When I were a lass alert
Let's wind back to the 1960s in South London.
Dog licences were 7s6d which was exactly 3 eighths of £1.0s.0d
Many people didn't bother.
Dogs were routinely let out of the house to roam the nearby streets on their own (or with their doggie friends).
You had to keep a constant lookout for dog shit on the pavement. When I was walking with DM, into my teens, she would routinely warn me that some poo was coming up, so I could avoid it.
It was fairly common to tread in it without realising. The realisation came later, after you'd got back home, when eventually someone would realise by the smell. If you were lucky, this might even be before you had walked across the living room carpet.
There'a an episode in The Royle Family where exactly this happens - and that was set in Manchester some 30 years later.
And now, to the 1950s
When I was primary school age, I was bitten by a terrier or similar dog I approached in the park. The dog gave a reflexive snap which broke the skin and I bled. IIRC the owner was mortified, and it may have been that the dog had a slight injury which made it defensive.
And yes, I was with an adult - my DF. Unfortunately he was hopeless at keeping an eye on me (many other instances of this).
Off we went to A&E to get me a tetanus jab in case the dog's saliva had contained Clostridium tetani, the Lockjaw baccillus.
After that, I knew to ask the owner if I wanted to approach a dog in a friendly way.
Why am I telling you? In hopes what happened in the past might help you younger lot solve the present problem.