Baseball

You might be looking at the above (and below) picture and wondering why you're looking at my arm. If you look closely you might notice that I have a baseball sized bruise on my arm. The picture failed to capture the multi-colored beauty (if that's the word for it) of this bruise.

Yes, the most exciting thing that has happened to me in weeks is that I got hit in the arm by a baseball. I had decided to take Pookie for a long walk around the park across the street from us. I figured the weather was beautiful and I (we) needed some exercise and fresh air. As we were finishing up our first lap around the park, we were passing by a little league game. I was off in doggy walking la-la land and wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings. Although I doubt that my reflexes or any reaction that I could have had with advance warning would have helped me (and probably would have only made the situation worse). Anyway, out of no where I feel this arm deadening whack. Yup, I got hit by a foul ball. I was so shocked I just kept walking with Pookie. However now I was heading home instead of around the park again. My walk had effectively ended.

On my way home all I could do was say a little grateful prayer that the ball had hit me in my arm versus my head/face/belly. I think that was the most shocking thing of all- the realization that the baseball could have just as easily done some real damage instead of giving me a good sized/colored bruise.