Opinion: You Should Keep Your Dog on a Leash Outdoors



Dog on a red harness on a leash walks along a sunlit forest trail with a person in the background.

I’m hiking with my three-year-old son when it happens. It’s an encounter I fear most every time we head out on the trail. And no, it’s not a bear. 

An off-leash dog, bigger than my son, comes barrelling toward us. “Don’t worry, he’s friendly!” the owner calls out. As I instinctively step in front of my son—it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been knocked to the ground by an off-leash dog—I feel my blood begin to boil. It’s not the heat or the climb that’s making my heart race. It’s the frustration of knowing that this entirely preventable moment has put my child, the dog and everyone around us at risk.

Before you come at me with #NotAllDogOwners, here’s the deal: personally, I don’t care if you think your dog is friendly. I don’t care if you consider yourself a responsible pet owner. If you’re not in a designated off-leash area, keep your dog on a leash. It’s not about whether your dog has never caused a problem. It’s about respecting the people, other pets and wildlife sharing the trail with you. The rules exist for a reason, and they apply to everyone, not just the dogs that aren’t “friendly.”

Adult and child holding hands on a rocky overlook, with pine trees, a turquoise lake, and towering rugged mountains in the distance.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

I’m going to be blunt. In my opinion, my human child’s safety trumps your desire to let your dog roam off leash. Every. Single. Time.

Because no matter how much you love your dog, it is not a child. It is an animal. And leash rules exist for a reason.

Child wearing a yellow jacket and orange beanie stands at the rocky lakeshore, looking toward a forested lake and rugged mountains beyond.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

My son deserves to feel safe on a trail without worrying about being knocked off his feet by a dog the size of a small bear. In the dark corner where my intrusive thoughts like to linger, I can’t help but worry that one day he could be knocked off the trail altogether.

I’ve taught my son never to approach a leashed dog without asking permission first. But I have no control over an off-leash dog, and that’s what scares me.

I also don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times I’ve been pawed at, jumped on or chased by off-leash dogs, and that’s just while running in the city. For me, the issue becomes even thornier on hiking trails and in our national and provincial parks, whether I’m with my son or on my own. Because, let’s be honest, I don’t enjoy being rushed by an off-leash dog either, and I like dogs. Imagine how people who have a genuine fear of the animals feel?

Brown dog running toward the camera with tongue out in a grassy field, wearing a red collar.

But first, let’s start with one simple fact: it is illegal to have your dog off-leash in a national park as well as most provincial parks in Canada. In Banff National Park, allowing your dog to run at large can result in fines of up to $25,000. This isn’t an “I forgot to pay for parking” kind of ticket. The park means business. And while I recognize fines of that magnitude are probably rare, shouldn’t the possibility alone be enough to keep your dog on a leash?

Beyond the threat of a hefty fine, there’s an even more important reason: leashes save lives.

Mother hugging child beside a camping tent on a lakeshore with pine trees and distant mountains in the background.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

According to the ample signage in Banff National Park, off-leash dogs are a leading cause of wildlife attacks involving both people and pets. Choosing not to leash your dog increases the likelihood of an encounter with wildlife, something that, bear-selfie-taking tourists aside, most of us would rather avoid. Those encounters don’t just put you and your dog at risk. They can also have devastating consequences for the wildlife involved. Animals that become aggressive toward people may have to be relocated or, in the worst-case scenario, euthanized.

The article, “Understanding the Ecological Impacts of Dogs in Natural Areas from the PKOLS-Mount Douglas Conservancy, which draws from over 50 sources including peer-reviewed scientific research, digs into this impact further, explaining that dogs can negatively affect natural areas by disturbing wildlife, causing stress and displacement, threatening birds and other animals, spreading disease and damaging vegetation. Even without direct attacks, the presence and scent of dogs can change wildlife behaviour and reduce habitat use.

