Some midlife mishap stories involve paperwork or missed appointments. “And I ran for the train, but gosh-darn-it, I missed it!”
This one involves the beach, coffee, two furry rockets and a lucky escape from injury.
I was walking along the beach with a friend – our dogs having their first-ever play date. Polly is a young Border Collie (think: pocket-rocket shepherding machine), ten months old and still very much growing into her legs. Luna, at eight, is the older, wiser auntie figure who absolutely can keep up … she just prefers to ration her energy like a woman who has lived long enough to know better.
They are now the best of friends.
There were dogs everywhere – romping, sniffing, making new friends – and Luna and Polly took turns sprinting off to join whatever chaos was unfolding and then looping back to us like we were the designated pit crew.
Somewhere in all this, I told my friend about the time Luna and my sister’s dog, Molly (a small, sweet but deceptively powerful German Shepherd x Lab), collided with me on the beach years ago. I went down hard, injured my knee and was limping around like an elderly pirate for a day or two. We laughed about it – in that “glad that’s behind me” way.
It seems the universe overheard that conversation and responded with, “Hold my beer.”
On the walk back, without warning Luna and Polly came charging towards us with the combined enthusiasm of two small missiles who had no sense of physics or personal space. I could hear them, but I didn’t see them. And I certainly didn’t realise they were coming in hot … and direct.
One second I was walking, coffee in hand, halfway through a sentence. Next, I was airborne – and then very much not. The sentence knocked clean out of me.
They hit the back of my legs, my feet went skyward, and I landed in the sand in one dramatic, undignified thud … straight on top of Luna. She broke my fall like a furry crash mat and let out a very offended yelp. I apologised profusely (although I don’t know why … the whole thing was her fault!)
And in all of this, I didn’t drop my coffee.
I know, what a flex!
Spilled it down my front and up my arm, yes. But I held onto that cup like it contained the secrets of the universe.
My friend said my legs went “SOOO high,” which feels like both a brag and a warning.
So is there a little revelation to learn from this little midlife mishap? Honestly, I doubt it. Shit happens. But maybe I should enjoy peace when I have it, because I never know when something with four legs and zero impulse control will try to rearrange my spine.
Anyway, we’re all fine. A tiny bit sore, a tiny bit sand-coated, and quite a bit humbled. Here’s hoping Luna decides the lesson has been learnt and Polly grows her brakes soon.
With sand still in places it shouldn’t be,
Em x
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