Features

Country Roots and City Dogs (First Person)

Toni Mester
Saturday May 09, 2015 - 11:10:00 AM
Alice & Sally
Toni Mester
Alice & Sally

I grew up in Port Jervis, New York, a country town (pop. 9000) in the upper Delaware Valley during the years following World War II and spent a good deal of my childhood on my great uncles’ chicken farm, which has since been developed into a swanky equestrian estate. Its 80 acres are about the same size as Cesar Chavez Park, which might explain why I feel so at home there. 

Chavez Park, however, is not the country, even though the former landfill on the Bay gives visitors a fleeting sense of bucolic escape. Claudia Kawczynska, editor of the Bark magazine and a spokesperson for the dog guardians described its interior 17 acre off-leash area as land “set aside for humans and off leash dogs to exercise and enjoy nature together.” 

Chavez Park is a man-made environment, not exactly what nature intended, and its ecology is seriously out of whack. A city park—especially one newly created from landfill—needs investment and care, and this one has been neglected for many reasons, which I intend to explore in this and other articles on its history and current dilemmas. 

At present, public attention is focused on the foxtail infestation, a problem since the trash heap was capped, sealed and planted in the early 80’s, but one that has gotten increasingly worse. Foxtails, mostly barley grasses, are endemic to disturbed grasslands and anathema to dogs, because the arrow like seed heads can get stuck in their orifices and become infected. 

In the 1980’s Kawczynska, Cameron Woo, and others led a determined effort to get an off-leash area established in the center of the park’s newly seeded meadows, only to find decades later that their pastures of heaven have turned into a kind of hell, the foxtails making the dog park dangerous for months at a time, casting a dark shadow on the success of their grass roots victory. 

Nature has a way of biting back, and the last time I looked, it was still “red in tooth and claw” as Tennyson put it. On April 27, Chavez Park blogger Martin Nicolaus photographed a dead rabbit at the northwest corner, outside the off-leash area, its hind end injuries consistent with an attack by a chasing dog. There are no other predators and no fast moving machinery that could rend the flesh of a small mammal that way. Nobody even reported turkey vultures or other raptors feeding on the carrion. 

The picture that Marty sent me was a close up of a post on his website, and he cautioned that it was gruesome. But I used to see much worse kill on our country roads as well as fresh deer carcasses splayed on vehicles and strung up in backyards. Men in green or camouflage, a rifle and a retriever in their trucks, were a common sight in the fall. 

There has always been hunting in the mountains around Port Jervis, and we weren’t allowed into the woods during the season, even on the protected Appalachian Trail, which passes just miles outside town. Nobody talked about animal rights, and hunting dogs and their puppies were prized, although rarely sold: no classified newspaper ads, no local dog industry. The best of a litter was kept and the others given away. Our rural economy was still depressed. Most people couldn’t afford “dog food.” Dogs ate kitchen and garden leftovers, venison scraps from garage freezers, or giveaways from the butchers at the A & P. 

As country folk migrated to the cities and suburbs, many former work breeds have been further domesticated into urban companions. The Encyclopedia of the Dog, an illustrated overview by Bruce Fogle, describes each canine breed by former and current uses, and most of the original functions for which the breeds were created are now anachronistic, replaced by “companion.” 

As a result, some urban dogs pose problems other than their bark and poop. These irritations can be fixed by training and community pressure. Since many breeds are relatively new to the city and the suburbs, their function has changed before their genes have had time to adjust 

Some breeds were developed to be companion dogs, like the poodle, bulldog, and bichon, to name a few. But the ancestors of most of the larger dogs, now kept in houses and apartments, were bred to be hunters, herders, haulers, and guards, and their genetic dispositions can be mastered but not fundamentally altered. It takes generations of breeding to do that. Let a natural born tracker loose in grasslands full of gophers, squirrels, and rabbits, and nature will take its course. 

Advocates for canine access to park lands argue that dogs are not a threat to wildlife, and that denial has not been helpful, leading to unnecessary rancor with conservationists, many of whom are dog owners themselves. Even in larger regional and national parks, rules restrict dogs to certain trails and areas, not only because of their hunting instincts but because their scent and habit of urinating to mark territory can disturb the wildlife habitat. 

We need a deeper understanding of canine breeds and their training as well as the variety of birds, mammals, and other animals and how they interact in specific ecologies. We have to become more informed in our understanding, and we – dog owners and conservationists—need to listen to each other with greater respect. 

An aggressive dog that has attacked is likely to chase or charge again, and it’s not just rabbits that are at risk but children and small dogs. Last year the Parks and Waterfront Commission heard from a mother whose child was knocked down and straddled by a dog that was off-leash in the wrong place. Luckily, the dog was just overly friendly, but the parents were terrified. My neighbor lost one of her little pets in a fatal attack by a larger dog on the street, and another one of her darlings was bitten just days ago. 

