On The Left!

Earlier this month I hurt my knee painting the living room, and I've found that my dog Chandler, does not give a damn. In fact he likes it. He seems to have figured out that daddy isn't anchored very well anymore, and he's taken to chasing down just about anything that moves when we go walkies. I used to be able to dig in and give his leash a little yank when he would see a squirrel or a lizard darting up a tree. Now he knows that all he has to do is run for it, and I come crashing along after him, unable to lock my knees and pull him back.

The worst is when he sees a bicycle. I try to control Chandler by bending over him, repeating the words "No, no, no" and "Good dog", as the bicyclist rides by. Usually, if I have enough advance warning, that works just fine, and he just gives out a little snarl. What I can't control are the stupid assholes who come zipping out of nowhere, with their spandex shorts, alien shaped helmets, and healthier than thou attitudes. Usually they are going a good thirty miles per hour, and ride those very expensive bikes that make no sound other than the whoosh of air as they go by. In less than a nano-second Chandler is tearing after them. All I have time to do is bend my injured knee, and hope I don't get too much road rash when I hit the pavement.

I'm going back to the doctor tomorrow. The pills he gave me aren't working. I just hope I can get this knee problem taken care of soon, because I really don't want to end up a cripple. I talked to my mom on Sunday and she was telling me about her new Hoveround scooter. It sounds like fun, but I don't think that would be of much help for me. Chandler would just turn around and chase me. He hates those things too.