Accidents Will Happen...

On returning form our morning ramble, this is what greeted me and Jules in our driveway after a light snowfall. Bob swept a magical checkerboard into the dusting of the evil white stuff- making it almost tolerable. Somehow this winter, I am just NOT in the mood for snow. Or cold.
Jules and I have a had a few interesting mini-disasters on our walks recently. The first episode occurred when Jules decided to not pick up the giant log and instead opted for an innocent appearing twig. In typical canine enthusiastic form Jules chomped down on said twig, which promptly snapped off, lodging itself firmly between Jules upper teeth, all across the roof of his mouth. I suppose it was the equivalent of having a giant piece of food wedged in between your molars and no dental floss in sight. As he was obviously in distress, I gingerly pried his lip up and immediately started gibbering unhelpfully, "Oh poor Jules; omigod, omigod that must feel awful". I was trying to insert a tentative forefinger into his mouth, all the while aware that in pain and  terror, he could easily bite down on my tender digit. We made it home, all thought of a pleasant walk abandoned. Jules was so uncomfortable and was looking to Bob and I to assist him. Bob suggested he procure pliers and attempt to wrestle it from Jules mouth, but at that very minute with my now leather glove clad finger, I was able to loosen one side and Plonk! the stick was freed. No harm was done as Jules immediately wanted to go chase snowballs.
The next incident was of my own making. I do a good deal of what I term "wool gathering" on my walks with Jules. That is, I am lost in thought and absentmindedly do stupid things, like walk into trees or fall down unexpectedly. This particular adventure falls into the latter category. There was a small rock, no bigger than a lump of coal. It was in the middle of the dirt road and I thought to be of service and kick said stone out of the way to prevent a jogger or walker from stubbing their toe on it. The problem was that Mother Nature seems to have Super Glued that stone to the ice so that I caught the toe of my boot and went "tail over teacup" so to speak. The next thing I know, I'm cheek to cheek with the dirt road and Jules is bounding over and hoping to rouse me with wet slurps of his tongue (which three second previous had no doubt been licking something delicious like raccoon feces). It did the trick, though, and revived by my canine savior, I righted myself with nothing damaged.
This is what the driveway had looked like earlier: