It never fails, LEO is always under foot. No matter where I am, he can be found right under me. It's a testament to his love, I suppose. Especially when I'm cooking, he likes to sprawl out beneath the stove, so I have to keep stepping over him. Poor thing gets stepped on a lot, mostly his toes, but lots of times it's his long basset ears. He yelps and we always feel bad. The other day, I was walking up the step from the living room to the kitchen when he got under my feet. I've gotten pretty skilled at navigating his long torso and even manage to hop over him many times; this time, I was not so lucky and I hit the floor hard. I was mad because it really hurt when my knees hit the tile, but more mad because I almost spilled my beer. Being a good Catholic girl, I try to never take the Lord's name in vain, but inevitablty it slipped out. (Guess I better get to Confession soon) My knee started to feel better on Friday, so we decided to take a walk through the woods. This time when I fell, it really wasn't LEO's fault. Although, he did take off running, I was doing my best to keep up with him. It was 100% my fault, when I tripped over a prickly bush and fell right down on my knees. I thought for sure my knee was broken or at least bloody.. My jeans were so dirty and I had all I could do to dust off and pick myself back up. The kids had friends with them and I was embarrassed to have practically fallen on my face so the first thing that came to mind was to yell at LEO. I blamed him because it made sense. After all, he was attached to the leash that I was carrying and he WAS running. Nobody saw how it happened, and God knows anytime I've ever fallen in the past 6 years, it's been because of him. Since I'm heading to confession anyway, I may as well throw a little white lie into the mix. Maybe just this once, it was a little payback for LEO!
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