Violet and Friends,

It was May 2007. The St. Bernard mix dog, MIssy, my husband insisted on rescuing against my wishes, ought of the blue ran around me twice wrapping her vinyl covered steel lead tightly around my ankles, and took off. I went down like a tree, and when I was able to lift my head high enough to look at my feet, my right foot was at 3 o'clock instead of 12 noon.

My husband said, "Dear, do you think you can get up?" I wanted to say, "No, Dear, I was just wrything around on the ground for no reason." I told him to get me the phone, and I called myself an ambulance.

My ankle was broken, and was sent by our local hospital up to the one in Kansas City, about 70 miles away. Fortunately, I was able to be transported by my husband in the back seat of our pick-up truck.

This has been on my mind, b/c my ankle is still not right.

EJ