Dear Derry Dog Park goers,

I'm truly SO sorry. I really didn't mean it, it just slipped out.

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Here's the thing though - I tend to be a multitasker. I actually pride myself on multitasking. So when I had gotten to the park recently, I was on the phone with one of my best friends who is also one of my former bosses. You see, he was asking me about a program I had used for an internet stream that he is putting together, and was looking for more information on it.

We also tend to joke around with each other with over the top lines and jokes, both in person and on the phone. ESPECIALLY on the phone. It's just our relationship -- we're both wise guys and our way of showing love to each other (and others, really) is by teasing them and jokingly talking a little trash. So, basically, we have pretty uncensored conversations.

TO MY CREDIT THOUGH, I was mindful of that when I first got to the park and let Remy off his leash to run around. See, Remy has this thing where he runs around the park a few times like he's in the Kentucky Derby, sniffs some dogs, jumps up and boops noses with humans because he NEEDS to say hi to everyone (sorry for that, too -- it's a long work in progress), then he figures out who his equal is and starts playing/wrestling with them.

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So when I walked in the park, I was mindful that I was in a public setting and was keeping it clean on the phone. But then, the PTSD kicked in. Because a couple of weekends ago at the dog park, Remy decided his equal was a Great Dane about 3 times the size of him (no one can say my pup doesn't have heart, at least). So while they were horsing around and trying to one-up each other, they started inching their way closer and closer to me. And then it happened.

The Great Dane went to playfully either reach or swipe at Remy, who is basically like a nonstop little rocket and avoided it. Know who didn't avoid it? "Jaddy Daddy," as my friends like to call me. Instead of Remy getting a playful swipe, I got a HAYMAKER from that Great Dane square in the ouchie area. And it was the kind of haymaker that leads to a really bad stomach ache.

Anyway, flash forward back to yesterday -- Remy had found an equal or two, and they were all playing around. And, magically, they were all getting closer to me, because what screams "the most fun" more than jumping around all over each other next to a dude that resembles an actual real-life leprechaun (I'm short and I have a ginger beard -- need I say more?) And then...it happened again.

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This time, though, it was my own son. My own flesh and drool. Remy, for WHATEVER UNGODLY REASON, decided the best move was to leap forward at me, head first. Maybe he was trying to boop my nose. But like I said, I'm a wee little guy -- I've seen Remy boop noses with people over 6 feet tall. Nope, Remy went full force, head first, right into the family jewels.

And that's why I'm sorry, because what I followed up with wasn't an "Ouch!" or a "Remy, no!" or a "No jump, Remy!" -- nope. That would've been too easy. Since I was focused on keeping an eye on Remy to make sure he was behaving, and also engrossed in conversation with my radio mentor, I didn't exactly think about the words that came out of my mouth. Because I stopped mid-sentence on the phone and instead not-so-quietly bellowed out, "NOT RIGHT IN THE **** AGAIN!" (For reference, the blanked out word is a nickname for Richard.)

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I didn't realize what I had done until I heard a woman about 10 feet away from me burst out laughing. And all I could follow up with was a, "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to be outloud." I proceeded to hang my head in shame, and put myself in the corner to think about what I had done. (No, seriously, I stood at the corner of the fencing and quietly finished my conversation.)

So, for all of that, Derry Dog Park people, I'm so sorry. I'll work on being better in the future. Or maybe I'll just invest in a cup.

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