As Ms Morissette sang all those years ago, 'Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on yeeeooooou when you think everything's okay and everything's going riiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeiiiiight'.
And dogs, it transpires, have a funny way of sneaking right up in front of the bike tyres of husbands riding home in the dark, sending them flying not too gracefully over the handlebars.
Poor old Galumph. He hobbled in the door, clutching his chin, and whimpered (in a manly sort of way, of course) "I think we're going to need some Dettol". After sitting him down in the bathroom, and getting him to remove his hand from his chin, I had to deliver the bad news that his chin, jaggedly sliced open and oozing copious amounts of blood, was going to need a little more than Dettol. After calling our old neighbour to come over (because I don't drive, although that was definitely a time that I wished I'd gotten my licence), I patched up his knees, thighs and hands, all of which were magnificently grazed, then sent the fellas off to the emergency 24 hr clinic to get the chin looked at.
One puffy jaw, a lovely square banage and quite a few stitches later, he was back home, and definitely with some bizzare sort of delirium setting in. He kept laughing hysterically, even though I'd implore him not to, as it would make his stiches hurt.
This morning, however, it's all about the moaning and "Can you please make me another cup of milo - with a straw?". So folks, send a Get Well message his way. The old Galumph needs them!
PS I'd post a pic, but it's gruesome.
PPS The dog was fine. Stupid thing.