How the Dog (Almost) Broke My Nose

11 02 2010

It’s time for me to put aside my pride and confess one of the klutziest things I’ve ever done. 

If you’ve been around me in the last few weeks, maybe you noticed the ugly bruise on the ridge of my nose. If you didn’t, then my makeup camouflage worked well (thank you, Neutrogena!) 

Let me rewind a few weeks, to a random Tuesday morning. Tyler left early that morning, as he’s been student teaching early every morning in a first-grade class for one of his seminary requirements. I was left alone with the two puppies, Bonzer and Tucker. 

All you need to know about these two dogs it that Bonzer, the older and smaller dog, is quite possibly more intelligent than 75% of the human population—he can balance on his hind legs on an exercise ball, balance on my head, and knows over fifty other commands. Tucker, on the other hand, is as dumb as a brick—but very cute and cuddly. Together, they make quite the wily pair. 

It's their fault--really!

 

As I was showering that morning, Bonzer knocked over our trash can and proceeded to strew the contents all over the floor—an unfortunate habit that he has fallen into when he’s in a particularly vindictive mood. And yes, we have a trashcan with a lock, so I’m not exactly sure if I forgot to lock the trash can or if Bonzer actually has hidden opposable thumbs and opened it himself. 

Best I can figure out, Tucker then immediately launched himself on the contents of the aforesaid trash can and devoured everything in sight. Including the spicy hot peppers I dislike (that my husband insisted on putting on my Greek salad the night before) and had tossed in the trash. 

Apparently, spicy hot peppers and little puppy stomachs don’t agree. 

I hopped out of the shower and was assaulted by a foul smell. 

I ran out to the living room, and saw that Tucker had relieved himself in the foulest way possible on the floor. Gagging, I ran for paper towels and soap. It took several trips back and forth to the bathroom to clean this nastiness up. 

I was on the last handful of poopy paper towels, and mentally patting myself on the back for cleaning up so quickly that the real tragedy struck. In my haste in showering that morning, I hadn’t finagled the new shower curtain closed just right. Water seeped out into a large pool, and while I was cleaning up Tucker’s mess, the pool crept all the way around the back of the toilet and made the entire half of the bathroom a dangerously soaking mess. 

Upon entering the bathroom and going to flush those last two paper towels down the toilet, I hit the pool of water. And slipped. 

Since both of my hands were full of poop, I knew I couldn’t catch myself on the wall without smearing my face into it. So, in that split second, I didn’t use my hands to break my fall. 

Instead, I used my nose. 

My nose slammed full-force into the wall. The tears immediately rained down my face, and all I could think was, “I broke my nose because of this stupid dog’s poop?” I thought it was broken—the pain was excruciating. 

To make a long story short, I had to ice my nose for quite a while, but all that remained to give testament to this chaotic morning was that bruise on my nose. 

In order to convince my co-workers that my husband is not beating me but that I am merely a klutz, I had to spill the whole story to them when I got to the office. 

Sometimes you wonder about the stories people will tell about you at your funeral—will this be one of them?

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