I strive to be a good dog—I mean, a good dog owner. I leash my dogs when leashes are required by law or by the convention of good manners, I always pick up my dogs’ poop in public, and I strive to not let my dogs inconvenience others in any way, by barking, jumping, or peeing on stuff that shouldn’t be peed on.
But recently, I was stuck between being a responsible dog owner and being responsible for my dogs’ well being, and I broke a leash law in order to protect my dogs. And I got yelled at, a couple of times, and as a good dog, I still feel terrible about it—but I would make the same choice again if I had to (but I hope to never have to).
Last week, there was (once again!) a wildfire threatening my town, and indeed, my neighborhood. We evacuated on the first night, even though the evacuation level for our zone was at “warning,” because it was “mandatory” in the zone immediately next to us (and the last time we had a fire nearby, our neighborhood was ordered to evacuate at 11 pm!). The next morning, with the order still at “warning,” we went home and packed up for a planned camping trip out of town; what was unplanned, though, was the fact that we had to bring my two dogs with us.
My usual dog sitters are my sister and my friend Leonora. My sister’s neighborhood was under a mandatory evacuation, and she had bugged out to another town with her three dogs. Leonora lives so close to my house that saddling her with my dogs would not have been fair had the fire grown and she had to evacuate. And since we were camping at a dog-friendly KOA campground, I decided it would be best to just take them with us on an “evacu-vacation,” even though we were also experiencing quite a heat wave and having the dogs with us would strictly limit what we could do on our trip.
We drove to a small mountain town where we were going to meet friends who run in an annual July 4th footrace that raises money for local charities; my husband and grandson were registered to run as well. I was registered for the walking version, but, as dogs were not allowed in the scrum, I planned to watch from the sidelines and take pictures.
On our first day in town, we got camp set up and picked up our race-day shirts. Then we drove to a National Forest where we took a short hike from one lake to another. Dogs are permitted to be off-leash on the trails, and I allowed my dogs to walk with us mostly off-leash, though I carried their leashes in my hand and occasionally called them to sit on the side of the trail to let other people pass by, especially if anyone on the trail looked apprehensive about dogs. A number of people complimented me on how friendly and well behaved my dogs were, and I never felt like we negatively impacted any other trail users.
The next morning, I just watched the start of the fun run and chatted with a lovely couple who stopped to admire my dogs while we waited at the finish. I did see a few dogs on leash with their owners in the field of runners—folks who were breaking the official rules—but the race was so short and the time of day so early, I didn’t feel like the dogs were endangered, and none of them looked like a threat to other runners or walkers. Still, I didn’t want to be a rule breaker, and my dogs and I were content to watch the event.
We spent the middle part of the day at a local lake, where dogs are welcome to swim and run off-leash.
In the evening, I took my leashed dogs to a restored wetland park with magnificent views of Mt. Shasta, and we walked on the raised boardwalks to view the sunset.
The next morning in the campground, I scowled at a gentleman who was walking with a cup of coffee in either hand while his large dog walked ahead of him off-leash—but I scowled only because I was walking my dogs to the campground’s “dog potty yard” on-leash, and his dog started advancing on my two, growling. I said to the loose dog, “HEY!” and the guy finally noticed and called his dog back.
All of this is supposed to establish me as a mostly good dog—a responsible dog owner—even though what came next is an example of the opposite.
On the last day of our evacu-vacation we decided to take one more hike before driving home. We selected a trail that followed the path of a small river and took in three separate scenic waterfalls. The weather was still terribly hot, but since the trail was mostly in the shade and there were ample opportunities for the dogs to get in the water, I thought they’d do fine.
There was just one thing I hadn’t considered: There were short stretches of the trail without shade, and on those stretches, the ground was very hot. Woody didn’t show any discomfort, but on one longer stretch (perhaps 50 yards), Boone suddenly started kicking his back feet as if he was walking on hot lava. (Well, he was; the soil in this area is largely volcanic.) His ears flattened and he looked panicked. The moment I realized what was happening, I dropped both dogs’ leashes and said, “Run! Let’s go!” and ran with them to the next shade. When we all stopped in the shade I poured the last water I had in my water bottle on Boone’s feet, examining each one for any signs of blisters or sores. There were none (thank dog!) but I’m sure they felt burned.
That’s where we turned around, but not before I left the dogs with my husband in the shade, and went further down the trail to refill water bottles from the river and thoroughly wet down my dogs’ paws and lower legs. I took their leashes off and said, “Let’s go!” and let them run down the exposed part of the trail to another patch of shade. I did that each time we got to a highly exposed bit of trail, hoping that this would prevent their feet from blistering (it did). And I let them enter the river a half-dozen times in the mile-and-a-half that it took to get back to the car, so they could cool their feet and drink.
But here’s the “bad dog owner” part. This is a very popular trail and it was a holiday week, so we passed other people nearly every minute. Every time I saw another dog coming toward us, I leashed my dogs (just like they had been leashed the entire way outbound) but otherwise I left them off-leash so they could speed past any hot parts on the trail and then slow down in the shade. This meant that they passed other hikers off leash, both hikers going the opposite way on the busy trail and hikers who were walking slower than us. And twice, someone snapped at me about this. “They’re supposed to be on leash,” called one woman who was sitting with a man on the side of the trail as we trotted past. I kept going but called back, “I know, I’m sorry!”
