The exuberance of my fifteen month old puppies often exceeds my physical limitations. A couple of days ago, Hope and Angel were wrestling. Hope, an acrobat at heart, flies into the air, diving onto the couch, landing directly on my outstretched leg. My knee absorbs the hit poorly. I hobble for two days, ignoring the possiblity of a doctor visit if the pain persists.
This morning, I hear suspicious puppy growls emanating from the backyard. Upon investigation, I find shredded pieces of a plastic bag. “Not good for puppies!” My semi-innocent dogs appear oblivious to my warnings and pounce all over me while I retrieve the plastic bits strewn across the yard. They distract each other and a wrestling/growling match ensues. Angel tries to dominate Hope with super-dog power, but Hope’s agility proves superior.
In all the excitement of battle, Hope jumps over Angel and flies directly into me. Where? The side of my injured knee, almost knocking me to the ground. Oddly enough, my knee pain dissapates along with the hobbling. Is it possible whatever got knocked out of joint, got knocked back in place? The swelling is gradually shrinking and I’m gratefully scratching my head. Maybe two wrongs can make it right.
I suppose there is a spiritual application in there somewhere. If something inspires me, I’ll edit later.