Dog beach drama

Scared space: our town’s dogs beach, running park, with an active loving community that respects and takes care of each other and their dogs with love. Both in the beach and in town, we visit each other, are friends and protect and take care of our dogs, and our beach. We jointly take care of cleaning the beach of garbage that floats in from the channel – a lot of stuff off of the boats we pick up.

The beach dog-walking com-munity oversees this beach in an environmentally friendly way. We keep it clean. We cherish the sacredness of keeping it pristine. That includes the beach grasses. We have put out a garbage can chained to a pole for people to use – and they do.

We have put up a doggie poop bag house for people who have forgotten theirs. We as a community have never had a dog or a people problem in the 12 years that I have been walking my dog Scooby there once or twice a day, seven days a week in all four seasons.

Upon the beach about three blocks away, an attack dog, huge, extra large, with teeth barred and growling, barking, coming slowly marching toward myself and Scooby – both of us old. This is scary on our scared beach, and disrupts my meditation and the beauty of the moment.

The flight and fight triggers in. Fast, what to do? I decide to turn around fast and head back to the car. Scooby agrees as his tail has gone down between his legs, instead of the happy tail, wagging incessantly, happy, happy, happy to see you. Tails say it all.

This scene has repeated itself, several times. Now I am on alert. In our scared space, watching out for an attack dog with a bully of an owner. Why should I have to watch out for a bully with a trained attack dog?

Janet Laurel

La Conner