So this morning, I'm lying on my bed, on hold with the doctor's office.
Down the hall, the dogs are bugged that I'm not playing with them, so they're playing with each other. Not sure what started it, but there was the sound of a squabble, and "Doctor Murphy" came running down the hall with "Nurse Belle" hot on his heels. In an effort to escape her, Murphy jumped up on my bed with a beautiful flying leap, landing squarely on my stomach. And Belle, in her zeal to catch him, made a similar flying leap, only her paws came down on my just a bit south of my stomach.
So did I get an apology for this one-two rabbit punch from my own canine posse? Not even! Murphy tried to hide behind me and Belle chomped him once then ran off, at which point, Murphy decided that it wasn't over yet and lit out in pursuit. By the time that the receptionist came back on the phone, I was just getting back to the point where I could breathe and talk again, and the dingbat duo were engaged in what sounded like a full-on brawl upstairs in the guest bedroom that they're not even supposed to be in.
I knew that I should have gotten hamsters instead of German Shepherds. Hamsters don't jump on your stomach or kick you in the junk. And even if they did, who cares? hamsters weigh like four ounces, not eighty pounds.