 This
was the kind of day on which octogenarians risk breaking their
hips. Hip doctors rejoice for the sudden windfall. Octogenarians
simply have a sudden fall, and it's all very distressing.We have
a backyard that slopes away from the house. It's the perfect
scenario for sledding and breaking hips.
Early that morning, before my kids went outside, I witnessed the
sleek, shiny surface of a perfect sheet of ice. I knew that, later,
my kids would take great pleasure in destroying it -- stomping on it
like the fabled Yeti and delighting in the popping sound as they
broke through the surface. Now, however, it was gorgeous.
Well, it was until two of my neighbor's dogs raced across the
slippery slope.
The black-and-white shaggy one was in the lead. His legs
crisscrossed under him as he tried to gain a foothold on the icy
surface. Instead of fighting the slope, he suddenly turned his body
90 degrees and tried to run with the slope to the bottom. He looked
like a cartoon dog making that turn. His legs were moving in one
direction and his body kept going in the other.
The golden retriever directly behind him made the turn without
too much trouble, but he couldn't stop at the bottom of the hill. He
did that thing dogs do when they put on their brakes: His back legs
slid under him and he started backpedaling. His back end hit the
ground for some extra friction. (No brake pads, you see.)
It looked for a second like this rather unorthodox braking system
might work. Then he must've caught hold of something non-slippery,
because he suddenly tipped, nose-down, onto the ice and completed a
perfect doggie somersault. I gave him a 9.5 because he didn't stick
his landing. In fact, he continued to slide until he was stopped
rather abruptly by my giant blue spruce.
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 After these two clown dogs scrabbled their way off our ice rink,
my cat came out to test the waters. The waters were... hard... of
course, but she was determined to get to... wherever cats go.
I watched her take two cautious steps and, at the slightest hint
of slippage, she would immediately press her body to the ice. She
must've known that, as with any winter sport, the more surface area
there is touching the ice, the slower the sliding will be,
especially if that surface area is furry. Cats are smart that way.
My cat's foray across the backyard was a consistent pattern of
two steps, hug the ground, two steps, hug the ground. She did
eventually make it across, but not without incident. About halfway,
her two left paws slipped under her at the same time, thereby
sending her sideways down the slope. Desperately trying to gain
traction again, she slid about three feet while imitating a giant
ball of dryer lint in the throes of a seizure.
Who would've thought that an ice storm could provide such
entertainment?
Still, I do worry about the octogenarians. The hip doctors? Not
so much.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info.
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