A bizarre, but reassuring afternoon.

For those who might have missed the story yesterday, here's the synopsis: On Friday Jubilee bit another dog in defense. On Monday the owner verbally attacked me. I fled the park crying. I then wrote an apology letter that I planned to distribute today. Here's how it went down.



It was 4 p.m. and summer weather had returned to Northern California for the day. I had a brilliant plan in place: I would tie a folder containing my apology letters to the fence in the park, and I would book it out of there before anyone noticed me. I saw that the park was empty - SCORE! I furiously tied two knots into the string I brought and started to walk away.

I suddenly felt dead weight dragging on one end of my leash. Jubilee needed to go. I was not prepared for this, since she normally waits until she gets in the park. As soon as she finished I started walking toward the bag dispenser, but realized that Bruno decided to go as well. Two dogs, no bag. I went into full panic mode when I saw a man appear out of the corner of my eye to rummage a letter out of the folder and start reading.

"Well it seems to me that you did nothing wrong, little lady" he said. I stared at him hatefully - he was a complete stranger and that letter was not meant for him. He owned two Siberian Huskies and had never stepped foot in the small dog park. He had no idea who I am or what I wrote about.

"Well, to be fair, so did I," I admitted.

"So is the plan to drop off these letters and run?" he asked. I was about to answer when I felt a sob well up from my stomach. I choked it back but a tear slid down my cheek unexpectedly. "Aww honey I didn't mean to make you cry!" he said, mortified.

And that is how the dog park debacle began.

He forced me to take a walk with him until I felt better, talking about his service in the Army for 34 years and Brian's work in Central America. As it turns out, Lee as he is named, also dealt with drug interdiction but through the Army. He reassured me he wasn't hitting on me, flashing his beautiful gold wedding band, and I half-hiccuped and laughed through my embarrassment.



Our walk led us to Karen, the matriarch of the dog park. She introduced Brian and I to Newhall a year ago, and has always been one of the nicest women I know. I was planning to confirm that it was okay for me to hang the letter folder on the fence, but I completely lost my composure again and this time resorted to silent, shaking sobs rather than the annoying hiccuping ones from my conversation with Lee. Karen caught me up in a huge, comforting bear hug and I forced myself to stop within a few seconds. I was so embarrassed I wanted to die.

Clearly, I am a big ball of emotion today. I've been sick and there's a lot going on.

Karen immediately went into full protective Mama Hen mode and walked over to read the letter. She assured me that it was fine to leave them up, then proceeded to drill me for a description of the woman who verbally attacked me along with some exact quotes of what she said. I told her straightforwardly and without embellishment. I was beginning to feel better. After several hugs around the circle, I decided that I needed to leave before the crazy woman showed up.

What I've decided in speaking with the other owners is that I did nothing wrong. All the dogs at the park have bitten and nipped at others in defense, so what Jubilee did was not anyone's fault. They encouraged me to come back on Thursday after taking a day off to let the dust settle with the other woman, and reassured me that when I do come back, they will be there to defend me and let her know that she needs to back off.

Thank goodness for people who care. I came home immediately afterward because I've been sick all day, but I'm planning to work tomorrow and I feel a million times better after getting the rest and relief I needed today. What a hell of a week.