This morning I put Kodiak on the leash and took him out for his morning pee. Like most days, a group (gaggle?) of geese were on the other side of our fence. I didn’t think much of it because lately he ignores them, but today was different.

Kodiak lunged and instinctively, I held on. He pulled so hard that I released the leash but had too much momentum. I went full speed ahead and crashed into the frozen ground.

The result — which we found out after a few hours in the ER, multiple x-rays and a few bouts of lightheadedness — is I have a broken left ring finger, a seriously sprained right wrist and shoulder and some big honking bruises.

It could have been much worse, but it still hurts like a bitch.

I’m rocking the finger splint, wrist brace and arm sling. I look ridiculous and will need physical therapy. I am so thankful for Michael who was luckily home and has done everything from put on my bra to tying my shoes to taping my splint closed.

I went to the bathroom by myself but I’ll spare you the details of wiping with the use of only four fingers on your left hand. You’re welcome.

If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll write tomorrow’s post while on Vicodin.

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