Saturday afternoon in Vermont it snowed — and kept snowing into the evening. Kemba, being Canadian, was oblivious to the weather (see photo, right); in fact, we were able to gauge the snowfall by how much accumulated on his red coat. By dinner time, the snow had turned to rain, and then . . . the dreaded “wintry mix.”
So by the time Kemba The Alarm Clock got me up Sunday morning for a walk (at 8AM! A new record! Heading in the right direction! Forget everything I said in “Old Dog, New Trick” about those glorious sunrises!), Vermont had turned into a
state-wide skating rink. Kemba would gleefully run-slide-fall-repeat, while I, priding myself on my sure-footedness and cold-weather savvy (Vermont Homeowner Since 1978), laughed at my silly, clumsy-looking puppy. That is, until I fell backwards on my ass. First thing I was aware of: slamming the back of my head on the frozen-solid, rock-hard road. Second thing: Kemba perched on my chest, licking my face frantically.
Eventually I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and made my way back to the house. Kemba
bounced ahead of me, making sure I was going in the right direction, constantly looking back at me anxiously — or so it seemed. Once I got inside I lay down on the living room couch, where Kemba continued to lick my face and my scalp, endlessly.
Had I blacked out on the road? Did Kemba watch over me? Was he a hero, Lassie-style? I have no idea. But I do know he acted like a loyal little Duck Toller.
Carol and I were ready to take the lazy man’s way out, assume it was no big deal — a headache and some nausea — and watch the NFL playoffs, as planned. But the younger people in our house, our sons and their friends, would have none of it, and shamed us into heading over to the E.R. in Bennington. (Thanks, Natasha Richardson.)
Doctor’s diagnosis, after CT scan: minor concussion. Medical advice: try to avoid falling on your head again in the near future.
LOOK FOR A NEW BEAGLE MAN POST EVERY THURSDAY. OR PRETTY CLOSE TO THURSDAY. COULD BE WEDNESDAY. OR FRIDAY. LET’S NOT GET TOO OBSESSIVE HERE . . . 
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Glad you are ok and Kemba adorable and growing up fast! Miss you guys!
I hope this was supposed to be a humorous piece, because I chuckled a couple of times while reading it. Well, actually, I have to admit, I laughed out loud at the end…the visual and all.
Glad to hear you’re (semi) okay. You picked one helluva service dog.
Certainly glad you are OK….but can’t wait the dripping cynicism in Ricky’s next Roof Rack Report
Gosh Timmy, thank goodness you’re OK and double thank goodness you had Kemba/Lassie to take care of you! Talk soon!