I’m standing at the water fountain at the entrance to a San Francisco dog park, giving my Scottish Deerhound, Rawley, a drink. We’re right next to the parking lot.
A Lab mix comes flying across the field, a distance of around two city blocks.
The owner of the Lab mix runs toward us from the other end of the field, shouting, “Arden! Come! Right now! Come! Get over here! Arden! I mean it! RIGHT NOW! Come! Stop it! Leave him alone….”
Her voice becomes more breathless because she’s shouting and running; her dog has been ignoring her all along in favor of giving all his attention to Rawley.
“I told you to come…” she continued.
I’d snapped on Rawley’s leash when I saw the owner had no control of her dog. He’d already had his walk, so he was quiet.
The Lab mix started out okay, but as he sniffed Rawley, he became a little more assertive. He went up on the balls of his feet. He stood straighter. If he’d been human, I’d have said he narrowed his eyes. Maybe he did.
I moved away, toward my car, Rawley with me.
The Lab mix jumped on Rawley and tried to hump him.
I moved away, but the Lab mix jumped down, then back on.
His breathless owner finally arrived, and took a look at the situation — i.e., my dog doing nothing whatsoever, her dog running away from her, ignoring everything she said, and then bothering my leashed, quiet dog in a really annoying way. What do you suppose she says?
“Oh! He’s intact!” Then she glares at me. “Why isn’t he neutered yet?”
You know what, lady? My dog’s testicles are not your dog’s “get out of jail free” card for running away from you, ignoring your commands, and hassling another dog.
Cutting off my dog’s testicles will not miraculously turn your dog’s hearing back on. Nor is sniffing my intact dog’s Very Special Scent the only irresistible activity your dog will ever wish to engage in against your wishes. I mean, what if Rawley had been on the other side of a busy road?
In short, the problem is not my dog’s balls. The problem is you, and the fact that your dog is not trained.
This happened not long before Christmas. Since then, I had Rawley neutered, primarily to make his life in this city full of untrained dogs and their obnoxious owners a bit more pleasant for him. I have a lot of regrets about doing it, and if he has health problems because of it, I know I’ll have a hard time forgiving myself, but I didn’t see too much choice at the time.
And it definitely did reduce the number of dogs who find Rawley’s mere presence at the park to be cause for mayhem down to manageable levels (although not to zero, because apparently the fact that he’s way bigger than they are is also an issue).
I know it’s a dream I’ll never see come true, but you know what I’d like?
A world where people socialize their dogs around both intact and altered dogs, so dogs understand this is something normal in the canine universe they inhabit. Because people acting as if the parts our dogs are born with are a disease or a badge of irresponsible pet ownership is my least favorite thing about modern American dog culture.
/futile
Photo: Rawley: “See how good I am?”
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