I'll be able to grip a barbell for awhile. Frustrating because I've set two personal records in the gym in the last two weeks, and now it looks like I'll have no choice but to take a week off. Otherwise, I don't have a clue how these weeping, gooey gashes on my fingers are going to heal.
Twenty-four sore hours later, it dawned on me. My tiny cross is just that, the grand total of a minor and temporary inconvenience. Indeed, I'm blessed the leash didn't saw right through the flexor tendon of my fingers, landing me in the OR for emergency surgery.
The spouses of our dead veterans, the kids in cancer wards, the families battling addiction and other social ills in our country, I suspect any one of them would trade me places quite happily.
So I'll semi-reluctantly take my week off from the gym, giving my discomfort up to the Lord, thanking God my injury wasn't worse, and thankful I was able to keep our dog away from what would have been a bloody fight and a big vet bill. With my new found free time, maybe I can work in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament or an extra Mass or Lectio Divina over scripture.
Time for a Lenten fish fry with a couple from work, God bless and have a great weekend.
0 comments:
Post a Comment