Since Scarsdale has no actual dog park, sometimes that means you have to improvise. For instance, last week I made up a whole new verse to "Ain't Misbehavin" then ad-libbed a bass solo. Happy seemed unimpressed. He really just wanted a place to run. So I found a baseball field (location withheld) and let my dog go wild.

For some reason, even though he's never been on a baseball field before, Happy instinctively knew what to do first. Yep, that's right, he went right into contract negotiation. He wouldn't so much as move until I gave him a cookie. Then, he took off.

Within seconds, Hap had rounded first and stolen second. Being a retriever, however, he immediately brought it back. This prompted me to go over some of the fine points of the game. Stealing in baseball is totally cool, I told him. And makes you a hero. Unlike in the real world, where you recently stole Mrs. Herzfeld's lawn jockey. That only makes you a 'person of interest.' 

Now, not only were the base paths of this field beautifully-kept, but the outfield grass was special, too. Happy loved it. Every mouthful. I don't know what they sprayed on the grass, but it certainly had a tonic effect on the dog. When we got home, instead of tearing up the place, he just wanted to meditate in the lotus position. And he still gets weepy every time he hears the Cowsills sing "The Rain, The Park & Other Things."

While running around in the outfield, I wondered why so little Scarsdale and Rye town space was allotted to dogs. Sure, we need hospitals and stores, but, why not knock down a movie theatre and make a dog park? This idea might gain popular support, especially if you ask the folks who just paid 10 bucks to see "Life As We Know It."

But, really, what's the problem? Both in Scarsdale and Rye we let kids have tons of park space. Of course, there is the question of who was here first. According to the data I've read, the domesticated dog first appeared about 14,000 years ago. As for kids? Spend any time with them and you'll see they're still working on the domestication thing.

Of course, if you watch The 700 Club they will tell you that kids and dogs both appeared on Earth during the same week. And they were fully-dressed!

However you slice it, though, it seems that within the parks we have for children we should easily be able to fence off a park within the park for our four-legged friends. Yes, I know that does include some actual children. And I don't know what to say about that: Except, 'Ladies, you have to stop buying your fertility drugs at Walmart.' 

Still, if these kids have muzzles on, they can join us.

I thought about this long and hard as I took Happy to another ballfield in Rye (location also withheld). My dog ran the bases. He sampled the outfield grass. He even stood on the mound and acted like a true pitcher, meaning every time I signaled him to come, he shook me off. 

Before we had really settled in, some official-looking guy appeared and yelled at my dog and me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

At first, I was certain this was the groundskeeper just asking a simple question. But the longer I thought about it, the terrible existential nature of it put me in a spin. 

"I'll be honest," I said. "I have no idea what I am doing."

And with that, I leashed up my dog. I decided, for the moment, to table any more thoughts about places for Happy to run. And to the relief of this strange park man and myself, I began the long walk back home.

Peter Gerstenzang is a freelance videographer and entertainment and humor writer based in Rye. His column, Happy Mondays, is about life with his golden retriever. It appears Mondays on both Rye Patch and Scarsdale Patch.