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  • Writer's picturePatty Kramer

The Great Fall

Updated: Aug 2, 2023




Yesterday I learned something new about my Whiny two-legs-- she can bounce! I was standing right there with my ball in my mouth watching the whole thing play out.

Not as big of a bounce as that character named Tigger in the movies that Beauty loves to watch, but a bounce, nonetheless. You could say that I was the cause of her going bouncy-bouncy, as it was the hole I dug, when I was a wee pup, that made her fall.

She had a bucket of sand, and had filled the hole in part-way, and was busy stomping it down when she hung her foot. For a few seconds her arms flailed hopelessly around before she fell sideways and lay sprawled on the ground. The bouncy part of the great fall was when her bottom hit dirt it bounced up a few inches, and then hit again. Her head? Well, it didn’t bounce at all. It stayed right where it landed.

We’d been playing fetch, or rather I’d been aggravating Whiny with my ball to make her play. But I was in such shock at the sacrifice now laid out before me on the grassy altar, that I dropped my favorite toy. It took a few seconds, but when my doggie mentality finally kicked in, I took full advantage of her prone position and attacked while the biting was good. Kissing any fleshy part that wasn’t covered in clothes, and pouncing happily with all four feet upon the rest!

What fun I was having until My-boy came out the front door and hurried over, concern written all over his face. As he later told Bright Eyes, he was quite worried about his grandmother until Whiny began to giggle when he asked if she was okay. His face relaxing completely when Whiny burst into crazy laughter as I tickled her with more loving nips and nose jabs. Offering her help to get up off the ground, My-boy stood by until she managed to stop my maniacal attack on her body, and she helped pull herself up using the porch post. Declaring to My-boy that the fall didn’t hurt her, and that thanks to my many kisses and puppy pounces, she would be fine. Mumbling something under her breath about it was too bad that all the butter she eats went to her bottom instead of her head, as a bit more padding around her hard head would have been better.

The Booga-man was informed that Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall, although I wasn’t sure what that phrase meant when Whiny repeated it to him over the phone. He didn’t know what it meant either, or maybe he didn’t get the joke, because he showed up an hour or so later with a big frown across his face and a shovel in his hand. Tapping in the hole until it was filled solid and warning me not to dig another hole in Whiny’s yard. Too bad he couldn’t see my facial expressions for all the fur on my face, or he’d have understood that his order was falling on deaf ears. I mean, who in the world ever heard of a dog that didn’t dig holes? Did he have me confused with a cat?

Even before he ate his delicious smelling supper that Whiny had sitting on the hot box in the kitchen, the Booga-man went out into Wish Island and hammered in handrails for Whiny to use when coming down the steep steps that bring her back into the real world. Saying he was preventing her from taking any more falls and reminding her that she wasn’t a spring chicken! Confusing me completely, because never did I think she was any kind of chicken because I remembered them from being back on the farm where I was born. The chickens in that yard made a lot of fussing noises, scratched at the ground, and ran around removing bugs from all the blooming flowers.

Hmmm, now that I think about it, that does sound a lot like Whiny!

I want everyone to know that I was a great help to the Booga-man while he was working, by barking furiously at that dad-blamed hammer, keeping it in line while he pounded away. By the time he was finished, we both needed a good drink of cold water, me because my throat was parched from all the barking, and the Booga-man because it was a hundred degrees even in the shade.

He got Whiny to test out the safety rails, and she approved. Which had him declaring that there would be no more falling down for his Lady Bug! You know, the Booga-man might seem like the Grinch that Stole Christmas, a movie that I hate because I can’t catch those odd-looking things that dance and sing across the black box, but me and Whiny know better. As a small puppy in my kennel right outside their bedroom door I’d heard him at night when the lights were turned off. Talking to someone named Dear Lord, asking Him to protect his Lady Bug. Asking Him some nights to please not let her forget to turn off the hot box when she finished cooking, or to please help her keep her marbles rounded up. Probably now at night, he will ask Dear Lord to please not let her fall anymore.

All I can say about the Dear Lord is that He must be good at His job, as one day when Whiny said she feared she’d lost her marbles, Noisy had answered, “No you haven’t! They’re right there! See them in those two glass jars sitting on the shelf by the dining room table?” And he was right, there is a big collection of marbles in those jars.

It’s great to have My-boy, the Booga-man and Noisy to help me corral Whiny and her marbles. Otherwise, for sure, they’d roll underneath the couch just like my first ball and be lost forever.

Whiny running around without all of her marbles sounds pretty scary.



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