All things must come to an end.

When we got our puppy, Roxy, I would take her to the end of our block to a small park. In that park was a fenced little league field that was perfect for a new puppy to run.

Roxy LOVES to run! You know canine happiness when you see her lower her head and kick her feet in a blur across a field of green. Her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth, brilliant pink against her black and tan coat. A look in her eye that is sheer joy, tapping into something primal.

As we played a trio of folks found us and started to come early on the weekends to socialize our pooches and give them an hour of exercise. Cooper's mom, Seamus' dad and Spike's mom. (cuz you don't know people's names until MUCH later)

That was six years ago. In those six years we held PPD (puppy play date) in a few locations. It was like a puppy rave; messages going out where to meet from one weekend to the next. Wherever we went, we were diligent about cleaning up and minding our dogs.

The newest installment of PPD is close to 20 dogs, sometimes. The people that come there are more interested in the coffee they sip and the neighborhood gossip that flows. Dogs escape out and wander to the trash across the road, take dumps that go unnoticed and therefore un-scooped, or attack other peoples dogs.

And while all of those problems make me bristle with anger...it's the last one that has sent me packing from the 'pack' I originated.

Roxy was attacked twice by a husky while it's owner just stood there, with the other 'old coots', hands in pockets, jawing about this and that, letting everyone else mind their dogs.

I don't know if I ever used this blog to tell the story of the Good Dog Park where Roxy, as a small puppy, was attacked by two pit bulls and a greatdane. I had to reach in and pull her out of the pile, punching pit bulls in the head to get to her. When she emerged, and I started yelling at the owners of the other dogs, another woman noticed my hand, red with blood. My instant panic was that Roxy, with her black coat, had been injured, and I couldn't see it. I ran her, shaking and practically wrapped around my neck in shock, to the car and carefully checked her out....she was fine. It seemed it was me bleeding! My finger had been ripped open while trying to get to her.

We never went back again.

I'm not saying Roxy is an angel.....she lets the other dogs know she's there for an hour of fetch. It's her ball and her terms and if you know what's good for you - keep a wide berth. So when the new husky came up, she let him know this was her gig and she was top bitch. Instead of scurrying away, like most, the husky came back. This time the two clashed. I yelled at her to stop, she paused, the husky came at her again.

There were two things wrong with this: #1 the owner of the husky never once bothered to come over and pull his dog off. #2 the owner of the husky insists on keeping a 40 foot lead on the dog, which was wrapping around Roxy's neck as they went Cujo on each other.

If the husky didn't bite her, he might just break her neck with the lead.'

I let it go and almost forgot about it, till the husky came back after a short absence of a few weeks. As soon as the husky got wind of Roxy....it was on again. Again I got Roxy to pause and start to walk away and the husky, once again, came at her.

I went to grab the husky, boiling anger taking over. Others standing around started yelling for the dogs to stop. The owner, still standing in his lil clique, oblivious. The lead wrapped around my feet and around Roxy, tangling as the dogs wrestled. I used my 'demon' voice, a loud, guttural blast, that got the owners attention.

He came running, arm flailing. He scolded the husky like a new age mom, telling a kid he would be on the naughty mat till he could figure out what he did wrong. I picked up Roxy's ball and started to walk to the gate.

"No.....no....I'll go." said the husky's dad.

"Eeeeeeyaaaaa.....I'll go." I said. "I have an appointment with a client this morning anyway."

And that was it. A six year tradition, gone in the snap of a jaw and the sear of rope burn from the lead.