I was walking in Aquatic Park last year and intervened when I saw a spaniel terrier mix harassing a mallard and her ducklings. This canine combination can be so cute, but they are hard wired for hunting. I told the young couple that the park was on-leash and they shouldn’t allow their dog to chase birds. “But she’s having so much fun!” they exclaimed. “Yes, but the duck isn’t,” I replied and tried to make light of the situation. They put their dog on-leash, and we parted amicably. They seemed to be innocent urbanites with scant understanding of other species including the tendencies of their own dog. 

When we were kids, my brother and I raised a puppy that ended up as a ratter on the chicken farm. Most terriers will hunt vermin without training, and our Rummy was no exception. We wanted to keep him at our house, but he was so much happier out on the farm with the other dogs, guarding the coops and rousting rodents who were then picked off by Uncle Sid, an infantry veteran of two world wars and a crack shot. 

Our family business kept us in touch with the rural population, and we regularly attended grange dinners; most farmers had rifles in their trucks and kept at least two dogs as guards and ratters. Nobody thought ill of such killing, but our society has since grown squeamish. In New York City, some dog owners have organized rat packs, which the animal rights group PETA called “a twisted blood sport masquerading as rodent control." How ironic that people can love animals that hunt but hate hunting itself.
Like many of my high school classmates, I became a city dweller, first in Albany, New York; then in Ann Arbor, Michigan; New York City, San Francisco, and Berkeley, where I’ve lived for 43 years, and never again had a dog, despite some yearnings in that direction. I can do without because they are so plentiful. I like well-trained, groomed and socialized dogs because I’m a sucker for affection. A pretty head to stroke, two big loving eyes, and a wagging tail will perk up any day. 

My prejudice, based on where I grew up, is that I prefer to see dogs in a country setting on large properties and off-leash. These days my favorite country dog is Sally, who lives on my friend Alice’s ten acre organic farm and B&B Casa de la Pradera in Fiddletown. Sally is a mix of Catahoula Leopard Dog and Irish setter with the former’s dappled coloring and the latter’s head and tail. Both breeds are hunters, and if Sally is outside barking, she’s tracking a tree squirrel. Rescued from the Sacramento pound, Sally has been trained as an excellent guard dog and companion, and when Alice is away, I find great comfort having her around. 

Alice says that dogs are people, just not human. They have distinctive personalities, and the bond between owner and dog runs deep. My favorite city dog is my friend Barbara’s Yorkie Puck, who has visited the Cesar Chavez dog run and loved every minute. 

Given their need for exercise and the country origins of most breeds, both dogs and their owners gravitate towards park open space. I support off-leash playgrounds and have advocated in favor of establishing a permanent dog park on the southern section of the Santa Fe right-of-way, perhaps one block for large dogs and another for small. 

Berkeley has been a leader in establishing off-leash dog parks. Ohlone Dog Park on Hearst was one of the first, and the off-leash area in Cesar Chavez is beloved by many and their pets. Both parks have problems, and the Parks, Recreation, and Waterfront Department is addressing them, including the need for better rules and design standards like the ones recommended by the ASPCA, American Kennel Club, and experts like Susan Stecchi. 

Money has been set aside to plan and design Cesar Chavez Park, but the main problem is inadequate funding. The entire 90 acre park falls under the Marina Fund, which is supported by boat berthing fees and rents from restaurants and other businesses, not by the parks tax. There is no income whatsoever from any park use, and as a result, nothing has been planted there in 30 years, which robs the birds and other animals of habitat and visitors of beautiful greenery. 

Chavez Park is not the country. Whatever nature out there needs a lot of nurture. Better habitat needs to be developed. Besides improvements to make the off-leash area safer and more enjoyable, other users like cyclists, walkers, and picnicking families deserve enhancements and protections to increase their outdoor pleasure. The one-mile peripheral trail is used daily by many retirees because the trail is level, paved, and features great maritime views and fresh breezes. 

Berkeley has an excellent animal care facility at the Dona Spring Animal Shelter. The Director of Animal Services is Kate O’Connor (koconnor@cityofberkeley.info) who also serves as secretary to the Animal Care Commission. Questions about adoptions and registrations and complaints or issues concerning dogs and other animals should be directed to her, and if it concerns a park, the email should be copied to Scott Ferris, the Director of Parks, Recreation, and Waterfront or Roger Miller, the acting Waterfront Manager and secretary of the Parks and Waterfront Commission (rmiller@cityofberkeley.info). Such documentation will be important in the planning process. 


Toni Mester is a resident of West Berkeley.