On Saturday morning, I took my eyes off the driveway where my two Jack Russells, Eddie and Lucy, and I were walking—to wave at a neighbor, Nicole, who was walking her greyhound, Ike, and had paused at its entrance as we approached. At that moment, Lucy took it into her little head to stop cold at my feet so that I tripped right over her and fell hard on my knees and hands. Not good—but at least I didn’t hit my head or break anything. I rolled off my knees onto my side where I lay winded and hurting—both dogs anxiously licking my face. Nicole ran to me, and said she had spotted a police car moments earlier on our road—and after checking me out—took off for assistance. After she returned and with her encouragement—but without her offered help—I got up, then realized I couldn’t stand—by which time she had disappeared—I suppose to lead the policeman to where I was—and so I somehow made it over to lean against a tree, but found I still couldn’t stay upright and slid down to the ground where I felt myself starting to pass out and become nauseated.
Moments later I had no choice but to give in to the nausea but, by then, Brian, the policeman Nicole had hailed was in attendance and in no time another policeman also named Brian joined him. Then the dog warden and two men, Jim and Chris, from my town’s volunteer ambulance corps complete with ambulance arrived—all extremely pleasant and helpful and, indeed, personable. In fact, it was a great pleasure to meet them even if the circumstances under which that happened were less than desirable.
I was asked and successfully answered questions as to my name and address, the date, and who was President of the United States; the dog warden finished walking the dogs and secured them back in the house; Chris took my blood pressure—it was low but then it’s always low; and everyone encouraged me to take a nice ride to the emergency room. Perched on the ambulance stretcher, I explained that, in fact, I didn’t have time to do so and they allowed as that was not an acceptable reason not to go.
Eventually, after further badinage—I told them about my newly published Ebook of short stories for the Kindle and warned the policemen that murders were committed in some. “But,” I said, “don’t get any ideas.”
“Hmm,”said one of Brians, “if there’s a crime in town we’ll know just where to go.”
I signed the EMT release form, listened to their kind admonitions and then the other Brian walked me home.
After a restful day or so I find myself as good as new—if a nearly eighty-year old woman can so qualify.
Happy Thanksgiving!
P.S. Curious about my new eBook? You can find http://bit.ly/TheDevilsNewspaper on Amazon. It contains a collection of four deadly and two disturbing stories.
Off My Rocker 