Several days ago, I was working in the garden and I over reached, stretching really hard. I knew i had just hurt my back. But I am not real smart sometimes and I had square bales of hay to pick up that afternoon. I could have put it off, but NOOOOOOOO I had to go get them. I stacked 14 bales in the back of the truck and then stacked them 5 high in the portable building we use as a feed room. Real dumb thing to do. Yesterday I couldn't even stand up. I couldn't even get off the toilet, my DH had to help me. I sobbed in pain and frustration. DH found some vallium left over from him having a tooth extracted and I gratefully took one. I spent the rest of the day flat on my back in bed. (and today) Went to the Doctor today and I will survive. Polly, our Australian Shepherd is my dog. My dog in the sense that she "owns" me. I belong to her. She loves all the family, but I am her chosen one. She got very upset when I was crying. When DH put me to bed, Polly was right there. I allowed her to get on the bed and she carefully guarded me all day. The slightest noise, and she went on full alert. Polly was a rescue dog found after hurricane Rita blasted through Houston. She was adopted by a woman looking for a lap dog for her 80 year old MIL. It was Polly's last day before she was to be euthanized. Polly certainly was no lap dog, but the woman just couldn't leave her. Two years later, the elderly woman decided Polly was just too much dog for her and wanted to find her another home. I walked into the gas/convience store in a small east Texas town where the DIL worked and she was making a free dog poster. A picture of Polly struck me and I asked about her. I called DH and was told NO NO NO WE DON'T NEED ANOTHER DOG!!!!! "But her eyes are talking to me in this picture", I protested. He sighed and told me to get the dog. When I walked in the lady's house, Polly left her, came straight to me and sat down. The lady marveled and said the dog never took up with anyone. Polly went home with me. The lady also said Polly was scared of men. Well, when I opened the front door of our house, Polly ran straight to DH, jumped in his lap and licked his face. Polly was home. My 89 year old Mother moved in with us a couple of months ago after having a stroke. Polly is her special friend. Polly has become even more protective since Mom has come to live with us and is convinced that all repairmen are demons, friends that have been here before are to be barked at and peolpe that walk down the street in front of the house have no right to be there. She loves Mom. When our grand daughter (now 5 years old) began to crawl and pull up, trying to stand, she pulled out handsfull of Polly's fur. Polly didn't mind. In fact, she made herself available for the baby to use her for assistance to stand. We would pry fur out of tiny clenched fists, but Polly never even whimpered. Our grand daughter prays at night and always includes "God Bless Polly". When she comes to visit, Polly is always in the middle of whatever is going on. Polly is a loving family dog. When offered a treat, she daintily takes it from our fingers. She loves attention and will nudge under an arm for more petting. She does not like to go out in the mornings to potty because she will get her feet wet in the dew. Our SIL correctly dubbed her "Princess Polly". She is terrified of thunderstorms, lightening and rain. She will shake, tremble and drool. I guess that comes from being found in a major hurricane. Polly loves to curl up in my lap at night and lay her head on my chest. She gazes at me adoringly with her one blue eye and her one brown eye before drifting off to sleep. She is utterly devoted to me and I don't know what I have done to deserve such love from such a magnificient animal. My Polly. I love her.