Friends, last Monday is a blur to the Mango. I mean, I felt fine in the morning and went about my day as usual, but come nighttime and my leggie was ever so sore that I could almost not even walk. What could have happened?
Well, now the truth is revealed and it is, frankly, shocking, and beyond belief, but I have actual digitals photos to prove that the tail I am going to tell is completely true.
It all started when Norweed overheard some chit chat amongst the labradork goon squad at his daycamp.
Confused by this ominous conversation, he immediately rushed to his cousin Tula for a consultation.
She figured out at once that some doggie, some evil doggie, had set his sights on my large and hapless self and was arranging bodily harm! Ruh roh!
Norwood was outfitted with a watchercall wire tapping photo shooting head set and instructed to infiltrate the goon squad and get to the bottom of things.
He made his way to Logan airport where he spotted these thugs and was able to intercept them. Oh no! It is Jack and Buddy! I thought they were my pals, but apparently the labrabond runs deeper than any mere internets friendship.
So as not to cause further suspicion over his questionable head gear, Norweed brought the heavily armed tennis ball obsessed hoodlums back to the estate and attempted to soften their minds with funballs action.
Success! Because after chasing tennis balls, eating rocks, and indulging in a quick swim, they became torpid and uninclined to exert themselves further in the outtaking of my large and preferring to stay in self.
But they still needed to fulfill their contract and subsequently produced a huzzy suit which was just the right size for Nordork to squeeze into and lay a trap.
A diabolical trap.
A trap designed to bring harm to the Mango!
Yes, the old banana peel at the bottom of the stairs trick. In my haste to avail myself of the false Khyra, I slipped on the wayward fruit and became airborne! EIYEEEE!
Rendering me senseless and damaged in my large yet curiously fragile hind end.
Oh pity the Mango who is now confined to the interior of the estate. Unable to play tennis ball. Unable to go to skool. And not even enjoying a romp in my own yard.
That said, I am feeling a bit better of late and am managing the stairs without causing momma's heart to stop beating.
Thanks to the beautiful nurse Honey who was at my side as soon as she heard that I was injured and at least provided me with some fresh air and mentals stimulations.
But what of the hit itself?
What doggie could possibly hold a grudge against the Mango?
Who would benefit from my incapacity?
Mango Man! Oh yeah!