It used to be my favorite part of the day. Getting up just after sunrise, make the coffee, wrangle a very excited Stella into the car, and head to the dog park before the morning dew burns off the grass. She would romp and play, bow and wrestle for the better part of an hour, before my coffee went cold and it was time to go home. Afterwards, she slept soundly in a tight ball on the bed, just napping the day away. I got to work uninterrupted, and Stella seemed perfectly content to just hang out until our evening adventure. This went on for a long time- lots of people told me I was lucky to have the type of dog who can enjoy a dog park. I was really proud of her- this big, clumsy German Shepherd playing alongside Frenchies and Mastiffs alike. Lots of people asked me what breed she was, simply because they'd never seen a GSD play the way she does- which is, in the best way I can describe it- clumsily unhinged.
I loved the dog park too- getting to meet new people, talk unabashedly about hand-me-down remedies for weepy eyes, the runs, and stinky fur. She made lots of friends and I made a few, those kind of relationships that start out with a nod from across the park, but after so many times of their dog humping mine, we broke the awkward ice and got to know each other. It was something I looked forward to everyday.
After about three months of this, we had fallen into our regular routine. Get up, make the coffee, get in the car, drive, and unleash the beast. Rinse and repeat. Over and over. We kept up practicing impulse control on the way there and at the park. Heel, sit, wait your turn, lay down, open the gate, then....BREAK! And she was off into her own world. I thought "She's still well trained, I have nothing to worry about!" All of the effort I had put into training her was still apparent in her behavior, so I was happy just throwing my dog into the daily mosh pit that is the dog park.
Then something happened.
Stella discovered tennis balls.
She had not been a very fetch-oriented dog up to this point. But there were always hoards of crusty, dirty, delicious balls around the park, so she eventually found out that they could be really fun. And I mean REALLY FUN. Like, this-tennis-ball-is-the-best-thing-I've-ever-had-in-my-mouth fun. So, great! now my playful, affectionate, beautiful, wonderful dog likes to play fetch? I was all in.
Fast forward a few weeks, we're headed to the park. The scent of crusty-ass tennis balls wafts over the field and Stella's eyes widen with excitement. We go through our routine, she listens well, I let her off, she bee-lines for a ball, one of those nice orange rubbery ones. Her excitement piques the rest of the dogs around her, and they swarm her to say hello. She snakes through the mob, desperately trying to keep her most prized possession to herself. She slides to the far side of the park, does a drive by check in with me, and never once lets her ball touch the ground. I offered to throw it for her, she refused. She spent the entire hour pacing by my side holding her tennis ball, recoiling at any pup who came by to offer a game. She never nipped, growled, or vocalized at all, but her body language was that of someone carrying a bag of cash down a dark alleyway. She did NOT want to be there. I brushed it off as an off day and we went home.
Throughout the next few days, her behavior got worse. Her hackles went up and stayed up, she was guarded, guarding her ball and me, and never let her hair down the way she used to. She was stressed, burdened with the task of protecting her ball, and I felt so disconnected from her. I thought "This is your favorite place, what's the matter with you? There are a hundred balls here, if you lose that one just find another!" But she didn't see it that way. And that's when I came to realize-
My dog hated the dog park.
And worse, I had let her develop a terrible behavior on my watch- resource guarding.
At home, she was fine. Gives up her toys, waits for her food, takes treats gently, lets anyone take her bones away from her. But what I failed to realize is that my young dog was very much still insecure in herself. The burden of having to interact with all sorts of dogs (in all different states of excitement) was way too stressful for her to handle. Add in the fact that this place is littered with her most favorite toys, and it was a recipe for disaster.
I decided I had seen enough. I had always heard from dog trainers that fights and trauma at the dog park are not a matter of if, but when. And I feel lucky that we got to have as much fun there as we did while we still went. But I think in her own way, Stella told me she had had enough.
I didn't want to take my dog someplace that stressed her out. Even with how easy and picturesque it seemed at times, I knew it was time to put on my big-girl pants and find a new routine. Nowadays, we take our morning and evening trips to the riverbank of the American river. She sniffs through brush, splashes in the water, and of course, energetically fetches her ball. And most importantly, she's relaxed and happy- doing what a dog wants to do- sniffing, exploring, seeing new things everyday, as opposed to feeling like she has to watch her back. It's been good for our relationship too. I no longer sit around on my phone waiting for her to tire herself out, I'm an active participant in the most exciting part of her day. We've gotten closer, she's learned new skills for being off leash, and I've learned to trust her training and her intuition.
We still have the occasional doggie-playdate now and then. And she does great! She doesn't feel out of control. I've learned to take more responsibility in creating a controlled and positive environment for my dog to thrive in, and to be an active participant in her life.
To all our dog park friends we've made- we miss you! Let's set up a playdate sometime! We'll leave the tennis balls at home, I promise.
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