So Frat Boy and I were on our morning hike through the woods, and when I say woods, you all know by now I mean some pretty seriously isolated woods in the Northern California Sierras. I was moving along at a good clip because there’ve been a lot of bears and coyotes this year.
Well, that and the fact that I have consumed too many cookies lately and I’m not going to fit into my writer clothes when conference season starts up in spring. But I digress.
As we’re moving along, I’m happily wailing at the top of my lungs to Bruno Mars when Frat Boy goes off trail, stands at the bottom of a huge, old tree and barks. Huh. I go to stand next to him, tip my head back to peer two hundred and fifty feet up to the top of the tree, and then BAM. The next thing I know I’m sitting on my ass in the dirt, my head spinning.
A squirrel had beaned me with a pinecone.
Still dizzy, I call Alpha Man. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“Does it require stitches or a cast?”
To be fair, he has good reason to ask me such a question. “No.”
“The bank account thanks you.”
Honest to God, he’s so sweet and sensitive and loving it boggles the mind. Anyway, so now I have to add squirrels to my list of rabid creatures to avoid…