Bowzer and the Bozo

You meet some nice people at the dog park. This afternoon I struck up a conversation with a woman who was enjoying the beautiful weather with her sweet 12-year-old mix. He was a nice dog, mild-mannered and gentle. Still, I kept my 6-year-old Yorkie, Mindy, on her leash at first. She's got a lot of energy and, while she's relatively friendly, has been known to start a fight here or there, particularly with bigger dogs. But once the two dogs were acquainted and Mindy seemed okay with the other dog, I let her off the leash. No problem.
The woman and I started talking about how nice it was that there were two sections, one for dogs under twenty pounds, and one for dogs over twenty pounds. I told her that the last couple of times I'd been there, people had brought puppies into the small dog side but that those puppies were at least 45 pounds. And 45 pounds of "he just wants to play" doesn't translate into a lot of fun for my 10-pound Mindy, whose head is often not much larger than those puppies' paws.

The woman says she understands. Years ago Old Buster had been attacked by two neighborhood dogs and they'd done some damage. Old Buster has since been scared of big dogs, even friendly ones. She tells me her son, who'd lived with her for a while, had a pit bull mix puppy and Old Buster hated it because it followed him around and jumped on him constantly. But thankfully, her son and Bowzer the pit bull mix moved out and Old Buster is happy again. Then she points and says, "See, that's him right over there. He's not quite a year old."

I look and sure enough, there's a man walking a large dog outside the gate. I estimate not-quite-a-year-old Bowzer to be at least 55 pounds. As I watch, the son walks up to the gate of - not the large dog side - our side! I can't believe it. I quickly call my Mindy over to me and tell the woman, "I have to put her on the leash because big dogs scare her and she'll fight." By now the son had entered the gate and to my horror has released Bowser. The son has his head down and is chatting away on his cell phone. He doesn't see Bowser charging us at full speed.

But the woman does.

I quickly say to her, "Mindy will want to fight if he gets too close."
To which she replies, "Oh, he just wants to play."
Meanwhile, Mindy is flopping around like a fish on the end of her leash trying to maneuver away from Bowzer's nose, which is all over her. She's starting to panic and it's only a matter of time before she starts snapping at anything and everything. I'm trying to get Mindy to stay still and not set off a chain reaction of aggression. Bowzer is circling both of us. My voice sounds unnaturally high, "She fights when she feels threatened like this."
"He's harmless," she says. She’s on a park bench six feet away.
I'm looking at Bowzer's body language: stiff tail angled slightly upward, ears as far forward as they can go, chest opened and squared. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I take a deep breath and calm myself. I tell Mindy to "leave it," hoping that if she turns her attention away from Bowzer he'll lose interest and leave. Mindy stands still and turns her head away and Bowzer eventually wanders off. I turn to the woman, "Mindy really will start a fight.” And your dog will end it, Lady! Geesh!
She leans back and crosses her legs. "He's real friendly."
"Well. It's time for us to leave." I start walking towards the gate but Bowzer sees us and follows.
"Bowwwzzzer!" The woman calls him in a less than commanding voice. Bowzer is circling us again. "Bowzer, Honey, do you want some water?" He trots off towards her and Mindy and I make it safely out the gate.
Yup, you meet some nice people at the dog park. You meet some real bozos, too.