Top 10 Dog Parks in America
Congratulations to the re-made Tompkins Square Park dog run in New York City’s East Village, which in September 2009 was announced as one of the top 10 dog parks in America by Petside.com.
The website raved: “One of the first dog parks opened in New York City, Tompkins Square was renovated last year and now offers small and large dog areas, three pools for dogs to cool off in, free tennis balls, and seating for owners. This free park is open 6 a.m. to midnight.”
Top 10 Dog Parks in America
Petside’s rankings were based on park size, amenities and activities, hours of operation and cost of entry. Parks must be off-leash to make this coveted list.
“We know how much everyone benefits from a trip to the dog park—from pet exercise and training opportunities to socializing for both dogs and humans,” said Joshua Fried, Petside.com’s top dog. “We are excited to highlight such a diverse group of spaces and activities offered all across the U.S.”
Top 10 dog parks in America. Photo courtesy First Run Friends
So where are the top 10 dog parks in America? Without further ado, and in no particular order, we unleash the full list:
- Happy Tails, Plantation, Florida
- Rocky Top, Princeton, New Jersey
- Ossining, Ossining, New York
- Jackson’s Howlabaloo, Edinboro, Pennsylvania
- Shaggy Pines, Ada, Michigan
- Bea Arthur, Norfolk, Virginia
- Fort Woof, Fort Worth, Texas
- Point Isabel, Richmond, California
- Dog Wood, Jacksonville, Florida
- Tompkins Square, New York City
Now, as a special tribute to Tompkins Square Park (old stomping grounds of the publisher of Pets Adviser), we present a story from 2007 about one day in that park. Just an ordinary day, one guy, two dogs, too many sights and sounds to count. We hope you enjoy this diversion:
I could have sworn the two hounds would wear themselves out even before we reached the dog run.
Hobbs — a lumbering, drooly basset hound, and Lulu, a bloated version of a dachshund (with a bit of beagle for good measure) — stood now at the park gate, breathless, but tails wagging furiously in anticipation. We had run madly a few blocks, most of the way there, the wind in our ears, the late evening sun at our backs, something of a canine-human-canine spectacle zooming through the East Village.
Lulu poked her snout curiously through the space between the metal bars of the gate as I freed the dogs from their leashes. I unbolted the ponderous latch with a loud clang, and the dogs were off in a cloud of dust before I could even swing the door fully open.
Inside the park, a friendly black Lab came over to sniff my pants legs. Hobbs let out a celebratory “Woooof!” from the other side of the park, kicking up dirt with his hind legs, then darted off again.
I found a nice spot in the shade, and Lulu leaped up onto the picnic table beside me, panting loudly, dirt visible on her tongue, truly happy. I rubbed the soft spot behind her ears and listened to the music wafting in around us. Outside the dog run near some park benches, two musicians — on upright bass and acoustic guitar — were deep into an upbeat Simon and Garfunkel number, as a smiling girl in tap dance shoes clickety-clacked in perfect harmony.
