Let Your Dog Tell You If They Want to Go to a Dog Park

Dogs parks aren't all bad, actually

"...we take issue of the tone and heavy-handedness of this article ["The Dog Park Is Bad, Actually."]—the main takeaway is that dog parks are teaming with dog fights, careless owners and rife with disease! That has not been our experience. In fact, despite at times the presence of an irresponsible owner and unruly dog, most off-leash areas we’ve frequented for three decades are relatively incident free." —Editors of Bark magazine

Yesterday afternoon I learned about a New York Times essay by Sassafras Lowrey called "The Dog Park Is Bad, Actually." The subtitle reads, "Dog parks may seem like great additions to the community, but they’re rife with problems—for you, and for your dog. Here’s what to know before you go." The moment I saw the eye-catching, hyped-up title, many warning flags started flying, and my own deep concerns were supported, and continue to be supported, by emails pouring into my inbox.¹

Ms. Lowrey's essay is available online, so here are some concerns about some of the myths that are offered. Having spent a good deal of time at many different dog parks that greatly differ, I wondered how many different dog parks Ms. Lowrey actually visited, how much time she spent at each of them, and what sorts of information she collected by watching dogs and talking with their humans.

Some of my and others' experiences and research are summarized in a piece called "Dog Parks Can Be Fun Places to Go, but the Dog Has to Agree" and in Canine Confidential. Not surprisingly, opinions go all over the place, and it turns out that all dog parks actually aren't all bad. Some people love dog parks, and some hate them, and some dogs love dog parks, and some don't. But it's the dog's opinion that counts, so it's important to understand what each individual dog wants and needs and to listen to them very carefully.

Some words of caution

First off, there is no "the" dog park. Dog parks vary greatly. Each dog park has a unique identity—its own personality, if you will—that reflects the culture and attitudes of the locals or regulars. Even within a small city like Boulder, there are differences among dog parks.

Second, there is no "the" dog. Dogs clearly vary greatly in temperament and personality, and there's no universal, prototypical dog. Normative generalizations simply do not reflect the diversity of who dogs truly are. How boring it would be if they were all alike.

In Ms. Lowrey's essay, we also read,

"Especially for urban dogs that don’t have backyards to exercise in, dog parks can sound like a great idea. There is nothing natural, however, about dogs that aren’t familiar with one another to be put in large groups and expected to play together. Many of us just accept the assumption that dog parks are good places to socialize a dog, but that may not be the case."

Because it's estimated that only around 15-25 percent of dogs in the world—estimated to be around 900 million—are "homed" individuals, it's rather natural for millions upon millions of dogs to decide with whom they'll interact, and they often play and get along very well with one another and with people.

There's also a discussion about socialization in a section called "The socialization myth." While there's some useful food for thought, it's loaded with over-generalizations and ignores individual differences among dogs, dog-human relationships, and what the process of socialization is all about. If a dog is to become "a card-carrying dog," it would be good for them to have many different sorts of interactions with males and females, dogs and humans, of all sizes, ages, and personalities.

We also read about "playground bullies" and "injuries." Yes, some dogs can be bullies, and it's essential for their humans to control them and not allow them to push around other dogs and people. Along these lines, we're told, "From minor scuffles to serious incidents, injuries are common at dog parks."

While I know of no systematic studies centering on the claim that injuries are common at dog parks, it's essential to recognize that the rate at which rough-and-tumble play actually escalates into serious aggression is remarkably low, because many people misread frenetic play as bordering on or being real aggression.

For example, Melissa Shyan and her colleagues reported that fewer than 0.5 percent of play fights in dogs developed into conflict, and only half of these were clearly aggressive encounters. Their data agree with our own observations on wild coyotes and free-running dogs at play. (See "When Dogs Play, They Follow the Golden Rules of Fairness.") In one very detailed study of the social behavior of dogs at a dog park, serious aggression was never observed. (See also "What's Happening When Dogs Play Tug-of-War? Dog Park Chatter.")

If you enjoy going to a dog park, allow the dog to tell you whether they also enjoy it

It's important not only to learn about dog-dog interactions but also dog-human and human-human interactions at dog parks. Many so-called dog problems really are people problems and problems of "dog parenting."

