The Venice canals were dog heaven. Now they’re a dog danger
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I can’t tell you the names of the humans at the end of all those leashes, but I can tell you the names of the dogs Poppy and I meet when we walk in the Venice canals.
There is Jet, a friendly Boston terrier who sunbathes on her picnic table and loves to give me a wet kiss when I bend down to greet her. I have no idea who her owners are, only that they indulge me when I step over their low fence for a smooch.
I get a kick out of Mr. Peabody, a fluffy white Pomeranian. “As in ‘Mr. Peabody and Sherman’?” I asked his owner, who gave me a Wikipedia-worthy answer about the cartoon that was a childhood favorite of mine.
I love a literary dog name, so it was a pleasure to meet Larkin, a bouncy black labradoodle. “Oh, you named him for the poet?” I asked. The man nodded. How could I help myself? I belted out the unprintable first line of Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse,” his famous ode to the misery cycle of parenting. Larkin’s human recited the second line. We chuckled and went our separate ways.
Occasionally, we bump into Annie, a droopy-earned springer spaniel, who surveys her canal from her front deck and has her own Instagram account, @CanalSpringer.
The canals are a magical place, an oasis in the middle of a particularly boisterous part of our city. North of Washington Boulevard and east of Pacific Avenue, they feel a world apart from the noise and bustle of Washington Square, the chaotic block of bars, coffee shops and restaurants just east of the Venice Pier.
The grid of waterways are tidal; in the canals, the seawater rises and falls with the phases of the moon. Last year, during a particularly low tide, a distressed tourist asked me what had happened to all the water.
Sometimes Poppy and I stand on one of the charming curved bridges and watch small fish leap out of the water, their scales glinting in the sun.
This summer, we’ve watched a brood of 10 ducklings grow up, and marveled at a great blue heron perched on the top of a house next to a weather vane. Poppy, my 4-year-old golden retriever, doesn’t particularly care about the waterfowl, but she has memorized where every cat lives. She loves to stop at Laura Snoke’s house to paddle in the pan of fresh water that Snoke and her husband, Ed Orrett, put out for the ducks.
Sidewalks between homes and the canal embankments are narrow, so people are almost forced to make conversation as they pass each other or step out of one another’s way. There’s something about the closeness that compels dogs to behave themselves.
It’s devastating that the canals should become a place of death and illness for our beloved pets. But since last month, it became clear that dogs were falling ill and sometimes dying after walking in the canals.
So far, according to the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health, which emailed me an update Friday, there have been five deaths — slightly at odds with the less official neighborhood count of six — and 21 other suspected cases of canal-related illness. Experts, supported by city, county and state agencies, are investigating all possible sources of illness, including pesticide exposure, harmful organisms or environmental hazards.
Anyone who regularly walks in the canals knows that when the tide is out, there is a particularly noxious odor, especially in the northeast corner of the neighborhood, where the water seems to stagnate and the algae blooms. That has led many to wonder if the culprit will be found in the water.
According to the Public Health department, the Water Quality Control Board, a state agency, has tested the canal water, algae and scum. It has found toxins produced by algae, though a link to the dog illnesses has yet to be established.
Still, as the department warns, “For humans, the toxins can cause skin rashes, eye irritation, diarrhea and vomiting. For animals, the toxins can cause diarrhea, vomiting, convulsions and death.”
The city plans to post signs warning of potential danger from harmful algae in the water. Dogs should not enter or drink the water, nor should they eat, touch or sniff algae, scum or any debris near the water.
And in the meantime, anyone with a sick dog who suspects a link to the canals should immediately seek veterinary care for their pet.
“We are not going into the canals at all anymore,” said Nisa Kove, who lives on Strongs Drive just west of Grand Canal. On July 17, she became alarmed when her 50-pound dog Dottie had some sort of seizure. Her eyes moved erratically and she couldn’t keep her balance. The vet found nothing, and Dottie returned to normal.
After that, people began reporting similar issues with their dogs. And worse.
Healthy one minute, in crisis the next. Lethargy, vomiting, seizures. And death.
On July 21, Barbara Malsch lost Shadow.
Then Eric Torres, who spoke with my colleague Christopher Buchanan, lost his 4-year old golden retriever Chloe.
Taylor and John Brumm lost their perfectly healthy year-old golden retriever Ginger, which was a gut punch to me, as Ginger was one of our favorite canal friends.
“Part of me doesn’t even want to walk in the canals by myself anymore because who knows what’s on my shoes?” Kove told me.
