Dear Readers,

Just when I thought things were settling into a smooth rhythm of our usual summer activities, Momma had another moment as only she can. This time it was an epic fall at Agile Canines Training School.

Last Monday we arrived at class as pawr usual and set up for our runs of the day. This was going to be a relatively easy day, Momma thought, as Annelise had suggested a modified course for us. She told Momma she had a theory that I was anxious about the larger obstacles such as the dog walk and the A-frame, and that I might be able to do a more focused run without them in the picture.

Anyway, the bigger dogs with the higher jumps went first, and my modified course was saved for last (less confusion that way). Happily, my first run went well, especially with Momma frequently baiting me with treats. (I do admit to having a bit of doggie attention deficit disorder (DADD) when starting out and treats help.)

But I dogress. The second run of the day for us started out promisingly well. I attribute this to the fact that I had pretty much memorized the course, and could do it come hell or high water with Momma. And speaking of which . . .

After a little hesitation at the start line (looking for more treats), I kicked into high gear and was traversing the course with lightning speed. Momma was valiantly trying to keep up and did a good job until I reached the serpentine part of the course which is always a little tricky. Just as I came to the last jump of the pattern, Momma, wildly trying to stay with me, stumbled and went flying like an out of control missile. And despite doing her best to do a tuck and roll, suffered an injury (some type of muscle pull she thought) to her right leg.

Despite knowing she was hurt, Momma put on her game face (she was mortified) and hobbled through the rest of the course with me. (I did it perfectly so as not to cause her any additional steps.) We managed to get home safe and sound, where she fed me and searched Google for her diagnosis. I, in my usual support dog role, kept a close eye on Momma, ready to tend to her emotional needs.

The next day she made her (becoming routine now) trip to TRIA Orthopedics where she told the doctor what had happened and what her injury was, based on Dr. Google. The doctor listened patiently and proceeded with her own exam. After a thorough work up, the doc determined that Momma likely had a slightly torn tendon where the hamstring muscle connects with the sit bone and a strained hamstring. No surgery was required, she said, and with time, rest and exercises, Momma should be better soon. Then she asked Momma if she needed a cane during her recovery period. Whoops! Momma, miffed, huffed that no she did not need a cane (she actually knew she still had one on hand from her last injury). But, when the doc asked if Momma wanted a physical therapy appointment after her exam, she jumped at the chance to rehabilitate herself!

Back at TRIA later that morning, Momma was pleasantly surprised to be called in for her rehab appointment by an extremely good looking young man (how does this always happen?). Momma perked right up and, trying not to limp or look feeble, followed him back to the PT room. As with the doctor, the therapist listened patiently to her tail of woe, and ran her through a battery of tests. Then he gave her an exercise (“baby stuff, Lina”) to do at home, answered her multitude of questions (i.e. “would it be okay to walk around the Mall of America?”) and told her he wanted to see her again in two weeks. Momma was thrilled. As I write, she is looking at her calendar and counting down the days.

Lina, Still rolling with the punches

WOOFDA!