Motherhood Can Be Hazardous to Your Health

Thankfully it’s not often lately that I’m reminded of the potential harm that can come from assuming the role of “Mom” in the family.

          Unfortunately, last night was one of those reminders.

          My son has a dog, Max.  For the most part (that’s another blog), he’s very sweet. He’s a rescue and there is some debate whether he might be part Great Dane. His coloring looks a lot like a Beagle.  I can’t imagine a Beagle getting involved with a Great Dane (at least by choice).  Whatever he is, he’s about eighty pounds of pure muscle with lots of speed and hyperactivity mixed in.  In addition to Max, we have two Labradoodles. One has a clear anxiety disorder (he’s been referred to a pet psychologist so we’re hopeful this will improve), and the other is battling a third form of cancer.

          Having three dogs in the house isn’t easy especially when you’re the Mom.  That’s because, even though you may absolutely love dogs, when the decision is being made about getting a dog, you are likely the only one to express any reservations. And why wouldn’t you when it’s likely that when it comes to the new puppy you’ll be assuming most if not all of the caregiving responsibilities.

          What does all this have to do with my health?

          Yesterday afternoon, I came up with a brilliant idea. Max seems to get wilder at night, so how about running him around in the yard a bit?

          Seemed reasonable.

          I decided to kick a ball for him to fetch.  Actually, my initial idea was to kick a ball for Max and one of my other dogs, Luka, to chase after.  I should have known what I was in for when after kicking the ball, Luka ran not for the ball but back to the house.  Clearly, he was smarter than me.

          I continued kicking the ball with Max retrieving it.  He was having fun and getting some exercise.

          All was well.

          Before I continue, I should add that I was dressed in my nicest pair of white slacks and a pair of not at all inexpensive white leather tennis shoes.  I was dressed for an afternoon shopping excursion with friends and not a soccer match with a Shetland Pony.

          I kicked the ball again.  Max was a bit closer to me this time than he was before and just as I kicked the ball, he decided to make a running start and then leap, mouth wide open, to retrieve it.

          Unfortunately, our timing wasn’t the best (or it was depending on how you look at it), and my ankle collided with one of his teeth.  The force was so great I initially thought I might have broken my leg.  Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

          Instead, blood gushed everywhere.  For you dog lovers out there, you’ll be happy to know it wasn’t Max’s blood.  In fact, he was unfazed.

          Me, on the other hand, I limped into the house screaming for help.

          Long story short, last night, instead of relaxing after dinner, I was in the Urgent Care where I was given a Tetanus shot, two different kinds of antibiotics and a pair of crutches.  I also endured the “cleaning of the puncture wound.”  To say that wasn’t “fun” is an understatement.

          In the end, Max and I need to have each other’s back on this entire episode, and we do.  In explaining to the Urgent Care doctor, I was careful not to implicate Max in biting lest he end up in the Big House (i.e., Animal Control). In exchange, I told my son that if medical care becomes necessary for Max, he take great care in explaining how his mother kicked his dog in the face.

          Fortunately, while I’m not in great shape, Max seems perfectly fine.  He can take and give a hit with the best of them. Perhaps he should consider an NFL career. I’d recommend he try out as a linebacker or strong safety.

          I wish this entire episode wasn’t the only time something like this has happened.  I have a crazier story that I’ll save for a later blog.

          Stay tuned.