The Sunnyvale Sun

Letters & Opinions

A bowwow here and a bowwow there ...

By Carol Bogart

In recent weeks I've been applying my computer-assisted reporting skills in a quest to find a suitable South Bay dog park for my aging, lonely dog.

Our first foray has taken us to the Las Palmas Dog Park in Sunnyvale.

Elsewhere in the area there are other dog-friendly places you can let a well-behaved dog off the leash, I've learned. The problem is, in regional parks such places are not confined by fences.

My fear is that Dodger will be so beside himself with joy I'll never get a chance to snap the leash back on. I really don't want him to become some mountain lion's dinner.

The Las Palmas dog park proved to be just the ticket:

* Large enough for nimbler dogs to get in a good romp

* A sufficiently interesting perimeter to satisfy Dodger's desire to just nose around.

* Shaded by large trees.

* Buckets of fresh water. (One clumsy pooch knocked over a bucket that was filled to the rim, giving a good-natured Rottie an impromptu bath. The Rottweiler took the splashing in stride, even seemed to enjoy it.)

* Stocked with plastic bags for easy pickup if you forget to bring a couple, and a handy restroom for humans nearby.

One of the nice things about dog parks is that you get to meet so many canine characters. In Sunnyvale, we met Fiona the basset hound who became acquainted with each new dog by showing it her tummy, and Simon, a large-headed sweet-tempered border collie/rottie mix, and Gus, a Schnauzer who has colitis.

I didn't know Gus has colitis when he hopped up beside me on the bench and started investigating the pocket in which I always carry a few puppy biscuits for Dodger. My poor old dog has a lot of arthritis in his hips. Getting in and out of the car is painful for him, so when he jumps right in like a good dog, I reward him with a biscuit.

Gus, who could barely see through his thick gray bangs, was being very cute pushing past my keys to get to the biscuits. Before I knew it, he'd talked me out of all three. His owner said as long as she knew, she'd just be careful what she gave him for dinner. She told me that if I never came back for another two years, when I did, Gus would remember me.

I should have known better, though. No matter how much someone else's dog cozies up to you--and at a dog park, lots of them do--it's only good manners to ask their human whether they can have a treat, the same way you would the parent of a child.

Even though it's already been nearly six months since the dog, cat and I moved here from Castro Valley (where Dodger was a regular at the Earl Warren Dog Park--consistently rated the East Bay's best)--I did remember to bring bags. The worst etiquette in the dog park is failing to clean up after your dog. Bringing in an aggressive dog that doesn't play well with others will result in shunning of both dog and human.

Dodger and I stayed about an hour, then headed back to the car, walking by the children's play area that's adjacent to a pretty little lake. Dodger cast longing glances at the water as we passed it. Unlike the purebreds who seem to make up the majority of the dogs at Las Palmas, Dodger is a pound puppy. Heinz 57. Mutt. He has enough lab in him that he loves bounding into the water to retrieve a ball.

That's my next quest: finding a place where Dodger can go swimming. A creek would do. Maybe there are some deep, still pockets in Stevens Creek where a happy dog can chase a tennis ball. Meantime, we'll be going back to Las Palmas pretty often, I know. Dodger's very happy with his new puppy playgroup and, in time, I'll become better acquainted with their humans. I've found that there is no better icebreaker in the world than a friendly dog.

Carol Bogart is the editor of the Sunnyvale Sun. Contact her at cbogart@community-newspapers.com or call 408.200.1055.