Pride goeth with the fall

I did something the other day I'm not proud of. Something Mother has never seen me do. Something I sincerely hope never to do again.

Aunt Erin and Aunt Mary had come up for a visit. I admit I may have avoided capture by Mother for a few minutes, since the 5 days of dewormer were still at the forefront of my mind, but Mother is a persistent sort, and I eventually submitted gracefully to her dominion.

Which worked out well, since we went to the porch where she brushed me while the aunts fussed and exclaimed over my looks and pet me. The Herballs were flowing freely, and I was having a good time. Mother decided to lunge me briefly, which she does from time to time to monitor my comfort and use of my not so good limb. Aunt Erin and Aunt Mary like to see me in motion, so we went to the multipurpose, and around and around I went.

I slipped a little once or twice, and Mother guided my circles away from that slightly more slick section. I was volunteering, as always, somewhat more than she had asked for. She cautioned me to watch myself, not go too fast.

I really wasn't even going that fast, nor was I in the slick section, but that's when IT happened.

A back leg slid out. Oops. Then the other. Uh oh... that's OK, I still have the fronts... wait- no, no I don't.

OOOOOFF!

I lurched to my feet and continued on. Mother and Aunt Erin and Aunt Mary hadn't said anything; maybe they didn't see it? My embarrassing little accident never happened! But then Mother halted me and walked up to inspect my limbs.

We walked a bit more, and she trotted me out, and I was none the worse for wear. Nothing hurt but my pride.

The only thing that would be more embarrassing is if the coat story ever got out.
I shudder to think of the shame.