Stair Me Down

Let me just start by saying this IS the doggie in the window but NOT the puppy in my tale. She's cute as shit though right?

Okay, so here's how it goes down...I've had my new bike for just under a month now. It's been cold and wet and muddy; I haven't been on it much. In fact I've been off it more than you'd think.

So yeah, I've fallen off it on more than one occasion. And every time the girl says, how's your ego? Snicker snicker. After confirming that I'm okay, of course.

Really? My ego? As if I care. You can't fall if you don't ride. And you don't ride if you don't fall. Me? I just fell down the stairs. Excuse me, STAIR. It was just ONE stair. I fell off one stair. Oh no, I wasn't ON a bike. I was on my feet, emphasis on the WAS.

Here's how I went down...hard. End of story. Don't ask me; I have NO freaking clue. There I was just sock hoppin' down the steps and boom. I went boom. 4 inches from the ground. Clearly I caught myself on my forearms. Lucky me. Happy Half Birthday I feel OLD.

Enter Puppy 911. Ripley was a little slow to respond but quite able and willing, unlike some other first responders you may have heard recently in the news. This dog was on it, er, well, on me. As I rolled myself over I was face to face with a whimpering puppy. No doubt, concerned about my well being. How sweet.

When I didn't really answer outside the groans and moans, she panicked. Tempered panic mind you. She began CPR-- Cute Puppy Response. There I laid at the foot of the stairs, puppy poised above me. The whimpering stopped and the paw tapping began. Yes, Ripley began tapping my chest as if she might fix what was wrong with her careful chest compressions. She would stop, look, and listen then continue with more tapping. Thank god she skipped the breath.

Come to think of it, sweetie, would it be okay if I rode my bike in the house? I do much better on stairs on two wheels than two feet. I mean as soon as I can maneuver a handlebar again. :(