WTF Dog Park People? Or, The Mystery of the Moronic Dog Owners

What is wrong with people at dog parks?

Not all, of course. My park is not technically a dog park. It's an open space, where, in control, off leash dogs are allowed. The majority of the dog/owner combos I run into are affable, social, Lab/Golden Retriever/Doodle/Laid Back Suburban Owner types.

As a matter of fact, Brockle tends to be the resident bad boy. He likes to periodically bolt, fly like the angel of death straight at some hapless innocent and roll them like a Firestone All Weather tire dropped down a  gully.

BUT.

Because he has this despicable behavior, he stays leashed the majority of the time and is going through some serious training. I only release him to play ball or work on his obedience and recall when the park is empty.

He spends lots of time on the long line, learning to resist temptation and tolerate the random "Don't worry, he's friendly," dogs who approach him anyway.

I accept that my dog is a bully. I understand his primary goal in life is to protect me, the second being to play soccer with the occasional King Charles Cavalier Spaniel. I keep him contained AND under control.

In return, I protect him. If a dog charges, I step in front of Brockle and shout "No! Bad Dog!" It has worked so far. Until yesterday.

I stopped at the open space on the way home from errands for a quick fetch.

There were no dogs, so we ran out and began. Brockle was keen on the ball and kept his focus, even when a man and his Airedale came into the park. They were a good 100 yards away. When I saw the Airedale coming at a run and the owner doing NOTHING I called Brockle in and put him on his leash.

He was awesome. He tolerated the rude young dog extremely well. I was proud. The owner arrived.

"Don't worry, he's friendly." he said.

"Mine isn't.  Your dog is lucky mine is well trained," I replied.

The owner said nothing.

We headed off in a different direction, putting enough distance between us to resume our game. I let Brockle off leash.

Zoom! Airedale came flying up behind us and yanked Brockle's ball right out of the thrower thingy, which I had just extended behind me.

"Erp!" I said.

 I kept my balance with the ever-graceful Parkinson's flying pinwheel. The Airedale turned and ran back to his owner with the ball, who still said NOTHING.

Brockle heard my squawk, tore past and nailed Don't Worry He's Friendly to the ground. Charlie joined in and they proceed to beat the crap out of DWHF. By the time I got there, Brockle had made his point, taken his ball and came to me.

I told them, "Good dog."

The owner said, "DWHF really likes balls."

His now terrified Airedale learned that bad things can happen at the dog park. He learned his owner will do absolutely nothing to help him. DWHF is now well on his way to the world of dog aggression.

We dusted that one off. I threw a few more times, then ran through some quick obedience to re-center Brockle and decided to leave.

With both dogs leashed, we approached my car. A woman with a BC, on-leash, and a man with a large Aussie, off-leash, were headed towards us on the same path.

I switched paths, I was done with socialization practice. Because of the Airedale incident I made the mistake of watching Brockle instead of the off-leash dog.

You guessed it. BAM! The Aussie came flying straight into us and I was caught in the middle of a huge dog fight. Brockle broke off and jumped behind me. He looked at me with the clearest "WTF?" I've ever seen.

I tried my dog blocking technique and yelled "No!" at the Aussie. He hesitated, then stepped around me, intent on Brockle, who threw all our hard earned dog tolerance out the window and launched at the enemy.

The Aussie's owner stepped in, grabbed his dog by the collar.

"Brockle, OFF!" I yelled.

Bless his pea-picking heart, he released and came to heel.

That jackass never said a thing, just drug his dog off.

I am done with the dog park. Done, done, done.

My dog is awesome.