I'd like my son to line out for Leinster. I read. Voluntarily.

There are some things, however, on which one should not compromise, even at the risk of giving offence. Like one's dog.

Last week on this page, Tony Quinn, apparently a fellow denizen of Dalkey, waded into the debate on 'killer' dogs. His granddaughter was "frightened and endangered", he wrote, by an Alsatian "allowed to roam freely" in DalkeyKilliney Hill Park.

Particularly in light of coverage of last week's incident in which a girl was reportedly bitten by a pitbull terrier - and I'm sure that no responsible newspaper in this country would attempt to whip-up public hysteria about 'killer' dogs off the back of such a tragic but rare occurrence - it occurs to me that we're facing further pressure on the few amenities available to our devoted canine companions.

Like the ability to play offlead in a few suburban spots like Killiney Hill.

At around lunchtime on any given Sunday, the car park is full beyond capacity with people enjoying some of the best scenic views in Ireland. It's very popular with families and kids love it. So do dogs. And therein lies the biggest source of tension on the hill.

Most dogs are pretty straightforward. Trained properly, they take their cues from the people around them about how they should behave. But kids are unpredictable. They're attracted to dogs. They want to play.

They want to pet them, mostly to the utter delight of both parties. But occasionally the dog will do something unexpected, such as jump up; or the child might do something unexpected, such as lunge for the dog's collar, which makes them feel threatened.

Children can become frightened in such situations, particularly if they're unfamiliar with dogs. The reaction of children depends quite a bit on the adults with them. A child might be startled by a dog, but more often than not will look to the facial expressions of their parents to figure out whether they should be afraid. Fear or anger on the parent's face is their emotional cue.

Even with the occasional awkward moment over a paw print left on a formerly pristine pink puffer coat whose three-year-old owner is wiping dog saliva off her face, people get on with each other in this increasingly rare environment that sees dogs and people interacting as they have throughout most of human history.

This is as it should be because the risk in such encounters is quite low. A study of dog bites by the department of paediatric surgery at the University of Graz, Austria, published in a 2006 issue of the journal Pediatrics, found that 82% of dog bites of children were from dogs familiar to the child. The biggest risk factors were behaviours of certain breeds, to be sure, but the behaviour of parents, dog owners and the children themselves are at least as important.

A landmark 2000 study in Australia, in fact, found that teaching children about dog safety has a massive impact.

A group of seven- and eightyear-old children were given a 30-minute training session at school by a trained dog handler. Then two groups of children, one that had been taking the class and one that had not, were exposed to a labrador tethered to a post and secretly videotaped.

Some 79% of the children who had not taken the class petted the dog without hesitation and tried to excite it. Just 9% of the kids who had taken the class did so.

I don't know if Tony Quinn's granddaughter was ever given some guidance about how to behave around dogs and I wasn't there to see the incident he described, but I know that Irish public debates of late have a worrying tendency to conflate emotional states - "frightened" - with more sinister notions - "endangered" - without stopping to ask whether they are the same thing and coming up with sensible ways to reduce the risk of actual harm that we face every day doing the ordinary things that make life worth living.

Like being able to take your dog for a walk.