Farrell: Why is the Bluffton dog park taking dog years to get built?

Last year, when I was paying my rent one day, I heard that my apartment complex, which is in Bluffton, might be getting a dog park.

Just a few weeks later, there it was.

The dog park.

Practically right outside my door.

And from that moment on, my neighbors and I had a place for our dogs to run and play fetch -- or, if you're my dog, just run, because the smells on that patch of grass on the opposite end of where I'm standing with my hand on my hip and yelling "COME ON!" are much more interesting than the conformity of catching and returning a ball.

That is the story of How the Dog Park at My Apartment Complex Was Built.

My goodness, some of you might be wondering, how ever did the managers at your apartment complex break the laws of physics and the bonds of human strength to construct a dog park so quickly?

Doesn't a dog park take ... nearly 10 years to build?

The answer is no, not at all -- unless it is a venture among a town government, a county government and a nonprofit.

Because, ultimately, a dog park is just a small patch of land and a fence.

One location.

And a fence.

I'm oversimplifying, of course, but not by much.

The Friends of Bluffton Dog Parks, a nonprofit that formed in 2006, has been working with the town of Bluffton and Beaufort County to bring a much-needed public dog park to Bluffton.

After more than nine years of asking eager dog owners to support the cause -- to donate money and attend dog-themed events and bid on auction items -- there is still no park.

While the nonprofit is closer than it has ever been to making the park a reality -- a year ago, the town approved Oscar Frazier Park as the dog park's future home -- the end is not yet in sight.

Not yet in sight.

Again, I say, it's a fence.

It is not monkey bars and tire swings. It's an empty rectangle, where dogs will run for 20 minutes and then leave.

There are templates of "how to build a dog park and what to consider when you do so" in towns and counties all across the country. The answers are a phone call away.

In fact, this could probably even be solved by a Saturday DIY class at Home Depot.

In lieu of a dog park, though, donors have instead gotten over the years:

This isn't to knock the work the nonprofit has done. The board has been made up of community members with full-time jobs of their own to worry about, who feel strongly that a dog park is needed in a rapidly growing area and who have put up with more than their share of drama over the years.

In 2013, after their board president was caught stealing $10,000 and killed himself, they reset the clock with a shakeup and a new resolve to get this done. Since then, they have made some progress.

But when I take one tiny step back to look at the full picture, I see a portrait of absurdity and a Snuffleupagus of a situation -- what I mean by this is something that, much like Big Bird and his imaginary pal, only the Friends of Bluffton Dog Park seems to see.

And I don't get it.

When a community tries to make a change and decide on something together, a certain culture forms.

There are opinions and personalities and conspiracy theories. There are ideas and better ideas and worse ideas. There are down times and dropped balls. There are up times and pats on the back. There are people who like each other and people who don't. There are pointed fingers and politics.

Then there are the concerns and the bureaucracy and the resolutions and the slowness.

This is ever thus, though. These are the realities of making things happen in a neighborhood.

No matter what you try to do, this is what you'll encounter in some measure.

The only solution is accountability. And that has been lacking here.

Hopes and dreams are simply just that unless someone says, "How's that novel coming, Jack?" or "How's your diet going, Phillip?" or "Where'd all your money for that trip to New Zealand go, Vanessa?"

If the people of Bluffton want a dog park, they need to speak up. They need to ask questions. They need make it clear that it's a priority so we don't have another nine years of hearing about "the dog park that's coming to Bluffton."

I chatted with current Friends of the Bluffton Dog Parks president Deborah Karambelas on Tuesday, and asked her what she'd say to the people who have been hanging in there, who have been hearing about a dog park for nearly 10 years -- the average lifespan of a dog, by the way -- and who have been hoping for a place where their dogs can romp with other dogs.

"I would say we are going to have a dog park in Bluffton. Stay committed. Talk about your dog park and remember to continually let the town know that you want a dog park so they keep it at the top of the paper on their desks," she said.

"It's going to happen."

Follow columnist and senior editor Liz Farrell at twitter.com/elizfarrell and facebook.com/elizfarrell.

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This story was originally published January 6, 2016 at 5:34 PM with the headline "Farrell: Why is the Bluffton dog park taking dog years to get built?."