Ohmygosh! Are you OK? I mean, you stated your injuries, but seriously, no broken bones?
Golly. Tell that cute Tyson to please be careful with my best friend!
Oh, a few aches, tweaked my neck a little, banged both knees.
Luis the mailman nearly got out to help me and then thought better of it and closed the door.
Good thing, Tyson had slipped his knucklehead out of the leash.
I managed to get him back into it about the time the cavalry showed up to scrape me off the street, a process complicated by a 110 lb wrecking ball leaning against me.
Anywho, got up, wiped the little dab of blood off the truck, got Tyson, Ratboy and me onto what someday may become a grass lawn.
Chit chatted with Luis the letter carrier, who was making sure I’m OK, besides the obvious bleeding. Tyson lays down and does a little belly crawl, I scritch the top of his little knucklehead and observe, “It’s a good thing he’s cute!” Luis laughs and satisfied I’M OK hands me the mail, and returns to his appointed rounds...