The fish in the pond closest to the entrance at the off-leash dog park are dying. The banks have been littered with their bodies. Others are scattered through-out the park where they were dropped by the dogs.
This pond is downhill from a nearby apartment complex with pristine lawns brought about by frequent sprayings from their lawn service. The consensus among the regulars is that the chemicals used on the lawn have washed down into the pond killing the fish.
If the chemicals are harsh enough to kill the fish, they must also be polluting the pond where most of the dogs swim and/or drink.
My better-than-standard poodle, George, hasn’t eaten in two days. I suspect he’s eaten some aged dead fish. Yesterday I boiled a couple of chicken backs and wings to make him some broth, but he didn’t even eat that. The regular food I put out this morning is still untouched at mid-day. If he doesn’t eat by tomorrow, we’ll be visiting the vet.
In the meantime, I’m grateful for weather warm enough for us to keep the back door open because if flatulence was a sport, George would be eligible for the Olympics.