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I think it entirely depends on the dogs owner!

Reasonably well trained dogs on leashes with responsible owners (carrying poop bags) aren't a problem; it's the rest that are a pain in the arse!

Owners being dragged behind their dogs winding through crowds, leaving 'deposits', barking at everything and everyone in close proximity, and generally making a nuisance of themselves annoy the hell out of me!

yep arseh*le people are annyoing basically 😂
 

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I think it entirely depends on the dogs owner!

Reasonably well trained dogs on leashes with responsible owners (carrying poop bags) aren't a problem; it's the rest that are a pain in the arse!

Owners being dragged behind their dogs winding through crowds, leaving 'deposits', barking at everything and everyone in close proximity, and generally making a nuisance of themselves annoy the hell out of me!
This
 
I think it entirely depends on the dogs owner!

Reasonably well trained dogs on leashes with responsible owners (carrying poop bags) aren't a problem; it's the rest that are a pain in the arse!

Owners being dragged behind their dogs winding through crowds, leaving 'deposits', barking at everything and everyone in close proximity, and generally making a nuisance of themselves annoy the hell out of me!

Agree with this. I've got a 7 month old kelpie cross pup whose manners just aren't good enough yet (we're working on it!), so wouldn't take him to the footy. But his older sister is a quiet little scruffy terrier who loves people but is polite enough to ask for pats first, so I would take her.
 
Ladhams is a dumbass at times

You do see why port got rid of him
He's a different type of cat - even one of our officials mentioned that in an interview - I can't recall who.

Aside from that they surely knew who & what they were recruiting - now its time to see if he can mature & learn.
 
Of course , but at parks , not being pests at local sport . By the way i love dogs .
I counted about 20 dogs at Casey Fields at that game. Not one was being a pest. Not one went on the field at quarter time, at half time, or at 3qtr time. In fact, we were the only ones that threw the ball for our dogs well and truly after full time in a little pocket where there was absolutely no one. And no, they did not crap on the ground.

Why so cranky
 

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That's why I don't own a dog:D
I'm with you and Bedford Rusty. I like dogs, I really do. I just don't like other people's dogs or understand why some people feel the need to take their dogs everywhere. I don't own a dog because I don't like stepping in dog doo around sports grounds, parks or especially near off-leash areas where dog owners deny responsibility and dogs have priority over space for children to play. I don't own a dog because i live in an inner-city suburb where others would be disadvantaged by the needs and habits of my dog. I don't own a dog because the carbon footprint of a large dog is akin to that of driving a 4WD. I don't own a dog because a dog uses more resources than people who live in poverty. I don't own a dog because I live in the inner-west where dogs already overrun the parks, the paths, the cafes and the beaches. I find it annoyinh yo put up with misbehaving dogs and their poorly behaved owners. I don't own a dog because I consider it cruel to own an animal, to subject it to captivity, bred entirely to respond to the whims of people, to entertain them. Sit boy, stay boy, lie down boy. I don't own a dog because I don't have a large enough back yard to give a dog enough space to enjoy even the pretence of freedom. I won't have a dog inside where they can spread harmful bacteria and parasites to people.

But the main reason I don't own a dog is because one night I drank far too much at a party on the hill above Manly. I thought I'd best not drive home as I was somewhat shit-faced. I had to get outside so I went out and sat in the front passenger seat of my car with the window open. I threw the keys over the back of the car so I could not be tempted to drive. In truth, I was very tired after a long day and I hoped I might nod off quickly before the spins took me and turned my stomach upside down. Too late I was in a tumble dryer of spins. I slung open the passenger door and hung out of my seat for a hearty vomit onto the footpath - please don't judge, dogs do it all the time and even much worse. I didn't take a crap on the footpath nor did I pee on anyone's letterbox to mark my territory. Eventually I felt able to walk so I left the car and staggered home.

Next morning I was up bright at Sparrows Fart. To my surprise I felt pretty good. Disgorging the contents of my stomach the night before had spared me any serious hangover, so I downed a few glasses of water and took off in my running kit to jog the two or three kms to my car. My head began to pound as I neared the car at the top of the hill, but I knew I'd be home again soon for a nice hot shower and coffee. As I slowed to a walking pace my eyes fell on a lovely labrador, a little fat and very black, just like my old dog Blacky (original huh?), the dog I'd lost in an accident as a kid. This dog - whom I shall call Chucky, for reasons which may soon become obvious - looked up from where he's been eating something from the side of the footpath. He caught my gaze with that typical labrador cheeriness that asks if you want to be friends for life. His tail seemed to wag his entire body, from his ribs back to the tip of his tail, so obviously pleased was he to see his first human of the morning.

Now, in case anyone is thinking this is another heart-warming dog story I should warn, this ain't no Lassie tale. Chucky was the sort of dog who can't help but get stolen,he was far too friendly for his own good. He bounded over to me like I was his long lost half dog half human brother with giant fur pockets full of meaty treats and sprayed with doggy hormones. Chucky leapt up with the warmest of greetings, that half hugging, half mugging love embrace that only large dogs can give. As he stood tippy-toes on his hind legs he placed two big paws on my chest. He leaned forward, so our faces were about 15 cms apart, easily within reach of his saliva soaked tongue. Just as that tongue darted towards my face it dawned on me what Chucky had been breakfasting on that sunny morning. The pile of my vomit that I had splayed across the footpath near my passenger side door had been replaced by a slick patch of wet cement, with just a sliver of carrot remaining, a testament to the recycled nature of Chucky's early breakfast. If Chucky was still hungry, he didn't need to wait long for another serv. He watched eagerly as I threw up another helping. 'Mmm, a bit acidic when it's fresh' he seemed to say, but he wolfed it down greedily.

As if hearing a noise he turned suddenly towards his owners' driveway, where the family were beginning to stir. 'Hello Chunks', came a small voice. As I clocked the appropriateness of the dog's actual name, another child appeared from the front door 'I s'ppose you're hungry Chunks, are you boy?' Chunks was eager to greet them both, jumping up and slobbering all over their innocent faces, even as they opened their mouths to protest. For a minute I thought I ought to say something but I didn't know how to without it being misconstrued. I almost began 'Look, I'm really sorry kids but I was a bit drunk outside your house last night. I was leaning out of my car door and blowing chunks but ......' just then an adult appeared. 'Forget it' I thought.

There are good reasons why I don't own a dog
 
I counted about 20 dogs at Casey Fields at that game. Not one was being a pest. Not one went on the field at quarter time, at half time, or at 3qtr time. In fact, we were the only ones that threw the ball for our dogs well and truly after full time in a little pocket where there was absolutely no one. And no, they did not crap on the ground.

Why so cranky
It's not cranky at all thanks , it's some who volunteers their time to junior and senior local footy and sick of people tripping over dogs and having to pick up crap on grounds !
 

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