Dog Park the New Social Scene

If you don't have a dog you may not be in on a little secret.

All over Australia people are gathering, not at the pub, not online, but at the park. The dog park.

The councils call them off-leash areas.

They are designated patches of bindies and dirt where folks can take their dogs to sniff other dog bottoms and play as nature intended – untethered.

Social oases

You may have seen these fenced oases as you drive past.

You may have noticed dogs cavorting, but did you notice the people talking, laughing, relaxing?

Man's best friend is helping him (and her) to make other friends.

Kate Bennink, a 20-year-old university student, and her dog Ruby, are regulars at their Brisbane dog park.

"You meet people you wouldn't normally meet," Bennink says. "Different age groups – real people who don't spend their whole life studying – who have jobs. It broadens my network."

The dog parks, as they are known colloquially, are used by a variety of people.

Communication hub

Sitting at the picnic table, which acts as a hub for human communication at the Oxley off-leash area in Brisbane's west, are police officers, salespeople, teachers, a bio-geneticist and a fashion designer.

They all live locally and visit the dog park regularly.

Greg Adams is accompanied by Regina, a yorkshire terrier, who fits comfortably into his hand.

"We come to the park about three to four times a week. I reckon it's better than going to the pub," he says.

The social aspect of the dog park may surprise the uninitiated.

Friendships

The Oxley team muses on the friendship and companionship that have grown as rapidly as their pups.

"It's a young culture (at this park)," says Christina Guzzo, in her broad New Jersey accent.

"We have the matriarch (she indicates Veronica Judson who is clipping tiny Regina's hair.)

"We've done the Million Paws Walk and we went to dinner. We have Christmas parties and birthday parties.

"People have been inviting people to things outside the dog park."

Asked what sort of people come to the dog park, Judson says: "Strange people," not looking up from her snipping.

A ripple of agreeable laughter comes from the others.

Scissorhands

Adams mutters something about a female Edward Scissorhands and Guzzo grimaces at Regina's new haircut.

Guzzo spies her own dog Stamos sitting perilously close to Judson's scissors.

She shouts to her husband seated at the other end of the table. "Get her away, honey! Stamos. Run."

Jovial banter about dog grooming techniques passes between Guzzo and Judson.

Peaceful

A word that comes up often when talking to people about the benefits of dog parks to pet owners is "relaxation".

"When I come down here I'm totally different," says Judson who has been coming to the park since it opened about 10 years ago. "I come home from work then I come down here and have a chat and unwind and go home and cook dinner," she says.

In a world seemingly mad for online rather than real-world connections, the people here find solace in communing with their pack.

"You meet people online and they could be from New Zealand. You meet people here locally. It's a good way to meet people, especially if you're new to the area," Michael Chamberlain says.

Deborah Kilcullen worked as a social worker in the mental-health field for a number of years and now works for the Mental Health Tribunal.

She often brings her dog, Daisy, to the dog park.

"People are increasingly becoming isolated in today's society, but coming to the dog park can alleviate that isolation – people have a common interest and it's easier to start up a conversation with someone about the dogs, or even just watch the dogs playing while standing around in a group.

"Leaving the dog park I always feel happier (and dirtier) – I've watched my dog have a great time and I've had a chat with the people here.

"Also, there are studies that show that people who own a dog are less prone to depression and other health problems."

Perhaps it's the poo-picking-up that makes these "park people" so down to earth and imbues them with a self-deprecating sense of humour.

Jazz, an energetic kelpie-cross brings her owner, nurse Lisa Finch, to their dog park near Whites Hill, on Brisbane's southside, almost every day.

When asked why she likes coming to the park, Finch says: "Well, you see, I don't have a life and this is a very social activity for me."

She laughs and winks at a fellow dog owner. "I'm trying to pick up, OK? It beats sitting on a computer."

But it's not all peace, love and rainbows at the dog park.

There are signs erected by the council instructing dog owners to control their dogs and make sure they pick up after them.

But a more powerful code exists, created by the culture of the dog park.

"We like to weed out the bad ones," Guzzo says.

Not being in control of your dog is a definite no-no that won't pass unnoticed, says Adams.

"When a dog's not aggressive, but annoying another dog – it's a subtle distinction – someone quietly tells them their dog's annoying," he says.

Generally though, by keeping an eye on your dog's social interactions, most disputes are settled amicably.

Each park is a bit like the village meeting place of old.

People go there to watch the world go by, discuss the events of the day and meet their neighbours – and their dogs.

Reference: The Courier Mail

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