Danger In The Dog Park

It’s tough enough to keep a careful eye on your pets at the park; don’t let them bug other dogs or owners, watch out for them around unruly hounds, be diligent about poop scoop duty. And I’ve written before about other risks that can confront the unsuspecting pet parent. Well now, it seems, we must develop some proficiency in the art of self-defense in order to protect life, limb and hound. No, I’m not talking about fending off dangerous dogs, but their rabid owners. Here’s what I’m talking about.

Twice in a matter of days recently I’ve had seriously unpleasant altercations with freaked-out owners at the dog park. The latter incident was so disturbing that I immediately went out and got myself a super dooper pepper shooter under the assumption that armed would make me equally as dangerous (only in a defensive way, of course) as the freak who was threatening me.

The first occurrence was relatively minor. A whacky woman with two rough and tough Staffordshire Bull Terriers (and I love the breed but they’re powerful animals and need a firm hand) was in an argument with a guy because her dogs had been getting aggressive with the guy’s pooch. Actually, the guy was being extremely pleasant and patient while whacko-woman was yelling that it was his fault because he should have had his dog on a lead (I didn’t say there was any logic in her argument). Anyway, I’d been keeping my distance but as Whacko departed the park she decided to exude venom on me. Next thing I know she’s a shrieking wildcat spewing invective and telling me she’s going to beat the c–p out of me! Not caring to deal with c–p beating or the woman’s verbal c–p I decided the prudent thing was to walk away.

The second incident was decidedly more unnerving. There’s a guy who frequently brings his abundantly bouncy, always disruptive, extremely annoying and totally-out-of-control dog to the park. In spite of that, I don’t dislike the dog! He’s happy, good-natured and it’s not his fault that his owner can’t handle him. The owner, however, is a different breed of animal altogether. There’s something wrong with him – seriously, there is!

Usually this guy takes his hound into the small dog park where he walks around for 10 minutes muttering to himself then, long before the poor dog has had a chance to run off steam, he leaves. On the morning in question the small park was occupied with, well, small dogs. So bouncy Bucky and his odd owner had to run with the big boys.

There were three of us with our pets in the park at the time and as soon as Bucky entered he was all over all of us, nearly knocking down one woman who is pregnant. I figured I’d get out of the way and take my canines to the other end of the park. Bucky, of course, decided to bound along with us, exuberantly jumping at me, terrifying my toy poodle, Coco, who was squealing at the top of her lungs as I kept pulling Bucky off her and forcing me to carry her in an effort to keep her out of the caroming canine’s way.

Throughout all of this, the owner kept his distance and totally ignored the fracas, which is what annoyed me most of all.

Eventually, Bucky turned his attention to Angel and that was fine with me as she obligingly played chase with him. Then the dynamics changed.

Angel and Bucky started wrestling. ‘Though the dogs were well-matched, I called Angel away. (I’m always mindful that some owners get panicky at any seemingly rough play). Not surprisingly, Bucky immediately jumped on Angel again, so again I called her away. Ditto Bucky’s reaction. Suddenly, bellowed across the park, I hear “Angel’s going to get a pounding”. From out of his cocoon of inattention, here comes the owner from hell.

I thought I must have misheard and muttered a startled, “Excuse me?”, at which point Super Freak stuck his face in my space and screeched “Angel’s going to get a pounding. Do you hear me?”. Considering my deaf granny could have heard him a mile away above a roaring freight train it seemed sensible to respond with a simple “Yes” and try and initiate a reasonable discourse at a more comfortable decibel level. Well, that didn’t get beyond about three words before the situation accelerated into a verbal cacophony of abuse and threats to my dog and to me.

I have to tell you, at this point I wasn’t scared, I was way too angry. But I looked into SF’s eyes (they were, after all, only about six inches from mine), saw dilated pupils, then noticed dried food around his mouth (yeah, it was pretty gross) and realized I was facing either alcoholic or drug-induced and barely pent-up rage, and I didn’t want to be the final trigger that would set it loose. So I remained passive and tried to ease myself away and head to the exit. Of course, Super Freak followed me, shrieking all the time, but then took Bucky and left the park ahead of me.

It took a while for my own anger to subside and, you know, it was only then that I began to realize how dangerously volatile the situation had been and to consider how easily things could get out of hand another time. I’m a 55-year-old woman with, sometimes, debilitating health issues. The only threat my pooches could pose to another human being is licking them to death. And it’s not unusual for me to be alone with my dogs at the park. That makes me pretty vulnerable!

So that’s when I decided to empower myself with a weapon. I may not be lethal but I can certainly inflict damage, and will, if necessary.

It turns out I’m not the only one Super Freak has threatened and there have been other problems with him at the park in the past couple of days, so it seems that his condition could be escalating. But now I’m wondering, is this a sign of the times? Are these weirdos actually people who have lost their jobs, their homes……? Are more people going to be “losing it” and posing a threat to others? Certainly, I’m being more cautious and trying to be more aware in my every day dealings with people, though it’s their pets I really feel badly for. I mean, what about Bucky? Is he going to take the brunt of his owner’s ire one of these days? He got loose from SF a couple of days ago, so I’m told. When SF finally got hold of him he hurled him roughly into the car. He hasn’t been seen since so who knows if Bucky is OK.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not uncaring about the dire circumstances some people are finding themselves in these days. However, that’s absolutely no excuse for inflicting harm on anyone else or on any pets.

“There is no fundamental difference between man and the higher animals in their mental faculties… The lower animals, like man, manifestly feel pleasure and pain, happiness and misery” ~ Charles Darwin