09/17/2026
I don’t like dog parks.
There. I said it.
It's not because every dog has a terrible time in one.
And not because every dog park is a rolling tumbleweed of fur and teeth.
I don’t like them because I see what they can do.
I see the dog who starts scrambling on the ground, crawling and scratching the footpath to get close to a dog.
And that dog could be 80 metres away.
There are dogs who have practised rushing over to others so many times that calmly walking near any dog is pretty impossible.
And there's more.
The dog who discovers that chasing a dog is the highest of highs.
How about a dog who's small “I’m uncomfortable” signals repeatedly achieve absolutely nothing.
Totally ignored.
And this dog has learned that creating distance now requires something much, much bigger now.
And then there’s the dog who has learned they are free to come and go around other dogs as they please.
Until we put a lead on.
Now they can see another dog.
But they can’t get to them.
And then we have frustration, pulling, fixation, lunging and huge reactions that people say "came from nowhere".
Except they didn’t .
That’s the bit I think gets missed in the dog park conversation.
We tend to judge the experience by what happens INSIDE the park.
Did they play?
Did they run?
Did they have fun?
Was there a fight?
Yes, yes, yes, no.
Great.
But I’m always seeing that link, of what that experience is teaching a dog to expect the next time they see another dog.
I wish those experiences stayed conveniently inside the fence.
I’m not saying every visit to a dog park creates reactivity.
Of course it doesn’t.
But when I’m working with reactivity, frustration around other dogs, inappropriate play, rushing, fixation or dogs who struggle enormously when access to another dog is prevented?
Dog parks are more often than not the way these dogs "get their energy out" and are "socialised".
And that is a very, very long road that family is now on.
So yeah.
I don’t like dog parks.
