This week something utterly embarrassing happened to us, forcing me to write this letter.

I’ll be  handing out copies of it at my daughter’s next ball game, should the incident repeat itself.

Sam the Springer SpanielBackstory: We have a new family member.  He is a fun-loving, face-licking, ball-chasing Springer Spaniel puppy named Sam.  We like to take him with us when we can, and on this night we chose to take him to our daughter’s baseball game. He’s sweet, loves everyone, and loves to be wherever we go.  But on that night we learned a very valuable lesson.  When a dog has to go, a dog has to go.  And he doesn’t really care who his audience is.

Dear folks who attended tonight’s ball game,

It was so great to see you tonight!  It’s great to see how the kids are improving with each game, isn’t it?  

Like you, we like to make our trips to the ball park a “family affair” – so for your entertainment we brought our new puppy Sam with us.  He loves meeting new people and especially loves to goof off with kids, so we knew he would fit right in.  

Usually we like to take him out of his crate and play with him outside as soon as we get home so that he can take care of his “business” before we come to the park.  We really tried, but on this day we were all running late and were doing good to make it to the game on time, so he wasn’t able to do number 2 before we came to the park.  

For this we are truly sorry.  

We had no idea that sweet little Sam could make such a big messy pile of poo.  

We are used to the little puppy piles that we scoop in our yard.  

We definitely weren’t expecting the “big boy” pile that he left tonight at the ballpark, a few feet behind the dugout.  

Yes, I was technically ready with my baggies and paper towels.  I just wasn’t emotionally ready for the walk(s) of shame that I would have to take: first to the car, then to the steamy pile, and then to the garbage can.  Bending over with my re-purposed grocery sack.  Praying that I could grab it all in one try.  Kicking myself for giving him the jerky treat at lunch.  Going back with the paper towels to try to blot up the big smear in the grass.  Then having to stand guard over the spot so that nobody walked over it.  Scared to make eye contact with any of you.  I wasn’t trying to be anti-social, standing so far away from the bleachers and the adult mom-to-mom conversation that I had looked forward to all day.  I was protecting you.  

From now on we will try to limit his jerky intake and keep him further away until he is able to take care of business.  And bring a tennis ball.  Maybe his overwhelming cuteness will make you forget what you just saw.  

Thank you for understanding,

Emalee’s Mom


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