This is not a Newfoundland. It is my mother’s Doberman, Trinket, wearing her leopard coat with a fur trimmed collar. Albuquerque has BIG SNOW and Trinket is not amused even in all her finery. Trinket would not run me over, however, her sister Voodoo the mugger (puppy of older, indulgent parents) is a whole other post.
Moving along barely…
My sweet Mother is also clever. When I told her one of our campers enthusiastically greeted me by body slamming me into the garage wall and exuberantly running over me a few times, she penned a poem for me. I’m a little worse for wear but feel, Ohhhh so happy, that I’m finishing out the year with a scraped chin, knee, and sore ankle and not a broken bone and crutches. Nobody will ever be able to accuse me of not counting my blessings. No siree!
And now the poem by my sweet, clever, Mother
The Holidays are here and we’ve been busy,
Running around so fast we’re almost dizzy.
If that isn’t enough I got hit by a Newfie
Knocked me down so hard I felt a bit goofy.
Just as I was getting up he made another pass,
This time he knocked me on my ass!
I yelled don’t you dare do that again you great hairy dog,
By then I gotta tell you I was in a bit of a fog.
Finally made it back on my feet, knees skinned ankle burning,
Oh this was just sweet!
I limped in the house and Cole asked, what was up,
I replied, oh just another minor upset at Camp Run A Pup.
Onward towards the New Year!