An older gentleman in a fisherman’s vest and carrying a fishing rod was madder as my dogs passed him going the opposite way, with me about 15 feet behind them. “Put your damn dogs on a leash! It’s the law!” he shouted. My emotions were raw because I was feeling so bad about potentially hurting my dogs, and breaking the rules, and I started crying as I babbled my apologies to him. All I could do was make lame excuses about being evacuated from a fire and not planning to bring the dogs and not realizing that their feet would be burning on this trail. I sounded like an idiot, I’m sure! And I felt like one!
Well, we made it back to the car in one piece, and neither dog had any visible blisters or sores. Even so, I still feel like a criminal for taking so long to realize that the ground had gotten so hot—too hot for barefoot dogs! The experience really marred my memory of our otherwise nice hike in an absolutely beautiful area.
Ugh! Have you ever been that “bad dog owner”—even if you are usually quite responsible? Someone tell me I’m not alone!
So, your story begs the question – where were your dogs’ booties? It’s up to responsible dog owners to set an example so that others may learn. That said, none of us are perfect. That’s what makes us human. As a suggestion, perhaps carry a bag or fanny pack that includes some essential items whenever you’re out hiking with your dogs. After all, booties may be needed for more than just protection from the heat.
You are NOT a bad dog owner. You advocated for your dogs to keep them safe, which we should all do. Plus you knew that your dogs were under your voice control, and most dog owners can only wish for that. Recently in our NC heat i have been testing the pavement before walking my dogs. Ouch! I can say for certain that if I had your level of voice control with my dogs I would have done exactly what you did. I am a rule follower like you and sometimes it stinks. Keep advocating for your dogs! I know you will.
I understand your dilemma. I will recommend booties in an emergency kit prepped to go in case of an unknown problem. Taking care of our pets are top priority, being considerate of others are equal.
Yes Nancy, I’ll admit to being a bad dog owner. Although there was a No Pets sign at a National Park trail, I took my small leashed dog on a very short trail out and back — about 15 minutes total. I was worried it was too hot to leave my dog in the car. The dirt trail wasn’t hot. It looked like a remote trail and I didn’t expect to see anyone, but the couple of people we did encounter scowled and muttered something about No Dogs. Yep, I deserved it and have not done it again.
After seeing many other rule breakers over the last 12 years that have annoyed me, I can say I am still thoroughly ashamed of myself. The more rule breakers there are (eg. dogs in off limits areas, poop not scooped, unleashed etc.), the tighter the rules become and the fewer places dogs are allowed. So now I don’t hike to places if there is a No Pets sign and look for somewhere that is dog friendly.
That said, I don’t see what other choice you had but to keep your dogs from harm as best you could. These were extenuating circumstances and you did your best in the situation you found yourself in. Besides your feelings, I’m glad your dogs were fine!
You are not alone. We used to take our dogs to be part of parades, usually in cool to cold weather. We attended a one-off parade in the summer and I had no idea that my dog was fussing when we were stopped in line because of the hot road until someone scolded me. It was the right thing for the person to do, react quickly and sharply to protect my dog, but the sting lasted a very long time. I was horrified to have hurt my dog when it was of course never my intention to be anything other than a good companion for her. We started to use “hot foot” to direct the dogs on insanely hot days to move from strolling at heal to fast walking ahead of us as far as the leash allows to get to the other side, where they can stop or just slow down again.
Thank you for sharing your story and inviting what I’ve read posted so far as experiences and workarounds for us all to learn from.
Quit being so hard on yourself! S__t happens.
You saved your loved ones from serious burns.
People can be so judgemental and ignorant.
I never care if my own plans will not be as fulfilling…my pup’s comfort and happiness come first. That said you were in a bind in that regard and I applaud you both for having pups you felt comfortable and trusted enough to run off leash and respond to your voice commands. I am too neurotic and fearful to ever chance that, To begin with I am in the midwest where our risk from natural disasters is minimized though you wouldn’t know it from the increase in homeowners insurance they base on the potential for a crisis they say…so as beautiful as your state is, I would never be living there or any other risky environment. But if I were in more risky territory, I would always have a Plan B…as you did with your sister…If I had to evacuate I would gather as much as I could that I treasure with my pup being #1 and heading out of the area to a hotel, but then I am also not a camper. The important thing is you all survived. And while I haven’t happily had anything like this ever happen, I am still horrified to think of the time we were walking in a crowd in Toronto, on the sidewalk at some sort of street festival, I had stopped to look at something on display and someone tactfully asked if I needed a poo bag. I was prepared, so I said no we’re fine, thank you, and I forget what her next comment was, but my pup had pooped right there and I had not realized it. I let my attention to her lapse while I was engrossed in looking and it’s all on me. I always have bags handy and always clean up after her in our hotel’s garden or designated area. In fact, like so many others I’m sure, I also pick up other pup’s poo so that we are not the accused and so that these blessed pet friendly hotels will not change their mind.
Theresa, I freakin love your comment. So true it is
I don’t think you are a bad dog owner but I question your judgement taking your dogs on trails where there could be fleas and ticks. Even if they take oral medicine, the insects are there. And taking them for hikes in very hot weather is not nice to them. Taking your dogs off leash is rude to others who are following the rules. Not all dogs like to be friends with your dogs. I would never leave my beagle off leash or let her swim in creeks and rivers, yuk!! You should have found a dog friendly hotel or motel until you could go home.
Given the choice you did the right thing for the dogs and, thank dog, you thought of the dogs first, not the “law”, not the stupid non-thinking humans!