warning: this post contains blood.

*Not for the faint of heart*

When was the last time YOU had a skinned elbow? You can't remember? Neither can I.
...until today.

So I was taking my burly Siberian Husky, Trinity, for her afternoon walk around the neighborhood. I walk her every day, at the same time, on the same route, so I know where all of the other neighborhood dogs live. And whish silly people let their dogs roam around...not on a leash.

My biggest pet peeve (pun may or may not be intended...probably may) is people who don't leash their dogs. I don't care if you know that your dog won't run away, you just make the afternoon walk a whole lot less pleasant because my dog goes insane. While Kujo over there is a good dog, who just wants to take a jaunt down the driveway to come and check out what we're up to, my dog goes crazy and starts hopping and whining and barking all over the place. While there's me on the other end trying to control her, and make her simmer down to make it seem like she's not one of those unruly dogs that doesn't have any training (Trinity is a really great dog. She just gets...excited.). But I digress...

So anyway, here I am, walking my dog near the empty lot so she can get her business done, and I start to turn around when I hear these two guys who are working on their cars say something. At first I got a little frightened, because I thought they were being gross, but then I realized that Trinity was getting all excited. I turn around and what do I see? A dog. NOT. ON . A. LEASH. So, I start trying to get Trinity under control because she's excited and wants to go smoosh the little booger. Then I lose control of myself and fall backward onto my bum. As if that's not embarassing enough? Trinity takes advantage of my embarrassment and drags me and my elbow across the pavement. She's awesome. And maybe a little unruly. Then I try and gather myself and my pride (what pride?), hop up, turn around and walk away. With my elbow propped up in the air, trying to not have blood running down my arm.

That was a long walk home...

Moral of the story? There isn't one.

But I can say that I was 21 and got a skinned elbow...if that's anything to be proud of...