When I woke up yesterday morning at 7:30, after very good night’s sleep, I was feeling refreshed and eager to experience the first day of the new year. The rain that drenched our area had stopped and the sky was a brilliant blue without a cloud in the sky.

I savored my morning coffee, read the Sunday paper, ate my breakfast, trimmed my beard, and took a shower. I was feeling great.

At around 10:30, my wife and I went to our back deck and sat in our swing chair to enjoy the sunshine and relatively mild temperatures and to watch the birds frolicking in the waterfall. Or dog was on the deck with us, busy chomping away on no-hide bone. Everything was wonderfully serene.

At around 11:45, the dog got up and started walking around, a sure sign that nature called. I got up and grabbed her leash and walked her to the spot where she usually takes care of business. Sure enough, she pooped. I pulled a poop bag out of my back jeans pocket, dropped the leash, and picked up her poop in the bag.

When I dropped her leash, she took off like a bat out of hell, and started zooming around the backyard. I saw her as she was heading toward me, her leash whipping in the air behind her. As she zoomed past me, her leash wrapped around my legs like a cowboy’s lariat wraps around the legs of a calf at a roping competition. Suddenly my legs went out from under me and I landed flat on my back.

And flat on my back in bed is where I spent most of New Year’s Day. Taking Advil every four hours, chewing a CBD gummy every six hours, and trying to lie as still as possible to avoid severe and agonizing lower back muscle spams.

Yes, 2023 is not off to a good start. For me, anyway. I hope it was better for you.