We really don’t know all that much about the dynamics of control and freedom at dog parks. At the conclusion of a thoughtful essay called "Situated Activities in a Dog Park: Identity and Conflict in Human-Animal Space," Sonoma State University professor Patrick Jackson writes, “This study suggests that dog parks not only provide insight into canine behavior but also into human-animal and human-human interaction. Thus, while dog parks may appear as urban playgrounds for dogs, the interactions that take place there have implications that extend far beyond the fence that defines their boundary.”²

Being a naturalist at a dog park and becoming "fluent in dog" can be a win-win for dogs and their humans

"On a good day, if the dog park you visit is large enough, it may physically tire out your dog. But the visit won’t actually provide your dog with the kind of enriching mental and emotional stimulation that dogs need. Dog parks, unfortunately, are often more about humans than they are about dogs." —Sassafras Lowrey

"Considering the high incidence of under-enriched and under-socialized frustrated dogs, scaring people away from parks instead of guiding them on how to use them wisely seems counter-productive." —Amanda Dwyer

"This sweeping condemnation of dog parks is inane and ill-informed." —Maria Santos

"[Your essay is] a needed correction to perspectives that may be and are limited to time, place, and strictly human interpretations." —Patrick Jackson

All in all, there's no inherent reason why dog parks always are "bad places" for dogs. The bottom line is a simple one, namely, if a dog enjoys going to meet his friends, other dogs, and perhaps other humans at a dog park, take them there. And if they don't, don't go unless you go on your own, which also can be a very pleasant experience.

I was thrilled when someone who "used to drag his dog to the dog park" came to realize that he could go on his own and have a great time without "putting his dog through hell." I also really like to see local trainers hanging out at dog parks and watching the dogs do what they do. Sometimes we have valuable discussions about different aspects of dog behavior when they're relatively free "to be dogs."

Why go to a dog park if it doesn’t benefit the dog? I couldn't disagree more with the claim, "The visit won’t actually provide your dog with the kind of enriching mental and emotional stimulation that dogs need."

While it might not for some dogs, the vast majority of the numerous dogs with whom I'm familiar get the enriching and emotional stimulation they want and need and much more. Just watch them as the car they're in gets close to their dog park and their gleeful reactions when they run to the gate. Their exuberance as they zoom here and there is contagious, and often, when they're told they have to leave, they do everything possible to avoid it, including engaging in more "zoomies" either alone or with others.

Ms. Lowrey concludes, "There is no shame in not surrendering your dog to what has become the quintessential urban dog experience: running with dozens of strangers in a small, smelly pen as people stand by, looking at their phones or gossiping. Make the time you have with your dog meaningful and enriching; after all, your dog wants to spend time with you, too."

Numerous dog parks aren't small, smelly pens, and even if some are, we need to ask, smelly to whom? Let's not forget that dogs have radically different senses of smell, and what we find disgusting, they likely savor. (See "Dogs: An Exciting Journey Through Their Sensory Worlds.") A dog who's well-cared for can have it all—quality time with other dogs and quality time with many different people at dog parks and elsewhere.

I don't doubt Ms. Lowrey's good intentions. However, I encourage readers to beware of the over-arching generalizations she offers, because they don't take into account the enormous ways in which dog parks and dogs differ and the huge variations in dog-dog and dog-human relationships. Along these lines, keep in mind that two detailed studies conducted at different times at the same dog park in St. Johns, Newfoundland yielded different results.

"Also, suggesting that all or even most dog parks are "bad" is as ludicrous as saying that all dogs love to play—they don't—or that we shouldn't hug dogs—some like it, and some don't—and we need to respect each and every individual dog and honor what they like and don't like."

One way to make better decisions is to become fluent in dog—dog literate—and pay close attention to your dog as the individual they truly are. Dog parks can be wonderful places to conduct formal research and citizen science. They can be an ethologist's dream. (See, for example, "Social Behavior of Dogs at an Off-Leash Park in Newfoundland" and "Butts and Noses: Secrets and Lessons from Dog Parks.")

As in all interactions between humans and dogs, we must take into account the dog's point of view—what they want and need—and listen to them very carefully. Let your dog tell you what they want to do and what they're feeling. Let them have a say about the situation at hand. And let them be dogs and engage in dog-appropriate behaviors as much as possible. (See, "For Dogs, Helicopter Humans Don't Balance Scolds and Praise.")

Nothing is gained, and a lot is lost, when we selfishly impose our wishes and desires on our canine companions. When we allow them to state their opinions and accept what they're telling us, it's a win-win for all.