An open letter to the owner of a friendly off-leash dog
An open letter to the owner of a friendly off-leash dog
Your dog is adorable.
What a joy to see him running free and taking in the world! I loved the way he asked you to play with him earlier, slamming his elbows down, wagging his tail in a perfect bow. I smiled when he cleared that tree branch on his way back with the ball.
I’m glad you two have each other. I can feel your happiness all the way over here.
But my dog is scared.
She’s been attacked by other dogs in the past. She doesn’t want to say hi (yes, even if your pup truly is the friendliest guy in the whole world). She might look okay by my side, quietly keeping an eye on you across the field, playing tug with our own toy—but only because we’ve put in thousands of hours training to improve her confidence and build her impulse control.
I’m proud of her after all this work. I trust her to keep it together.
But I’m not sure if I can trust you.
How could I be? I’ve never met you. I don’t know if your dog has a solid recall or not. I don’t know if you’ll try to call him back if he starts angling to say hello.
And those unknowns make it impossible for me and my girl to enjoy our time here today the same way you and your guy are.
It’s not that I don’t think your dog is lovely. It’s not that I don’t want our companions to get the chance to run free, to feel the wind in their ears, to chase toys and prey and the simple pleasure of moving their bodies. Those experiences are some of the best things in the world!
But this environment, this trail, this park, requires all dogs to be leashed. It’s why we came here. In a spot with leash laws, my nervous dog should be able to have a better time not worrying about being approached by a dog we don’t know. We should have the opportunity to refine our training so we can keep conquering more challenges. We shouldn’t have to keep our peripheral vision tracking your movements and our brains running through how we’ll respond if your dog does run up to us.
But that’s what we’re doing now.
Wondering if we should just leave, maybe, before there can be any conflict? Feeling torn between cheering for the great time you’re having with your best friend… and discouraged it’s preventing us from doing the same.
And I get why you’ve decided to unclip the leash. I really do. It can feel so innocuous. I mean, your dog is social! What harm can he cause?
Growing up I used to let my family’s dogs run up to strangers without a second thought. I didn’t understand how it could be a problem… until I met some people and pets who were scared. Who were allergic. Who were in training. Even then, the idea that friendly dogs could make a shared public space uncomfortable didn’t really get through my head until I started navigating the world with a fearful dog of my own.
Trying to help her feel safe and have fun and grow brave has opened my eyes to so much I used to miss.
Maybe no one has ever told you this before. Nobody’s asked you if you could please leash your dog. It might be that you’ve encountered excited animal lovers who are okay with a greeting. (That’s great luck!) But it might also be that some people who aren’t comfortable don’t know how to say so.
Maybe they’re afraid of offending you, of starting an argument, of ruining everyone’s day.
I’ve been there before.
So what am I asking of you? Well, to know how lovely I think your pup is. To hear it from one dog person to another. To share a little smile. To trust I’m not saying any of this because I don’t like you, or because I don’t like your dog, or because I want to squash anyone’s fun.
And second… It would mean so much to us—to me and my nervous dog—if you’d use some sort of leash in environments that call for it. They make long lines that can still give your dog some space to run while showing other people he’s under your control. A retractable can let him sniff ahead while enabling you to step in before he approaches anyone else. Any tether, really, can help us feel more able to safely share this space with you!
All the best to you and your companion, from me and mine.