The Entitled Dog Owner

A story about what happens when freedom overrides responsibility

The sun was just rising, spilling soft light across the grass. One of those calm, quiet mornings that makes you grateful to be outside with your dogs.
I’d already had one of those this is why I have dog walks—the kind where everyone’s relaxed, sniffing, connected. You know the ones. It was one of those rare and precious mornings where everything just… clicks.
Until it didn’t.

“Roo! Roo! Roooooo!”

The voice echoed across the park like an alarm bell—one that didn’t stop ringing.
The kind of sound that immediately pulls you out of the moment and into something else entirely.
Then I saw him.
A spaniel, Roo, was flying across the grass, weaving around trees, tail up, ears flapping. No owner in sight. Just Roo, running. And running. And… running.
Straight towards the car park.
Straight towards the park entrance that would lead out on to the main road.

I tried whistling—just in case he might pause, hesitate, check in. He didn’t.
People nearby looked at me, looked at each other. No one knew where the owner was. Some had seen Roo heading toward the park entrance a few minutes earlier. No one had seen who he was with.
That’s when I realised… the owner’s voice had come from half a mile back.
They weren’t running to try and catch up with him.
They were two blokes, chatting away, still strolling with another dog—one they didn’t have much control over either.
Let’s call him Billy.

And Then Came Billy…

By the time Billy arrived, we’d already popped our dogs on lead.
Not because they’d done anything wrong, but because we were ready to enter the car park. Safety is our priority.

Billy barrelled over, full of excitement and zero awareness.
Rude. Pushy. Intrusive.

And his owner? Nothing. No recall. No apology. No attempt to intervene.

One of my dogs has no patience for rude dogs, so she let Billy know.
It wasn’t aggressive, but it was firm. The message was a clear: “No thanks.”

Did Billy get it? Nope.
After some more bothering, he left on his terms when he spotted another dog. And off he raced again and so it repeated. And once more that we saw.

And there it was.
What had started as a peaceful morning turned into damage control.
And not just for me—but for every dog and owner he raced up to.

The Entitlement Vibe

Let’s talk about this.
Because we all know someone like Roo and Billy’s owners. The ones who say things like:

• “He just wants to play!”
• “He’s friendly!”
• “It’s a park—he should be able to run free!”
• “Your dog needs to learn to cope!”

But what I felt that morning wasn’t just frustration—it was a quiet sadness.
Not just for my dogs, or the other dogs whose walks were disrupted, but for Roo and Billy too.

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Freedom without responsibility is not a gift—it’s a risk.

Let’s Ask Some Questions…

• At what point did it become okay to let your dog do whatever they want in public space?
• Why does your version of freedom get to override someone else’s need for calm or safety?
• Would you say the same things if it were children instead of dogs?

And the big one:

Is this really about your dog?

Or is it about you not wanting to be accountable?

Let’s Talk About Control (Not the Ugly Kind)

I’m not talking about rigid obedience or robodog expectations.
I’m talking about engagement.
Communication.
Awareness.
And respect—for your dog, for others, for the shared space we’re all in.

Dogs like Roo and Billy can have freedom but not at the expense of others or their safety, because their owner can’t be bothered to do the work; to build a relationship, to train, to teach boundaries.

And let’s be real:

Shouting a dog’s name repeatedly from the other side of the park isn’t training.
It’s background noise.

This Isn’t About “Perfect Dogs”

It’s not about having a perfectly behaved dog who never puts a paw wrong.
We all have off days. Our dogs do too.
Mistakes happen. We manage. We learn.

But this wasn’t that.
This was consistent, casual disregard.
It was, quite frankly, entitlement—the belief that one person’s dog deserves full run of the place, regardless of the impact on others.

What’s the Ripple?

My dogs were unsettled for the rest of the walk.

• Other owners felt the need to tighten up, change routes, leave early.
• A dog came close to bolting onto a road.
• Human emotions ran high—anxiety, frustration, anger.

And the two blokes?
Had what I can only guess was a thoroughly enjoyable walk.
Unaware—or unwilling to care—that they’d left a trail of stress behind them.

So Where Do We Go From Here?

• If you’re someone who lets your dog run off-lead with no recall, ask yourself: why?
• If your dog runs up to others without permission, what’s your plan to change that?
• If you’ve ever said, “He’s friendly!” as your dog ignores another’s signals—pause and reflect.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about your dog or your walk.
It’s about everyone else’s too.
We all want our dogs to enjoy their walks.
But that joy shouldn’t come at the cost of someone else’s

The Sniffly Way

We talk a lot about building a connection with your dog.
About sniffing as a mindful activity.
About slowing down, being present, training together—not for control, but for partnership.

This story?
It’s a reminder of what happens when that’s missing.
We don’t need more rules.
We need more awareness.
More respect.
More dogs and humans working as a team.

Because that’s where the real joy is—not in chaos, but in connection.