Last week, I told the story of how a dog in my neighborhood got out of a fenced yard to run at a friend of mine and her dog, who was with her (on leash) and hopping into the back seat of their car in my driveway. The loose dog certainly surprised my friend, barreling right up to her without warning.
What was astounding about the incident was that the loose dog’s owner, without apology to anyone, was furious at his dog … for behavior he, the owner, had allowed—even encouraged—to be rehearsed by the dog daily in their own front and back yards since the dog joined their family not that long ago.
We were all lucky that day.
No one was injured. My friend reacted confidently, as did her dog. The neighbor’s dog was too short to jump into the vehicle, which might have been its intention. My friend’s dog continued doing what his human had asked of him, hopping into the car. My friend shut the door after him.
I checked with her after they’d gotten home. My friend saw no immediate effects on her dog. I’ve seen the dog since and, even in the same location—my front yard—he showed no wariness. I was, and am, still mad that the incident occurred, because I know what might have happened instead.
I asked online for dog lovers and dog professionals to share their stories about what can go very badly when loose dogs attack. I said, “You may know a dog who’s suffered a surprise attack by another dog, with physical injuries and/or emotional trauma that can last a lifetime. You may know a child or vulnerable senior who’s been caught in the middle of such a dog vs. dog situation that’s left scars which don’t heal.”
I added, “I want to relay your stories about what can happen when a loose dog approaches or attacks an on-leash dog, causing physical and/or emotional trauma to the on-leash dog and possibly to the humans with it. Has such an incident happened to you and your dog, or to someone you know and their dog? Was there lasting damage to any involved? How was it dealt with? Tell us all the details and how the loose dog’s humans reacted, if they did at all. Did they take responsibility?”
Here are some of the stories that were shared:
Sodonnia Wolfrom (Arkansas) Arlinn and I were walking home from visiting my mom. Arlinn was off leash, but it was an area we were very familiar with, and she has an impeccable recall. We made it to our yard, and I saw an unfamiliar dog in the fenced-in part of the yard. I planned to let Arlinn inside and shoo the dog away. The dog saw Arlinn and dashed for her. She ran from it, trying to avoid getting attacked. I wanted to call her back, but the dog was between us, and I’d be asking her to run toward the dog. She kept running from the dog, and eventually went into the road. Both dogs got hit by a car. The other dog took off and Arlinn ran to me.
I carried her to the house to check her over and called my vet. We got her there and she spent five days hospitalized. She had a dislocated elbow and hip, her rear leg was partially degloved, her face had a hole torn in it, and she was covered in punctures and scrapes. She still has nightmares. She’s a bit wary of moving cars. She’s not as easygoing with other dogs any more, but isn’t afraid of them. She was afraid of the yard for a while.
Photo by Sodonnia Wolfrom
If she had been on leash the result would have been the same, because I would have dropped the leash in panic. She was in arm’s reach of me when the dog ran for her. The shirt is what she was wearing during the attack. We had to cut it off. The other photo was taken after the vet helped.
Photo by Sodonnia Wolfrom
Beth Fabel (Washington) I was walking along what seemed like an empty beach on a rainy evening with my two Papillons and Border Collie. We had just driven to our rental cabin and even though it was cold and rainy, my dogs needed a walk. The beach had a cliff at its back and I could see a long way in both directions. What I didn’t know is that there were some houses at the top of the cliff with stairs to the beach. Suddenly two dogs ran up to us from behind, with no humans in sight. (I found out later that the humans were slowly descending the steps and their dogs ran out to the water without them.) One, a cattle dog, grabbed one of my Papillons who was standing politely to greet the other dog who ran up into the middle of my group. Thankfully, I was close enough to yell and kick at the cattle dog, who dropped my Papillon. His injuries were minor injuries, but he had punctures on his side and severely bruised and painful ribs.
The owners eventually caught up. They laughed when I said their dog attacked mine. They said he was friendly and I had misunderstood. And they walked away. I was too panicked about getting away from them before their dogs attacked mine again to think clearly, and I didn’t get their names. It was infuriating.
