The world was a wonderful place in this time they call spring. I ran and played in my yard. I explored in the woods and learned to walk in the water of the creek or jump from rock to rock. I especially liked walking on stonewalls on the hill behind our house. Then one terrible Friday in April I got hit by the tire of a pickup truck. I cried and cried. My people rushed me to my vet and then it was a long drive to a hospital. I licked everyone I could to let them know I was a good dog. I don't remember much now about those days at the hospital after my surgery. At last my people came to take me home. I had to wear an awful contraption on my head and they had to hold up my rear legs with a sling. I wasn't allowed to run and play anymore. I had to take pills all the time and stay in my crate. My dad carried me outside when I had to go. It was an awful time for a boy that just wanted to jump and run.
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