Poor dog

[lblanchard]

I am in my office and Mr. Darcy is crying because he can't get up the stairs to the third floor. And now so am I.

EDIT: I spoke and sniffled too soon. Here he is, lying in my office doorway, panting and grinning. Miss Ferko isn't any too pleased, though.

EDIT II: On the way downstairs, Mr. Darcy behind me, he lost his footing, careened into me, knocked me about a bit, and now I am nursing an annoyed left knee and a burgeoning bruise/hematoma just above my right heel. I'm resting the latter on a huge bag of frozen mixed vegetables and hoping for the best. This will not do. I will install the baby gate and he will simply have to cry, poor thing.

This is going to make my Lincoln Day Parade march tomorrow decidedly unpleasant.

EDIT III: rest, elevation, ice (in this case, frozen mixed vegetables), andthe compression that comes from resting a heavy leg on the aforementioned mixed vegetables appears to have done the trick. A little generalized swelling and discoloration/discomfort, but apparently no hematoma. Possibly it wasn't as bad a knock as I thought, even though I slipped down a stair and landed nastily against the riser of the step above. (Re-playing the fall in my mind, I'm sobered by how close I came to actually falling down the stairs, possibly breaking something. I caught the banister by the skin of my teeth.)

Comments

[idahoswede.livejournal.com]

I keep picturing Colin Firth ....

[lblanchard.livejournal.com]

The dog damn near killed me on the way downstairs. I'm about to add another update.