Bailey Stickney (Minnesota) I have a really hard time walking past open garage doors. I’ve had three dogs blast out of open garage doors to attack me, twice while I was walking another dog, once when it was just me. Luckily, I don’t—and the dogs don’t—have any physical injuries from these attacks, but I certainly have some lasting psychological trauma. When I am walking in a neighborhood and I see an open garage door, or if one starts to open, I stop moving. More than half the time, I turn around and find another route to avoid walking past. Sometimes I tie up the dog I’m walking so I can move ahead to make sure there is no loose dog inside. Sometimes, I just push through the panic, sweaty and fearful. I hate it. I want to feel safe again.
Jessa Lewis (Washington) My sweet Springer remains fearful of German Shepherd and Husky type dogs after being ganged up on during her first year, at a dog park. She always prefers to engage with people over other dogs, so I stopped taking her to those places. [The owners of the other dogs] laughed it off. “It’s a dog park … dogs will play.” My Springer was terrified and yelping in fear as they surrounded her. It felt like schoolyard bullies picking on the new kid. The owners did nothing to get their dogs to heel, so I pushed them away to pick up my then 30–35 pound dog and carry her out of there. I’m glad nothing physical happened, but if it had gone unchecked it could have, with four big dogs surrounding a smaller one. I like when dog parks have sections based on size and play style.
Gwen Jones (California) My ten-month-old Border Collie was attacked by a neighbor’s dog that scaled a six-foot fence to get to us. It took almost nine years and tons of management to teach my dog how to re-direct his anxiety, and I swear he has night terrors almost every night because of that attack.
Marilyn Marks (Connecticut) I knew an owner-trained guide dog that was attacked while working and was unwilling to work again. The owner/handler tried to get the dog past the incident, but had no success until the dog was retrained using German words. That worked.
Anna Abney (South Carolina) I’ve had so many dicey loose-dog encounters I barely know where to begin. I’m fortunate enough to have Central Asian Shepherd Dogs, so no emotional or physical trauma has ever happened to my own dogs. Central Asians are literally bred for the work of fending off attacks and are both physically equipped to win a fight easily, and mentally equipped to not be particularly bothered by it once it’s over. But when a truly aggressive dog attacks, it’s emotionally traumatic for me. As a dog lover, I don’t want to see my dogs have to do their job on another dog’s head. However, I also can’t risk the safety of my smaller dogs, so I can’t exactly save the loose aggressive dog from itself.
Unfortunately, I have witnessed what happens when a loose dog decides it wants to fight my dogs. It’s not pretty. I won’t go into graphic detail, but many years ago a loose dog attacked my two Central Asians, Astrid and Lennon. I also had my little ten-pound American Hairless Terrier, Lini, along with me. My dogs were leashed. This dog was alone, no owner in sight. He made a beeline for Lini, who quietly ducked behind me while Astrid and Lennon (Lennon was only a yearling at the time) swung across the trail to meet his charge. He postured and snarled and they postured and snarled back. Then he launched at them both. They … handled it. At first, he would squeal when they grabbed him so they would let him go, figuring he would retreat. He didn’t. He kept leaping back into the fray. At this point I was sitting on the ground holding my leashes just to avoid being pulled down and Lini was in my lap. We got dragged a little ways but mostly my dogs stood their ground and just kept him from advancing any closer to either Lini or me. It was a good twenty-minute ordeal until a jogger came along and helped chase the dog away. (This dog wasn’t a bit afraid of my two dreadnoughts who were tearing him apart, but he was afraid of a man running up to him.) I have no idea if the dog made it home; he was extremely injured by this point. My dogs were completely fine, nothing on them but spit. I, however, was a trembling mess and it was an hour before I trusted my shaking legs enough to walk back to the car.
The most chilling part was that the only other dogs we saw as we made our way back were an elderly golden with his elderly owners and a young couple whose little daughter was walking their tiny dachshund puppy that couldn’t have weighed more than four pounds. What if that dog had come upon either of them rather than me? That dog wanted to fight and kill something. He was seeking out dogs to attack. He had clearly done it before. By sheer dumb luck, he missed putting those unsuspecting families in the news.
People need to control their dogs. I don’t care if your dog is a vicious ravening beast or the sweetest thing in the world. It should never be permitted to rush up to any dogs it doesn’t know, period. It isn’t safe or fair to anyone.
NEXT WEEK: more sad and scary stories about what happens when loose dogs attack.