Unfortunately, a little bit of vigilantism has also reared its head; on the warning sign taped to a pole at the end of my street someone had scrawled the address of a home a block from the canals. The Westside Current had published a photo of some white powder (gone now) spotted along its property line. I knocked on the door of the house Thursday. It’s a rental; the tenants just moved to Venice from New York. I felt for them. Not exactly the kind of welcome you’d hope for after such a momentous life change.
During the pandemic, I frequently took Poppy to the beach. She loved surfing back to shore after swimming into the ocean chasing a tennis ball. But after the pandemic ended, I kept hearing about people who had received pricey tickets for having their dogs off leash on the sand.
We switched to the canals, a wonderland of scents for creatures like Poppy, who navigate by their noses. And no more ear infections.
But it seems that nowhere is safe during this weird summer.
Early on, there were warnings about toxic debris runoff from the Palisades fire polluting the surf and the sand as well.
Then ailing sea lions began turning up onshore, dying from a naturally occurring neurotoxin produced by harmful algae blooms.
Just about the time it became clear that dogs were being afflicted by something terrible in the canals, a powerful earthquake off the coast of Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula gave rise to tsunami fears along the West Coast.
Lifeguards on loudspeakers urged people to get off the beach, and my phone buzzed with a tsunami warning that was supposed to hit by 1 a.m. on July 30. I didn’t want to spend all night checking my phone, so I packed up my 15-year-old niece and Poppy and spent the night with a friend who lives on higher ground.
The tsunami never materialized, but it was one more thing to worry about.
On Thursday, I wandered around the canals. Not a single dog in sight. Just ducks, their broods trailing in the water. The occasional white egret. And a sprinkling of tourists, many speaking French.
“You can keep the tourists,” Snoke told me. “I just want the dogs back.”
Bluesky: @rabcarian
Threads: @rabcarian
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Ideas expressed in the piece
The Venice Canals represented a magical, dog-friendly community where neighbors connected through their pets, with the author describing it as “dog heaven” and an “oasis” that fostered social interactions among dog owners who knew each other’s pets by name. The transformation of this beloved space into a place of danger represents a devastating loss for the close-knit community that had formed around daily dog walks along the narrow sidewalks and charming bridges.
The mysterious dog illnesses have created a climate of fear and uncertainty, with residents like Nisa Kove stating they are avoiding the canals entirely, expressing concern that even walking alone poses risks due to potential contamination on shoes. This represents a broader pattern of environmental dangers this summer, including toxic debris from the Palisades fire, dying sea lions from algae blooms, and tsunami warnings, suggesting that “nowhere is safe during this weird summer.”
The situation has unfortunately sparked some vigilantism within the community, with someone scrawling a specific home address on warning signs, unfairly targeting new residents who recently moved from New York. This response reflects the community’s frustration and desire to find someone to blame amid the ongoing uncertainty about the cause of their pets’ illnesses and deaths.
The loss of the canals as a safe space for dogs represents more than just a recreational inconvenience—it dismantles a unique community gathering place where the proximity of the narrow walkways “compels dogs to behave themselves” and creates natural opportunities for neighbors to connect. As longtime resident Laura Snoke expressed, while tourists can remain, “I just want the dogs back,” highlighting the central role these pets played in the social fabric of the neighborhood.
Different views on the topic
Public health officials maintain a cautious, evidence-based approach, emphasizing that while algae toxins have been found in canal water, “a definitive link to the dog illnesses has yet to be confirmed”[1][2]. Rather than definitively blaming the water contamination, authorities are conducting comprehensive investigations examining all possible sources including pesticide exposure, harmful organisms, and other environmental hazards.
County health officials report slightly different casualty figures, documenting five confirmed deaths and 26 suspected canine illness cases as of their Friday update, with the most recent illness reported on July 30[2]. This official count contrasts with some community reports of higher numbers, suggesting that informal neighborhood tallies may include cases not yet verified by health authorities.
The response from city, county, and state agencies demonstrates a coordinated, systematic approach to the crisis, with the Water Quality Control Board conducting thorough testing of canal water, algae, and scum while multiple agencies collaborate on the investigation[1][2]. Officials are taking “proactive measures to protect the public and animal health” through posted warning signs and detailed safety guidance, showing institutional responsibility rather than negligence.
Health authorities emphasize that their investigation remains active and comprehensive, with the county Department of Public Health stating they are “treating this matter with the utmost urgency” and working closely with local veterinarians and pet owners to gather information[3]. This ongoing investigation approach suggests that premature conclusions about water contamination may be inappropriate while scientific analysis continues.
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