The New York Times has an article on Doughboy Plaza, the small dog run located in Woodside. From the looks of it, the writer gives it the thumbs down, but his dog seems to like it when there are other dogs around to play with. There's also mention of the much larger Sherry Park dog run that's located on Queens Blvd. by the entrance to the BQE.
The New York TimesDog Day AfternoonsBy DAN SALTZSTEIN
Published: August 9, 2008
THE dog run at 56th Street and Woodside Avenue in Woodside, Queens, is, frankly, a disgrace to dog runs everywhere. Tucked away behind Public School 11 in an elevated corner of Doughboy Plaza, it’s less a dog run than a small, squarish pit of dust.
The site boasts the boilerplate sign — “Rules of the Run†— which indicates an official New York dog run. But other than some shade on hot, sunny days and an overstuffed garbage can that appears to be emptied every week or so, the run has very little going for it.
The ground is covered with dirt from which odd pieces of concrete and metal mysteriously protrude here and there. There is no hose or water supply, only a baby-blue plastic bowl that can be filled at a water fountain about 40 yards away. Given the nature of the terrain, the many gates to be opened and the trickle produced by the fountain, filling the bowl is neither easy nor pleasant.
Mandy, the 3-year-old black mutt that my wife and I adopted last year, doesn’t appear to hate the Doughboy run as much as I do. She gets to socialize when other dogs visit the run, but that is rare, and as a result, she returns to our apartment covered in dust and still full of energy. When I walk her through Doughboy Plaza, she often pulls toward the dog run, then loses interest when she doesn’t find a playmate. It’s always a sad moment for us both.
Apparently, I am not alone in my feelings about the Doughboy run.
“Oh, this place is awful!†a local dog owner told me one day. “We almost never come here.†Then she added, “Have you been to the one at 65th and Queens Boulevard? Now that’s a dog run!â€
On a recent Saturday, we decided to seek out this Dog Run of Eden. However, when we made our way to the intersection to which we had been directed, things did not look good. We found ourselves at the junction of Queens Boulevard and the entrance to the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. This neither looked nor sounded like the ideal place for a dog run.
We crossed Queens Boulevard. We crossed back. I called 311, the city’s official help number, but the very pleasant woman who answered didn’t seem to have access to a dog-run database. A Web search on my Treo yielded a map on the parks department site displaying a big block of green called Sherry Park. All we saw was highway. Then we spotted the run, which was, in fact, right where Queens Boulevard meets the B.Q.E.
I’d pictured the park as bursting with nature. Not just green, but covered in grass (or at least wood chips), with a profusion of trees for shade. Being a relatively new dog owner, I wondered if this expectation was based on repeated viewings of “The Dog Whisperer,†which is set in Los Angeles. In L.A., or at least on the show, dog runs are huge spaces and very green.
At least there were dogs. Sherry Park, as it turns out, is a large expanse of concrete, perhaps five or six times the size of the Doughboy run, and set far enough back from the street that the noise from the highways isn’t terribly noticeable. A bunch of dogs immediately ran up to us, and within a few minutes, Mandy was frolicking happily.
The only green area was a small slope at the back of Sherry Park, which the dogs didn’t seem particularly interested in, and the weeds that invariably flourish amid urban concrete.
MANDY is an obsessive sniffer, and nothing grabs her interest as much as unusual plants. She licks tall grass and loves to bury her face in leafy weeds. Still, she didn’t seem bothered by the concrete. Upon arriving at the dog run, she immediately started wiggling and hopping around, the way she does when she is excited. In fact, all the dogs visiting Sherry Park that day seemed more playful and at ease than the ones I’d seen at the Doughboy run.
Sitting at one of three shaded concrete tables, each of which had a built-in chessboard, was Raquel Leon, 25, of Woodside. Ms. Leon was visiting Sherry Park for the first time with her father, whom I had met at the Doughboy run with Draco, the family’s golden retriever. Ms. Leon summed up the differences between the runs. “They don’t really like it,†she said of dogs’ reactions to the Doughboy run. “They need space.â€
Debbie Phelan, who was accompanied by Lucy, her terrier-Lab mix, agreed. “It’s well kept here,†Ms. Phelan said. “People look after it.â€
And, indeed, as I looked around, I noticed what I first took to be a portable toilet (for humans, presumably), but which turned out to be a tool shed, flanked by gardening implements that at least suggested the possibility of regular upkeep.
“It’s a pity there aren’t more,†Ms. Phelan said of the run. “This is a good one. Well, it’s the only one I know around here, but we like it.â€
As our dogs explored and roughhoused, we were joined by Josie Callanan, 37, of Woodside, and her Jack Russell terrier, Jinx, a k a Jinxsie. Ms. Callanan didn’t think much of the Doughboy run, either. “It’s too small,†she said. “It’s not a dog run.â€
The day was hot and humid, and as the dogs settled down in the shade of the tables or lapped at the water in one of two metal bowls, my thoughts wandered. Was this as good as it got for the hundreds of dogs in the neighborhood? Were the only options tiny and dusty or big and concrete?
Despite the generally positive vibe — Mandy was simultaneously panting with fatigue and wiggling with happiness — I had to admit that I was disappointed. Then, Ms. Phelan, as if reading my mind, asked: “Have you been to Forest Park, out by Woodhaven Boulevard? Great dog run.â€