Being a Doggy Mama - Sumo Slam

You would think I would have learnt my lesson by now.

Do not throw the ball at Puppy Dog when he is on a leash.

Last time I did this, I ended up kissing the dirt - with tongue.

We were walking in a park.  I threw a ball near me, thinking that Puppy Dog could catch it within the reach of the extendable leash, but the ball rolled down a hill, he went after it, I had a brain fart and ran forward, thinking I could keep him within the range of the leash, he pulled me over and I skidded across the grass like a Major League Baseball player - except there was no home plate.

So we're out for a walk. He finds a ball - probably dropped by another dog - and carries it the few blocks home. As we are on our street, he drops the ball and I pick it up.

Then I decide that it will be safe if I throw the ball up in the air directly in front of me. He'll catch it in his mouth - like he always does - and that will be that.

For some reason, my high school maths went completely out of my head. Remember measuring the trajectory of an arc?

Or how about some common sense: What goes up, must come down.

I throw the ball. He leaps into the air. He misses the ball - what are the fracking odds of that? He keeps flying. He keeps flying. He starts to descend. Guess where I am? Yep, right in front of him.

63 pounds of chocolate-fur-covered muscle hits me square in the chest.

WHAM!

Ouch.  Frackin' ouch.

Big frackin' OUCH!