Halloween Dog Parade Draws 1000s to Tompkins Square Park

In the popular event’s 35th edition, costumed canines and their likewise creatively clad humans kept the crowds amused, aroused, and cheering.

| 20 Oct 2025 | 02:55

Thousands of dog lovers and spectacle seekers descended on the East Village to take pictures of and cheer for hundreds of their favorite costumed canines and their owners in the 35th annual Tompkins Square Halloween Dog Parade on Sunday, Oct. 19.

The parade was nearly canceled in October 2023, until a last-minute benefactor, Get Joy pet food company, ponied up the required security deposits with the city that allowed the parade to venture outside the park—which it did, and does, padding down Avenue B from East 13th to East 6th streets.

Though this year’s event included a ceremonial costume competition (won by a “Cereal Killers”-themed float), the event’s primary missions are community joy and pet adoption, as well as promoting the pet food of the event’s current sponsor, Stella & Chewy’s.

Weather for the event was sunny and warm, with the temperature around 70 with a touch of sweet humidity in the air. All in all, it was an ideal burst of Indian Summer that allowed a scantily clad showgirl outside the park, and shirtless men doing workouts inside the park, to be equally comfortable baring their skin to Helios, Sol, Ra, Surya—choose your own Sun God.

The near balmy but calm air had other advantages too, allowing humans and dogs alike to give their imaginations the best possible showing. As much as the parade proper, East 6th and East 10th streets between Avenues A and B, made for a fascinating scene so did the people who’d traveled to the park uncostumed who opened up various bags and began adorning themselves for the show.

The parade was a short one, with minimal security from the NYPD, though there were some cops guarding parade-route fences and traffic control blocking off side streets.

The event itself, however, had its own security apparatus, who, while affable enough were not particularly accommodating to members of the press who are accustomed to having free rein, more or less, at virtually all city parade routes other than Macy’s Thanksgiving parade.

The parade drew no politicians or other dignitaries.

Speaking of which, a huge number of people jamming themselves around the corner of East 10th Street and Avenue B made photographing the parade-goers over the growing crowd of spectators a challenge.

Here, after mingling among the celebrants, including quite a few costumed dog moms who, while they weren’t marching in the parade (which required pre-registration), nonetheless wanted to dress up and be with their pooches, this roving reporter settled upon a spot by the gate about mid-block, where the parade would turn into the park.

Among the many highlights seen on and off the official parade route: a tall blond woman who may have been a Ziegfeld Follies showgirl, both she and her dog adorned with pink feathers; a man dressed in Beastie Boys-style with a Knicks hat, a Giants jersey, a comically immense silver chain, and his dog in a Charles Oakley jersey; a rolling Guns N’ Roses rock band of dog musicians being pushed by imitation Axl Rose and Slash; a dog dressed as a hot dog, his mom as a Big Apple; and a dog dressed as a sushi plate. Carrying this trans-species theme further, one man marched with both his dog and a cat, the latter in a see-through backpack he wore on his chest.

If not the fanciest costume, perhaps the most surprising was the dog dressed as a Timberland boot, evoking both the Brooklyn hip-hop legends Smif-n-Wessun, one of whose signature songs is “My Timbz Do Work,” and the character Foot, from Harry Crews’s classic 1968 novel, “The Gospel Singer.”

Politics were largely absent from the parade. This reporter saw no Trumps or anti-Trumps, nor any flags of Palestine or keffiyeh-clad canines. One small dog with a Zohran shirt was spotted but sandwiched between more extravagantly dressed marchers, the four- legged canvasser didn’t attract much attention, though one middle-aged white man wearing an Izod shirt and holding his leashed poodle said, with a distinctly displeased New York accent, “Oh, come on.”

“What’s the matter, man, you don’t want ‘free’ pet care?” said a bystander, leaning into the word ‘free’ with obvious sarcasm.

As if in riposte to this exchange, up came a couple of parade volunteers in red T-shirts from Stella & Chewy’s, handing out free dog treats.

It was an ideal burst of Indian Summer that allowed a scantily clad showgirl outside the park, and shirtless men doing workouts inside the park, to be equally comfortable baring their skin.