*Warning, this blog has vivid imagery. Not just my gorgeous picture my friends! A picture of my scar. If you dare to see please proceed.
Lessons I've learned in the past two weeks (when you jump from a truck that's several feet off the ground, that's moving at 20 miles an hour, to chase and meet a dog) you fall. And you don't get to meet the dog.
Then you cut your leg and get taken to the emergency vet (and you get shot up with some really funny feeling stuff and sleep really good that night).
You lick your cuts like any good dog does (then you mom and dad rub some funny smelling, nasty tasting cream around your cut. But then you do it again).
You limp around every other day (and get a lot of sympathy and a lot of bones).
You get to feeling better soon, so you can go running around your yard like a banchie like you used to (then you re-open your cut, sit on mom's bed and get it really dirty, she yells at you and totally forgets that you are the wounded one and makes you lay on the floor).
Then you are all better and have a great scar to prove you are invincible like I am.