Today I have assumed the mantle of a sloth. I walk in slow motion. It takes me hours, okay, a slight exaggeration here, to go up and down stairs. The hall gets further and further away as I head to the kitchen. It looks like a scene from The Shining. I even stop to rest midway. Getting out of my bed this morning took me forever, or at least it felt that way. The doctor said I have a right adductor muscle sprain which will take 3-5 weeks to heal. My nephew and my friend, both sports medicine professionals, agreed. I wasn’t surprised. The pain gives it away. Last night I moaned every time I moved in bed. The moaning woke me up, but it didn’t matter. It was only temporary. I’d find a good spot and fall back to sleep until the next moaning.

This morning I finished all the word puzzles in the paper, the jumble, the cryptoquip and the crossword puzzle. I took that as a sign. My body is falling apart but not my mind.

There sat a possum with wide opened eyes looking at me, imploring me to save him. He was just outside the deck fence sitting on a concrete post. How did I find him? Nala. She was sitting on this side of the fence wagging her stub of a tail as she watched the possum. I knew that wagging was clickbait. Nala loves running through the yard with a possum in her mouth. Her pseudo friendly gesture was meant as false reassuring. I ended it all by grabbing Nala and bringing her into the house.

Today’s weather is strange. It rained before I woke up as the deck and driveway were wet. Then the sun came out. It was lovely. Then, while I wasn’t looking, the clouds returned and the sun departed, quietly. It looked like rain. I continued writing. When next I looked, the sun was back, not a trace of a cloud remaining. Right now it is a combination as if the sun is making up her mind.

Henry won’t come in the dog door. He stands outside the door crying. He pokes his head and neck through the door to see if I am coming. He sounds so pitiful, but today I decided he can wait. I just didn’t want to walk down the hall limping and cursing. Finally he came in. I was effusive with my praise.

My plans for today and maybe the rest of the week are to do nothing, my response to medical advice. I’m not lazy. I’m healing.

The morning is cloudy and in the mid 70’s where it will stay all day. The air is a bit humid. It is the sort of day lending itself to quiet. Even the dogs feel it, and both are lying around napping on comfy spots, the couch and the bed. They are my heroes.

When I was a kid, we didn’t have our own house. We lived in one side of a duplex in the project where most of the families were young. Living there was usually a first stop, the one before house ownership. When the families moved, most of them stayed in town. It was a good town. I think we moved the furthest away. Later, when I was in Ghana, my parents and my two sisters moved back to that town. My sister still lives there. It is mostly a good town.

When we first moved to the cape, I didn’t settle right away. I kept taking the bus to spend weekends with my friends. I’d come home from school and stay in my room, hating it all. I don’t remember when that changed, when the cape became home. When I got back from Ghana, even though my parents had moved away to our old town, I went home to the cape.

We sometimes went on Sunday rides. My father took all back roads. I remember seeing a few deer eating grass in a field. I was so excited I probably scared them. I think it was the first time I had ever seen animals in the wild other than the spawns and maybe a skunk or two. In the fall, we’d stop to buy apples or pumpkins. In the summer we’d sometimes get ice cream at one of those dairy farm stands that appeared on the side of the road almost in the middle of nowhere. There were always lines.

Later, after I finish here, I’m going to go get checked. I still limp, and I still cough. I woke up coughing once last night and scared Henry. He went downstairs. He came back at some point but I didn’t notice. Mostly they stay close to me. Nala tilts her head. She is trying to figure out what is happening. I just tell her it is okay, and she wags her tail.