When Fuji (my Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever) turned two, I lovingly picked out what I believed to be the perfect gift. It seemed sturdy, squeaky, and fun. Sturdy being the quality I look for most when choosing toys for the boys.
Turns out, it wasn’t quite sturdy enough to last one hour.
Ugh.
Did I mention it wasn’t cheap?
I never had human children, so I never had to teach a young person the art of the apology. And dogs—not speaking our language—have no need for that particular skill. Even though friends of mine will describe a look they get from their dog when they come home to some form of destruction, I’m skeptical that dogs have the capacity for guilt.
But I digress.
In a world where we are urged to “Live Unapologetically” and the hashtag #SorryNotSorry reigns supreme, I’m an over-apologizer. As someone who tends to speak my mind more often than not, being able to apologize has served me well. On the other hand, “sorry” seems to be my default if anything goes wrong, regardless of whether I’m actually to blame.