Old What’s His Face
IMPERIAL — I know about 75 percent of the names of the people who are regulars at the Woof Town dog park here.
I know about 98 percent of the names of the dogs who are regulars at the Woof Town dog park here.
There are reasons for that. Most of the canine regulars are good dogs who get along. Still, there’s fairly constant human reprimanding of dogs for misbehavior, which generally revolves around overly rough play, humping, possessiveness about toys, humping and humping.
So we hear the names of most of the dogs called out regularly by their humans, with pleadings along the lines of, “Spike, please quit humping Prince who’s already humping Petunia.” (It can get canine kinky like that.) We don’t hear the dogs calling out to their humans, “Nancy, please quit gossiping with Rodolfo about Joanie’s personal issues.” That means we become more rapidly familiar with the names of quadrupeds at the dog park than the bipeds.
All regulars at the dog park, dogs and canines alike, know the name “Shea,” as that’s the name called out most often, because he’s often in the center of dog park mischief.
I’d taken my other dogs to the dog park intermittently over the first few years it was open, but that changed when we brought home our Australian shepherd puppy and started taking Shea to the dog park almost every evening. Before he started going to the dog park Shea was an unrelenting house hoodlum. Now he behaves well at home, probably because he raises holy heck at the dog park most nights.
Now 7 months old, Shea is notorious at Woof Town. He dumps out the water bowls a couple times each evening and takes the bowls to the section of the grass where he keeps his purloined possessions, a haul that regularly includes other dogs’ balls, pull toys and Frisbees. Shea, often with his pal Ace, also chases/herds other dogs in the park with a zeal bordering on obsessive and wrestles other dogs with the wooooooo! fury of a furry Rick Flair.
That means I regularly shout, “Shea, stop!” as do other humans who have come to know the dog park’s resident junior troublemaker. Yes, people love Shea because he’s a sweet boy who loves all humans and dogs, but he’s so rambunctious he often is referred to at the dog park not as just “Shea” but “That Shea.”
The park’s canine regulars include a good number of Aussies, boxers, huskies, Labs and German shepherds, all breeds that do better with lots of physical exercise and mental stimulation. There are other dog breeds and crossbreeds that regularly use the park and also benefit from the running/ wrestling and general interaction with other dogs.
While the dogs do their things, their people talk, usually about their dogs but also about other matters, with discussions ranging from the unique Imperial Valley lifestyle to education to the weather. People at the dog park, though, are as careful about walking into politics as they are about walking into piles of dog poop.
Regarding that … dog park regulars are self-regulating. If someone’s dog drops a load and that dog’s person doesn’t notice, other humans will tell him/her, “Your dog just pooped,” with the expectation that the person will clean up after his/her canine companion. If the person, usually a newcomer, hesitates in his poop patrol duties, a strong suggestion along the lines of, “You should go pick that up. There are bags provided right there,” is forwarded.
Most people, though, are good about picking up after their dogs.
After all, no one wants to be the subject of stories along the lines of, “Old What’s His Face didn’t pick up after that adorable Sparky again last night.” Bret Kofford teaches writing at San Diego State University-Imperial Valley. He can be reached at kofford@ roadrunner.com