How to maintain your composure while sailing through the air clutching a bag of dog-sh!t

Weather permitting, Bruno gets a drive to the off-leash dog-park every morning. It's not so much about the exercise as it is about his social skills. He spent pretty much the first year of his life in a crate, and therefore didn't have any.

Very first time I walked him in public was out at MacGregor Point. Had him on the leash, but when he spotted a couple of hounds coming our way he went total Crazy Dog and took me with him, dragging me through the snow, hanging onto the leash for dear life. There ensued fifteen seconds of mayhem of which all I remember is a three-dog fight and the two gals walking those hounds making a bigger racket than the dogs. 

By then I'm lying in the snow, Bruno lying across my chest in contrition, trying to make sense of what just happened. One of the gals kept yelling "I'm sorry I kicked your dog," and the other one, "are you alright are you alright are you alright?" While it's not what I see when I look in the mirror, folks quite often mistake me for a senior citizen, so I suppose their concern was not unwarranted.

Wouldn't that be the dog walk from hell? Coupla gals head out to MacGregor for a pleasant hike with their canine companions, only to have their dogs attacked and then see this geezer drop dead from a heart attack right in front of their eyes.

My takeaway from that embarrassing episode was we gotta get the Big Boy some social skills.

So for the first time in my life, I sought out a dog park. We've been attending regularly ever since, except when the experts had some concerns over dog-to-human or vice versa virus transmission and the place was locked down for a spell.

And he's come a long way. He's got the butt-sniffing thing down. Whenever you arrive at the park and get in the gate, all the other dogs come over to check you out. Resembles an elephant walk at times.

Today four of his pals were waiting; Rosie, Dexter, Tilley, and Piper. They're racing this way and that. Bruno takes a time-out for a crap on the first lap. He's the biggest dog in the park and his shits are equally impressive. This is a particularly generous effort, and it's all I can do to get that bag inside out without getting any on my hands. He rejoins the pack and they resume their festivities, while I'm heading down the back straight with the bag 'o poo.

At 130 lbs Bruno doesn't have the acceleration of the little guys, but he can build up an impressive head of steam. He's a little deficient in braking and cornering though.

I turn around and see the herd heading straight for me, Bruno in the lead, Piper and Dexter hard on his tail, and while he's hurtling towards me, his head is turned and he's looking back at them...

For half a second, my head and my feet were equidistant from the ground... and then I was flat on my back in the snow, still holding that bag of dogshit in front of me.

The pack is delighted that a human has joined them at ground level, and I'm lost in a blizzard of snouts and tails and paws as everbody except Tilley tries to lick my face. Tilley, (not her real name) has a bit of a taste for poop, and she thinks me holding that bag in the air is a special game just for her. 

Lucky for me, the other parents had by then caught up and pried the dog-pile off me.

I got up, brushed myself off, put on my hat one of the parents had recovered, and walked away like I'd meant to do it, still holding that bag in front of me.