When the leaves turn red and the weather drops ten degrees, my family and I know it is the perfect time to bring our dog Max to the Carl Schurz Dog Park. Max is a redheaded cavapoo with big, soft, trusting brown eyes. His tail is always wagging, and he is known for his sweet disposition. Fall is our favorite time to visit the dog park, but it’s a place we enjoy in every season. We leash Max and head out, eager to watch him play. The walk from our house all the way East on Manhattan’s Upper East Side is a perfectly scenic walk down some of the quietest, tree-lined streets in the city.
As we approach the park, the East River appears in the distance, and more and more owners show up with their dogs. All different breeds represent the Upper East Side neighborhood. I see fluffy chestnut and black doodle mixes like Max, and smooth-haired pittie mixes approaching the park, ready to mingle. The dogs come with their owners who are short, tall, young and old. Some dogs match their owners in physical style – I see a curly haired goldendoodle with her curly haired owner; I see a plump, grumpy bulldog with his stubby owner who has a scowl on his face. Each owner has a dog to match their manner and character.
Once inside the park, there are two different dog runs set up for different sizes: the “big” dog park and the “small” dog park. We always go to the small dog park, given that Max is barely eleven pounds. The big dog park is double the size, giving larger dogs room to play. The small dog park, however, is higher up and has beautiful views of the East River. The water shines with different lights as the sun moves throughout the day. In the mornings, a softer light hits the deep blue water. In the evening, a deep orange shines across the horizon.
As we approach the small dog run, I spot the two gates designed to prevent dogs from escaping, something Max attempts often. One gate is closed at all times, to prevent dogs from running away. I am always extremely careful walking in, slipping past the gates without ever opening them fully. Once in the park, I unleash Max, setting him free. However, he is not as social as many of the other dogs; he is very shy. He doesn’t run with excitement; instead, he follows my mom and me to a bench, where we sit down. Max sits next to us on the bench and takes time to adjust while we watch the more rambunctious dogs fight over a ball, racing each other. It is almost always a French bulldog doing this. There is always one in the mix of different breeds of dogs at the dog park. I have learned they have the most moxie and energy when it comes to dominating the small dog park.
I try to help Max acclimate by sitting on the ground with the other dogs, hoping they’ll come up to us: a white shih tzu, a perfectly groomed red poodle, a gray French bulldog panting and drooling, and, almost always, a puppy trot past me. The puppies are my favorite to observe. Whenever I spot one, I track down the owner to ask about the breed, age and name. Once, a few weeks ago, I found a cockapoo puppy with a perfectly soft chocolate coat named Tiramsu. He was four months old and hid next to his owner as he observed the older dogs’ routines of playfully growling and barking at each other. Sometimes their play gets too rough, and the owners have to intervene, separating their dogs like children at a playground.
Last week, I met an eight year old at the park. She asked me what breed Max was and told me she comes to the dog park all the time. She really wants a dog, but her dad won’t let her have one. She reminds me of myself when I was younger; I would come to the park everyday after school and sit for hours watching and playing with the dogs, without one of my own. It took many years, but eventually my parents caved, and we got Max.
Due to recent renovations this past summer, the big dog park is fully revamped. It has beautiful turf and landscaping, while the small dog park is just a rectangular slab of concrete. I walked by a sign a few weeks ago explaining that donors had contributed $300,000 toward the big dog park’s renovation. Nevertheless, what makes the small dog run special is the people and dogs who come. It is always full, no matter the weather, of neighborhood regulars and newcomers.
I have been coming to the dog park since I was nine. I am now sixteen, and the feeling has not changed at all. It is a feeling of not only nostalgia, but pure joy of being a part of the dog community. We all have something in common: a love for our dogs, as well as for this quiet, untouristed section of Manhattan. Although I love to come year-round, my ultimate favorite time of year is fall while the leaves are changing. Going to the dog park fills me with joy, and I can’t help but smile from ear to ear. As soon as I step past the gate, I feel like a kid again. You could look at me playing with a puppy and think I had just won the lottery. I will continue to come to the Carl Schurz Dog Park for many years to come.