Bar chart showing increasing impact on wildlife from trail activities, from no people to people and dogs off-trail (lowest to highest).
Photo by PKOLS Mount Douglas Conservancy

Trails in national and provincial parks aren’t just home to wildlife. Many also serve as horse trails, and horses and off-leash dogs do not always peacefully coexist.

An unleashed dog can pose a serious safety risk to both animals. A dog’s approach may trigger a horse’s defensive instincts, potentially causing it to kick, bolt or react unpredictably. This also puts riders at risk, as a sudden movement or spook could result in them being thrown from the horse.

Hiker in a bright yellow shirt with a backpack and trekking poles on a rocky mountain trail with snow-capped peaks in the background.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

The reason for this reaction is rooted in instinct: horses are prey animals, while dogs are predators. When confronted by an off-leash dog, a horse may respond by trying to flee or defend itself.

For Ben Shepherd, a hike near Lake Louise toward the Plain of Six Glaciers became especially unsettling when a group on horseback encountered a free roaming dog on the trail.

“The horses were getting so stressed,” he says. “And while nothing [serious] ultimately happened, it was not a fun time for anyone.”

Dogs sprint along a dirt trail as the foreground shows a light-colored retriever, with two dark dogs behind; a person stands in the background by the path in a wooded area.

Shepherd also had a frightening encounter with an off-leash dog while cycling the Moraine Lake Road before it opened to public shuttles last spring.

Two cyclists were riding with their dog running beside them off leash when Shepherd approached. An experienced cyclist with plenty of room to pass, he was overtaking the pair when the dog suddenly charged at his bike. He was forced to swerve off the road to avoid hitting the animal, narrowly avoiding a crash.

How do I know this happened? Because the very same dog had charged at me and my fiancée earlier on the ride.

Not only had the owners chosen to let their dog run off leash in a national park, but even after it had nearly caused at least one crash, they still didn’t leash it. It was a staggering display of carelessness. One that could easily have ended with someone seriously injured.

Dog on a leash running on a sunlit park path, person wearing pink shoes visible on the left.

And don’t even get me started on extendable leashes. Why do these things even exist? In my opinion, they’re basically a way to have your dog technically on a leash while giving them enough freedom to cause absolute chaos.

Case in point: I was out for a run when a tiny dog on one of these so-called “leashes” decided to chase me. Yes, I’m deeply embarrassed to admit that this miniature creature, powered by its comically little legs, managed to pass me, but that’s beside the point. The real issue is that I tripped over the leash, completely lost my cool and—this is how you know it was serious—as someone who is deathly afraid of confrontation, I shouted at the owner.

Please, please don’t make me go through that again. Yelling at a stranger has already used up my lifetime quota of confrontation.

Turquoise lake with a rocky shore, dense evergreen forest, and a towering craggy cliff under a bright blue sky.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

So no, this isn’t about hating dogs. It’s about respecting the spaces we all share and the rules that exist to keep them safe. Every time someone unclips a leash where they shouldn’t, they’re making a decision that prioritizes their own/their dog’s convenience over everyone else’s safety: children, runners, cyclists, horseback riders, wildlife and even their own dog.

My son and I will keep hiking. I’ll keep teaching him to respect animals and the outdoors. All I’m asking is that dog owners do the same. Clip on the leash. It’s the simplest thing you can do, and it might prevent the kind of story none of us ever wants to tell.

A woman and child in yellow jackets stand by a calm lake edged by pine trees, with mountains and clear blue sky in the background.
Photo by Jennifer Malloy

Parks Canada Guidelines for bringing your dog to a national park, a national urban park and a national historic site:

  • Always keep your dog on leash (three metres or less)—it is the law.
  • Pick up and dispose of your dog’s waste in a garbage bin.
  • Always give wildlife the space they need.
  • Ensure your dog does not attack, harass or chase a person, animal or vehicle.
  • Select suitable activities and terrain that align with your dog’s and your abilities.
  • Check for area closures, trail restrictions, and for updates on wildlife activity by visiting the park website or a Parks Canada Visitor Centre.
  • Consider leaving your dog at home if you plan to camp, hike or go into the backcountry.

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