I pour half the cup of food into his newly washed bowl that is propped on the upside down frying pan in the kitchen. He happily digs in as I turn to retrieve his treat ball--our normal food dispersion tool. I bend down, scooping it from the floor standing up abruptly, wherein, I crack my head so hard on the cabinetry above that I am instantly dropped to the floor, coffee mug of kibble fallen to the wayside. I'm curled, rocking back and forth on the kitchen floor, rubbing my head, cursing.
Orion contentedly continues eating his kibble.
Part of me wonders when my caring dog will come and comfort me with kisses as surely he'll notice something is wrong.
I'm still rocking.
He's still eating.
He moves on to the mug, shrew on the floor. huh, more kibble. how nice. I imagine him thinking. Myself, feeling the knob begin to form, wondering if my head it going to be tripped off for the month and we'll be back to crazy head.
Finally, as he finishes up that mug, he steps over my fallen form, and pokes my ear with his nose.
"Hey. What are you doing?"
I imagine him saying.
I stand up and get a frozen bag of veggies.
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