Elaine Fraser had been seated in a restaurant for only a few minutes before she realised she could not breathe. A dog, unleashed and wandering between tables, had triggered a panic attack so severe that staff had to intervene, eventually persuading the owner to move the animal. “I have had a phobia of dogs since childhood and can’t get past an unleashed dog,” she later said. The incident, which occurred last week, left her trapped and distressed — and it was not an isolated episode. Two days later, at a market stall, another loose dog was jumping up at passersby and investigating pushchairs. Fraser began crying in public until a kindly stranger noticed and came to her aid.
The hidden toll of cynophobia
Fraser’s experience is a vivid illustration of cynophobia, an intense fear of dogs that affects a significant number of people in the UK. While exact prevalence figures are not routinely collected for the UK alone, globally the condition is recognised as a common specific phobia that can severely disrupt daily life. Sufferers often adopt avoidance behaviours, leading to social isolation and heightened anxiety. The increasing presence of dogs in public spaces — the UK now has an estimated 13.5 million dogs living in 36% of households, a figure projected to rise to 15.5 million by 2026 — exacerbates the problem for those with the phobia.
Treatment options for cynophobia include exposure therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy and hypnotherapy, yet many individuals are unable to access timely help. For Fraser, the simple act of dining out or visiting a market becomes a potential ordeal whenever a dog is off the lead. She asked plainly: “Why do dog owners feel their pets can run loose in public?” Under current law, there is no blanket requirement for dogs to be on a lead in all public spaces. However, local authorities can impose Public Spaces Protection Orders (PSPOs) for specific areas such as parks, sports pitches, roads and beaches. Failure to comply carries a £100 on-the-spot fine or a court fine of up to £1,000. The system relies on enforcement, which many critics argue is inconsistent.
Living with a severe dog allergy
For Judith Cutler, the issue is not fear but a serious physical reaction to dogs. She suffers from a dog allergy so severe that her trusty asthma spray cannot always cope. “No matter how friendly, how lovable, how cute, if it’s a dog with a standard dog’s coat, I can’t risk being near it,” she explained. While a prophylactic drug exists to prevent the worst attacks, Cutler said it comes with “quite severe side effects”.
Dog allergies affect approximately 8% of adults in the UK who are sensitised to dog allergens — a figure that aligns with global estimates of 10–20% of the population. Symptoms range from mild allergic rhinitis and asthma to severe, life-threatening anaphylaxis. For someone like Cutler, the presence of a dog in an enclosed space such as an aeroplane or restaurant is not a mere inconvenience but a genuine health risk. “Surely there must be some dog-free places — and surely they should start with planes?” she asked.
The tension between dog owners and non-owners is underlined by public opinion. A YouGov poll conducted in July 2023 found that 7 in 10 Britons believe it should be unacceptable to dine with dogs in restaurants. Public sentiment is slightly more tolerant of dogs in markets (67% acceptable) and pubs (62%), but plummets for theatres and cinemas (9% each). Despite 96% of dog owners describing themselves as responsible, 86% of the public report having encountered issues such as dog mess, dogs jumping up, or dogs being off-lead in restricted areas. This gap between perception and reality fuels calls for greater regulation.
Calls for a return to dog licensing
Marlene Godfrey of Beverley, East Riding of Yorkshire, argues that the solution lies in a familiar but abandoned instrument: the dog licence. “Dogs do not belong in any public place where food is sold, prepared or eaten,” she wrote. She called for the reintroduction of dog licensing, priced at a high rate and ringfenced to pay for dog wardens to enforce it.
Dog licensing was abolished in England, Scotland and Wales in 1987 following widespread non-compliance and high enforcement costs. It remains a legal requirement in Northern Ireland, where annual fees are charged. The debate over reinstating a national licence has resurfaced periodically, with proponents arguing it could improve welfare standards, reduce stray populations, and fund enforcement of existing laws. Opponents point to the administrative burden and risk of non-compliance that led to its abolition.
Current law already requires dogs in public to wear a collar with an identification tag under the Control of Dogs Order 1992. The Dangerous Dogs Act 1991 bans specific breeds — including the American XL Bully — and imposes muzzling and lead requirements for those allowed under strict conditions. Dog fouling is an offence under the Clean Neighbourhoods and Environment Act 2005. Yet enforcement remains patchy. A dog is considered “dangerously out of control” if it injures someone or makes someone fear injury, which can lead to fines, imprisonment, or destruction of the animal.
The recent flashpoint over dogs in restaurants, sparked by food critic Jay Rayner’s comments on a dog-friendly policy, has renewed attention on the question of where animals should be allowed. For those like Elaine Fraser and Judith Cutler, the issue is not about disliking dogs but about the right to move through public life without fear or physical harm. Fraser’s panic attack in a restaurant, Cutler’s reliance on a drug with serious side effects, and Godfrey’s call for a robust licensing system all point to a growing disconnect between a nation that increasingly welcomes dogs into every space and the individuals for whom that welcome comes at a personal cost.
