Last weekend my mom took my boys and me on a fun little trip to Sun Valley/Hailey here in beautiful Idaho. After we checked into our hotel--which was wonderful in every respect except that our room smelled powerfully of men's cologne and oh yeah, nobody in our room seemed to be able to sleep well--we went in search of the wonderful park the hotel manager had recommended to us.
It was a really cool park. Picture a wooden fortress with plenty of corners, crannies, towers, bridges and slides. Chains and ladders to climb. A big wooden airplane and choo-choo engine with steering wheels. Tire swing, baby swings and all swings in between. Charlie told me he was going to go exploring. And off he went.
It was great fun. Johnny didn't want to get out of the large orange swing that looked more like a recliner than anything. But he did play in the sand area long enough to get his hair fully coated with the stuff.
Our first visit to the park was uneventful. There were one or two adults playing fetch with their dogs in the grassy area outside the playground section. My mom and I noted that Hailey was no different than Boise--despite obvious signs requiring dogs to be on leash in this park, the dogs were running free. No surprise really. I know a dog needs to run and catch a ball now and then.
The boys really wanted to go back to this same park the next day. More exploring to be done, clearly. Charlie was feeling daring enough to go on the tire swing and didn't want to miss his chance.
When we arrived this second time, we immediately noticed that there were lots of other kids there. And lots more dogs. My mom grumbled about the dogs, but I didn't pay much attention to them until my mom pointed out that the dogs were right in with the playground equipment. Great. With two kids who are terrified of dogs, this could be a short park trip. But I didn't really think much more of it.
Charlie ran off to fly airplane for a bit and I stood close to Johnny while he tried to climb the chains. I looked up after a minute to put my eye on Charlie. He had started to climb some steps of the fortress. I watched from probably 30 feet away as a large dog following him up the steps. I began walking over there and by the time I was halfway there, Charlie was crying and running away from the dog that was following him everywhere he went on the playground equipment. No dog owner was paying the slightest bit of attention, so as I walked toward my terrified, traumatized child, I put my arms out and called
"Whose dog is that?" It was still hot on Charlie's trail as he tried to get away.
A woman spoke up to claim the dog. I said, as calmly as I could, "Could you please keep your dog off the children's play equipment?"
"You bet," she said, and apologized as she grabbed her dog. I still hadn't made it over to where Charlie was now actually cowering behind one of the poles of the swings even though the dog wasn't near him anymore.
As I past the women and her dog, I said, as calmly as I could, "I'm sorry, it's just that he's terrified of dogs and I feel like he ought to be safe on the children's playground." I am still wishing I hadn't said "I'm sorry" to her at all. I had nothing to apologize for.
She said, "Absolutely" and apologized again. She was very gracious about it. I'm sure she could see how angry I was.
I comforted my crying child and he got over it pretty quickly when I reminded him he hadn't tried the tire swing yet. The woman took her dog over to some other adults at the edge of the playground and gave one of them his leash.
It took me a little longer to recover. Charlie played happily after the doggie was sidelined, but I still felt angry. I'm pretty sure the experience made me angrier than it would have if it weren't for the fact that Charlie's fear of dogs originates from a similar experience when he was two.
We were at a tiny playground in a nearby neighborhood. A young girl had her German Shepherd with her on the equipment and was trying to get him to go down the slides. I didn't like this. The little girl was friendly and her dog was, too. Charlie seemed comfortable around the dog and the dog seemed very calm--just tolerating the little girl's play. So I thought nothing of it when the girl led the dog up to the main platform on the playground equipment and Charlie followed trying to climb to the slide. Next thing I know, this dog, which was larger than Charlie, was covering Charlie's face with his tongue. Licking like crazy. And Charlie was wailing.
From that moment on, Charlie wants nothing to do with dogs. He generally stays as far from them as possible.
Ok, so a little girl can't necessarily be expected to realize how stupid it is to put your large dog on the slide platform. But a mother with her kids at the park doesn't realize she shouldn't allow her dog to roam freely up and down the playground equipment?
I'm trying not to rant here, but this brings up so many issues for me. Issues I have with people's behavior with their dogs. I know people love their dogs, but many that I come in contact with cannot seem to comprehend the idea that not everyone else does. It doesn't cross their minds that just because they believe they know how their dog will act around children, it doesn't mean that I can have any confidence or trust in the dog. Even if my children weren't afraid of dogs, it wouldn't mean that I would automatically trust any dog in the park to be safe for my children to play beside. I don't love your dog. I don't know your dog.
I don't want my children to be afraid of dogs. I realize that my attitudes toward the prevailing dog culture is not going to help much, which is why I have tried to always be calm and positive about dogs within their earshot. I do sometimes fail at that. I also try to have Jeremy, who has a more positive feeling toward dogs, interact with dogs near the boys whenever possible. My sister-in-law Michelle is good about trying to give my boys positive dog experiences to help them past their fears, and I see some hope for Johnny once he gets big enough to not be intimidated by the size of most dogs he encounters. But beyond that, it's not that important to me that my boys like or care about dogs. Strangely enough, there are many other things I give priority to as I try to teach them and raise them.
As we were leaving the park in Hailey for the last time, we saw another woman purposely inviting her dog up to the playground platforms, having him climb up in various ways. She was "playing" with him on the play equipment. And I wondered and worried about a future where there is no such thing as a "No Dogs Allowed" rule. Will there one day be no more places that are just for children?
3 comments:
Yeah!
I am a mega dog lover, but I totally agree with you. It makes me uncomfortable to be at the park or going on a walk and seeing a stray dog. I'm sure most of them are pretty nice and tame, but it's not worth the risk! (I know you are oober adverse to people-dog comparisons, but this one I don't think you'll mind too much). Strange man follows my kid around - so not okay with that. Strange dog follows my kid around: dog no speaky english, dog had sharp claws and big teeth, dog could give my child diseases (if not something worse) etc. These were never things I thought about until I had a child. And I can understand not thinking about it if your dog is "good with kids". But even still, i don't trust them, yes even Nikki and Chester are on that list. They are an animal, you never know how they'll react.... why am I still typing this?
Summary: I'm a dog lover and I totally know where you're coming from.
Karen wants to get not one dog, but two. I do not. She will move out when she can, so she can have as many dogs as she wants. That shows you where her priorities are--dogs over people any day!
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