Be careful who or what you name your dog for. Case in point:

Oct 5, 2014; Foxborough, MA, USA; New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady (12) on the field before the start of the game against the Cincinnati Bengals at Gillette Stadium. Mandatory Credit: David Butler II-USA TODAY Sports

I’ve made no secret of Brady’s hot-headedness nor his lack of patience for dumb handler moves. Brady deserves full credit for the fact that I’ve become a better handler. Sadly for him, and painfully for me, I’m still a work in progress.

Today, we came to the conclusion of a new world record.

A world record in my world and a world record since playing agility with Brady.

I’ve gone nearly the entire summer without being nipped.

That ended today.

At least it was during a private session with our Relationship Counselor.

Whoa! Did The Relationship Counselor know this happened? How good is The Relationship Counselor if she can’t save one of her disciples from being domestically abused?

First of all, it happened in an instant. Literally. Secondly, a tug toy had just been in play and how was either I or The Relationship Counselor to know if it was an accident, or not? Except the tug toy was on the ground at my feet and the nip was directed at my shin, several inches to the diagonal above the tug toy.

I’ll admit, I was confused and at a bit of a loss. I told The Relationship Counselor so and opted to err on the side of forgiveness. It must’ve been a mistake!

But it wasn’t. Oh no siree. It was very deliberate. It just took my much slower human brain much longer to process exactly what happened.

I was working on building more distance skills with Brady and Youke today. Because Youke is pretty much The Best Dog of All Time, it was a super fun session and he worked his little heart, and brain, out.

Brady actually has some very solid foundation skills in this respect and the session was also very good.

However, it drives him bonkers when I walk while he is performing weaves. It is a great source of angst. The Relationship Counselor has made me see it is not so much the walk as it is the slowing down or speeding up that drives him berserk. If I maintain a steady pace, whether a run, skip or walk, he’s fine.

In today’s session, I started out at a walk as he entered the weaves, and was practically crawling as he neared the end. This caused him to creep forward through the last four weaves, head down, staring at me.

I made the mistake of laughing. I did not pay attention to the very large “fuck you” that followed the stare.

The Relationship Counselor proceeded to show me a better way to handle the sequence. Although I now realize he was silently swearing at me as she was helping me, I wasn’t paying attention at the time. I went to gather Brady up to re-work the sequence and he hit me in the shin. With his teeth.

“Did he just bite you?!” exclaimed The Counselor.

“I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully. “I think he was going for the toy,” I said, even then, I was doubtful. “I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

I then worked the sequence with him. Perfectly I might add and with emphasis and firm intent. The emphasis and firm intent was because as I was taking him through the short sequence, I was becoming extremely pissed off. Motherfucker hurt!

The Relationship Session aka agility lesson ended on this good note. Brady was quite pleased with himself and pranced back to the kennel to wait to be leashed up. As The Relationship Counselor and I talked a few minutes about a few minor details, I started feeling something trickling down my leg.

I knew I had not peed my pants as 1) I went just after I arrived for the lesson, 2) I am not yet wearing Depends and have no bladder leakage issues, and 3) I had not just splashed in some water.

I decided not to call attention to what I knew was going on as 1) The Relationship Counselor is very squeamish, and 2) I did not want to be responsible for her passing out, especially as another student had just arrived on scene. Also, as discovered from a past incident, The Relationship Counselor stocks only tiny inadequate band aids.

However, as I bent down to clip on Brady’s leash I took a quick glance and saw bright red blood running profusely down my leg and pooling into my bright blue sneaker.

Yay. Another Curt Schilling  Moment, courtesy of Brady. Not the first. And unfortunately, probably not the last.

I wiped up the blood as best as I could when I got up to my vehicle and proceeded to still take the boys swimming as planned. I contemplated washing the wound out in the water at the lake, but we were in a sort of swampy area and there were small children on the fishing dock. No need to scare the children with my gaping wound.

When I got home, Jasmine and Camm greeted me and immediately issued their concerns. Both followed me into the bathroom as I cleaned up the dried and caked blood and washed out the bite, applied antiseptic solution and placed a large square bandage over it.. I could barely move in fact as both of my nurses were gravely concerned. Even Youke, stayed at the periphery.

You know who wasn’t concerned and instead was downstairs rearranging pillows on the loveseat as he bounced around with a toy in his mouth?

Brady only realized something was wrong when he went to give me his after-dinner hump.

“Hey there! You know you have some blood on you? Did you get hurt mom?”

Fuckhead.

Good thing I adore him.