Tales from the Dog Park

Outside of work, the dog park accounts for a good portion of my human interaction these days. This may already be apparent by my most recent posts which are almost completely dog related (I'll work on some other topics). This is yet another observation of the interesting people behavior that takes place at the dog park.

The phenomenon that I've been noticing lately are the people who are snobs about their dog's playmates. Like little puppy socialites, they're only allowed to interact with a select few (if any) appropriately cute and calm canines. Yet these people are in a dog park at peak hours. Yes, I am confused too.

Not too long ago, there was one poor, unfortunate soul at the Boneyard (awesome dog park + bar) named Melo, which I can only assume was named after the Anthony, despite being a fluffy poodle or maltese. Melo's person was very diligent about keeping tabs on his whereabouts and was a little more vocal than the other Boneyard patrons quietly chatting amongst themselves. "Melo! Mel-o!" She'd yell from across the park, sounding a lot like Pablo Francisco impersonating woman. Although annoying, we all put up with it, pretending we didn't notice except for the sideways glances to each other. She blabbed about how her pets are her children and she's so protective of them; she doesn't like her dog being bothered by other dogs and would prefer that he didn't interact with them at all. Then things got a bit more intense. Melo is a male dog acting like a male dog. He sniffs other dogs and sticks his face in places people might find embarrassing... because he's a dog. Well, Melo's person was horrified by his actions. She ran across the park and pulled the dogs apart, declaring Melo's virginity. She insisted that due to his upstanding character, "he doesn't do things like that."

Whoa, lady. Melo's a dog, not a born again Christian. So sorry.

There were more antics and ridiculous statements, probably fueled by the cans of Keystone Light that the staff would later discover in the parking lot. I am proud to say that I kept my cool and didn't say a word, not one word... until she started it. 

Melo came over to Casey and I, where there also happened to be two large, vicious dogs (one a black lab) playing gently with maiming each other. They set their sights on the white, fluffy morsel just as Melo's person came to the rescue. "Hey, get away from him!" Pushing and shooing the face-licking, tail-wagging monsters away from her precious pup. "Um, excuse me. Make your dogs stop!" 

I'm pretty sure not even the first word came out of my mouth at a reasonable volume. It escalated to a full-on arm waiving, screaming match with a total stranger that ended something like: 

"Then leave if you can't handle it!" 

"I am!"

"Well, you're not moving; get out!"

"I'm going!"

Some of you might not even believe I would do this, and I want to note that I hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol during this visit (that might have helped the situation and kept me quiet a bit longer). Slightly embarrassed that staff came outside to assess the situation, I started to process what had just happened. Maybe I over reacted... but the people left and the bar staff seemed to think I was the least crazy of the two of us. This was good news. 

I still occasionally encounter and am stumped by the person who will bring their dog to the park only to obsess over preventing interactions with other dogs and people. Why?!

Maybe Will Smith was right, parents just don't understand.