Publication Date: Wednesday Jun 21, 2000

Bad dogowners!

I have lived in Palo Alto for 17 years and thought I knew my community. As a newspaper reporter and a video producer, I have covered city council and planning meetings, interviewed activist and agitators, profiled the warts and winners of this area. And, overall, my impression has been positive--Palo Alto has always seemed to be filled with concerned, thoughtful, proactive people working to make it the best place possible to live.

In the past month, I've had reason to reconsider. A loss of civility in our daily discourse has been bemoaned in these pages before-at city Hall, on our roads, in our shops and schools. But I believe the recent behavior of a small group of people protesting Stanford's new plans for the foothills is noteworthy in its intensity and virulence. The Palo Altans I know would not like to be associated with it.

I'm one of about ten people who've been sitting for 2-3 hour shifts at the Stanford Avenue entrance to the Dish, offering information to hikers about the university's new conservation policy. We knew some people would be upset about the future no-dog policy established in the plan. But, overall, we thought that setting aside several hundred acres as a long-term conservation area, restoring the damaged hillsides and still allowing access for hikers and joggers would make the community happy.

So I approached my time at the Dish table with little trepidation. Friends even joked about my easy assignment, sitting in the open air, getting a tan, chatting with people.

Hardly.

None of the volunteers who have manned the information table-staff members, students, professors, and community supporters-has walked away without some unpleasant incident to report. While the majority of people have been friendly and interested in Stanford's plan, a small, astoundingly aggressive group of people has made our job extremely stressful.

One volunteer staffing the table during the "howl-in" staged by dog owners was called a "Nazi" and a "whore" while her 13-year old daughter looked on. None of the 100 or so dog owners bothered to intervene. The weekend before, one aggressive man pushed his face to within one inch of a volunteer's and screamed obscenities. Another grabbed copies of Stanford's pamphlet, ripped them to shreds and scattered them in the wind.

These behaviors go way beyond just being immature. They are appallingly rude-even abusive-and reveal an intensity of anger inappropriately aimed at Stanford.

In fairness, most of the dog owners who oppose the plan have been civil, occasionally even friendly. But if they don't verbally lash out, many have copped a defiant attitude the minute they walk in the gate. They refuse to acknowledge the volunteers and instead let their dogs speak for them. One laughed after her dog peed on the Stanford banner covering the table; another removed her dog's leash the minute she walked in, encouraging Fido to romp in the fields, and looked the other way when he pooped several feet from our table.

Particularly puzzling has been the sense of entitlement some people feel toward Stanford's private lands. I, too, am a dog owner and know the frustration of trying to find open space for my two puppies to enjoy. I've appreciated all the years I've been able to use the Dish for this purpose. But I respect Stanford's right to close the gate to whomever it wants. I'm just thankful the new conservation plan doesn't inhibit my own ability to enjoy the Dish, albeit without my dogs.

Stanford shouldn't be punished for being responsible. Should the university have to provide the local dog run? What are public parks for? Why aren't people picketing their city, county and state parks to get more acres of unleashed access for their dogs? One woman who complained about how unfair it is that there are few parks left where people can take their dogs was stunned when informed that the Dish is not a park, it's private property.

Some of the angriest dog owners resort to a litany of conspiracy theories about Stanford's "true intentions." They've eagerly bought into every false claim that Stanford is planning on developing the foothills, putting dense condos from Highway 280 to Junipero Serra Boulevard, high rises on the hill, has secretly laid miles of underground irrigation, and on and on. You name it, Stanford is planning to do it, according to these people.

These critics have raised suspicion to a high art without considering the facts, which are readily available. But some of them don't want the facts. They just want to drop insults, then go on their merry way, having a delightful hike in Stanford's back yard. I wonder if I might go to their house, yell at them, then help myself to a cup of tea and pick flowers in their garden.

Reasonable people can and should disagree in a democracy. And Palo Altans have always seemed to me to be reasonable, thoughtful people. Learning to listen and being willing to weigh facts over emotion will bring the much-needed return to civility in this debate.

Megan McCaslin, a Palo Alto resident, is a 1978 graduate of Stanford University and a consultant for the university's Office of Government and Community Relations. 

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