Karma is the most extroverted dog I’ve ever had.

Myself and Janey, my first dog, are pretty antisocial; we’re quite content to be doing our own thing, just the two of us. But Karma is young and full of joy, and she loves people, dogs and – to a slightly concerning extent – cats. (We’re working on that.) So recently I’ve been doing something I haven’t done before: going to the dog park.

I’m sure going to the dog park is pretty par for the course for dog owners who live in a city; thus far in my life, I’ve benefited from Maine’s plentiful dog-friendly green spaces (the woods behind my various homes). But this was my first time, and I have to admit I was a little worried; I had all those old first-day-of-school feelings, except they were for both me and my dogs. Are we dressed right? Will we make friends?

Blessedly, nobody at the dog park cares how you’re dressed as long as your accessories include a leash and some potty bags. We’ve been going to the South End dog park in Bath, and while I hate to give away a good local spot, I think there’s enough room here for more people because there are … acres. The park is fenced in, except for the rocky descent leading down to the Kennebec River, where the dogs can take themselves for a swim. The view is beautiful, and for those of you who don’t care to stare at nature’s stunning glory, you can also see the Bath Iron Works’ dry dock from there. Features also include an osprey nest at the top of a light post (if you have a Chihuahua, beware), porta potties and dog fountains (but not human fountains).

Karma is quite visibly a pit bull mix. She weighs 50 pounds and is built like a draft horse with paws: She’s got the classic bully block head, big ol’ jaws, and a 16-inch neck of raw muscle. Pit bulls have had a bad reputation for many years; for better or for worse, people tend to love or hate them. In my experience, pit bulls are no more or less dangerous than any other large, strong, energetic dog, but people have their preconceptions. When Karma’s out in public, she tends to be judged as an example of her breed, as opposed to Janey, who gets taken on her own merits (although Janey is such a mutt that she can’t be readily identified as any breed, which probably helps).

As it turns out, Karma is a social butterfly and has had no problems making pals at the park. There are tons of big dogs who want to play her favorite game, which is “run full speed around and crash into each other at 30 mph” and doesn’t seem to have rules.

Her prey drive only engages when she’s around a smaller dog who doesn’t firmly stand up for themselves. She walked right up to an ancient shih tzu named Gizzy. Gizzy gave Karma the snap-bark that dogs do when they mean business, and Karma has left her alone since.

This works for cats, too. My girlfriend’s cat, Persephone, has recently militarized; if Karma passes within 18 inches of her, she gives her the ol’ skibbidy-bap. Little dogs who passively shy away from Karma are the only issue we’ve had; she can’t read a subtle social signal to save her life (like her mom, I suppose), and she gets a little too interested in them, is reprimanded with a firm “no” and moved to the other side of the park for a while.

Karma has the attention span of a goldfish, which is both a blessing and a curse. Redirecting her is pretty easy. Karma is also easily influenced by peer pressure, and on our second visit to the park, she followed a couple of Labradors down the rocks and straight into the most brackish part of the Kennebec. It turns out she can swim, which surprised us both, on account of her being built like a hunk of ham filled with rocks. Against all known laws of physics, she got herself in and out again. Now our park routine involves a post-park bath.

Janey used to be a lot more energetic and sociable with other dogs in her younger days, but she’s somewhere around 8 now and on a moderate dose of Prozac. Back when she went to doggy day care, they called her “lightning foot.” Don’t get me wrong, she’s still willing to exchange a few polite butt sniffs with other canines, but she’s in what I call her “Ferdinand era.” For those not up to date on references to classic children literature, you may remember Ferdinand, the 1936 children’s book by Munro Leaf, about a bull who didn’t want to fight with all the other bulls but would rather sit in the shade of a cork tree and sniff the flowers. She doesn’t engage much, just follows me around and sniffs and pees on everything. She’s just as happy as Karma is, even if she’s not showing it the same way.

Victoria Hugo-Vidal is a Maine millennial. She can be contacted at:
themainemillennial@gmail.com
Twitter: @mainemillennial