Editor’s Letter: The city’s intractable dog problem

Three cedar trees partially obscure my front porch from the view of passing pedestrians, which makes it a cozy, cloistered place to watch the world go by. It was there I sat recently, starting to compose this very editor’s letter, when a man I’d never seen before led his dog, a shih tzu with a high-concept haircut, to the corner of my lawn where the ankle-high fence stops. And it was there, in the penetrating light of day, that this godless libertine encouraged his animal to defecate on the grass.

Many homeowners don’t mind this behaviour. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t either: I adore dogs and know that nature sometimes calls without warning. But the lawn is where my kids play, and nothing ruins a good playdate faster than soiled clothing. To make my point of view unambiguous, I’d installed a handsome little sign of a dog, its back distinctively arched, over the word “No!” What the sign may lack in taste is made up for in clarity of messaging. At least that’s what I thought—until this villainous pooch did his business one inch from it.

My question is this: When did dog owners decide they answer only to themselves (and Satan)? I know I sound persnickety and entitled, but I’m not alone in my bafflement. In this city, dogs abound in all their jumpy, humpy, slobbery, bitey ways. And owners seem less interested than ever in policing them.

The municipal authority on canine politics is Paula Fletcher. A councillor of more than two decades, she helped develop the People, Dogs and Parks strategy of 2007, the first time the amalgamated city put rules around off-leash areas. Back then, relations were bad, but in a low-simmer kind of way. Today, the pot is boiling so hard the lid keeps popping off.

During a recent call, Fletcher and I agreed that the pandemic did something to us all: lockdowns and other mandates sparked a broad resentment of government, producing a ripple of lawlessness that at times becomes a torrent. Today, pandemic over, the you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do ethos remains.

Pair that attitude with the dramatic rise in dog ownership (blame lockdown loneliness) and the steady densification of downtown, and you’ve got packs of dogs, nowhere to take them and owners who frankly don’t care what you think.

“You love your dog, it’s your companion, we get it,” Fletcher said. “But you need to understand there are rules. Most people are reasonable and rational—but not everyone is.”

To this I can attest. As can parents who’ve had to shield their toddler from a menacing bullmastiff, senior citizens who’ve been knocked flat by an excitable Weimaraner and store owners who’ve had to remind customers that, yes, “No dogs” applies to your purse Pomeranian.

In short: Toronto has an intractable dog problem. We went to Sarah Liss, a smart, voicey writer and the proud owner of a neurotic Jack Russell terrier mix named Violet, and asked her to make sense of it all. In her story—“Don’t Worry, She’s Friendly!”—Liss explores the etiquette crisis and the preponderance of dangerous dogs stalking our public spaces.

As for the knave whose dog sullied my yard: he caught my arched eyebrow as his companion was mid-act and returned a look of genuine sheepishness. He stooped, scooped and scurried off. I took it as a win. If only all dog-versus-human encounters were so straightforward. As Liss’s piece demonstrates in shocking detail, many are anything but.

Malcolm Johnston is the editor of Toronto Life. He can be reached via email at editor@torontolife.com.