Dog Tales

I read in the paper recently a story about a dog which had been away four years and returned home.    Where had he been all that time?  What had he eaten?   How did he find his way home?    Another story said, research shows a dog thinks like a person.   Amazing animals!

We have two dogs: Dakota, a Sheltie-Pekingese mix who is six and gentle, and Bailey, a beagle who is four, lovable, intelligent and mischievous.   Bailey likes to invade the kitchen trash and the bedroom laundry basket.   Given the chance he will scarf down a person's temporarily unattended dinner.   Dakota follows us around.  If someone is taking a shower, Dakota will lie on the bath mat;  if someone is on the the computer Dakota will lie a few feet away.

Bailey with the container of ice cream he stole from the kitchen trash and dragged outside to snack on.

Bailey peeing in the snow.

Dakota cuddling in my lap.

Dakota Christmas 2012

But this post is mainly about another dog, Doodle, a beagle I had while taught at Putney School in Vermont in the 1960's.  Putney is located on a heavily wooded hill top and dogs run free to roam the woods.   Doodle acquired his name because his predecessor, who was killed by a car, was named Yankee.  Doodle always knew where I was and often, when I was teaching, there would be an energetic scratching on the classroom door which a student would open and Doodle would come in and fall asleep under my desk

At Putney I was the trip director as well as an English teacher and in the summer of 1964 I decided to take six students to the Colorado Rockies for six weeks of hiking and camping.   Without giving it much thought, I opted to take Doodle with us.  Our first trip above Nederland (outside of Boulder) took us up through a glacier, over the continental divide down the west side and across a raging river over which I had to carry Doodle because he was trembling with fear.   Doodle was always running off chasing interesting smells.    On one such excursion he didn't return.  We called and searched but no Doodle.   Heartbroken at the loss of our dear dog we carried on.

Two more nights passed; we went up over the continental divide again at a more northerly spot and eventually down to a parking lot.   We were miles from our car, so we hitched a lift on the back of a pick up truck, the driver of which kindly offered to take us back to our car.  As we were driving up towards our original parking lot, there amazingly was Doodle staggering down the side of the road.  We stopped, Doodle leapt into the back of the truck, turned himself inside out with joy and quickly dropped asleep on my lap.

Doodle, realizing he was lost, followed our original path across the raging brook, over the continental divide, across the glacier and down.  He hadn't eaten (or slept) for two days but was determined to find us. What an incredible feat!   What a dog!

Doodle was also famous for his comical feats.  I lived with my son Don (who was with us on the Rockies trip) in a former barn, a corner of which had been converted into an apartment..  The main section was the school's theater.   One Christmas season I decided to put Doodle in my car (located across the street in a tractor shed), knowing that he would bark that unique beagle bark when the people came for the performance.  The production that year was Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard," a somber, humorless look at Russian life.

I settled in with the parents to watch when, a few minutes into the production, Doodle entered stage left, flipped up his leg, relieved himself against a sofa, and then ate a biscuit which had been left out as a prop. The audience by then was roaring with laughter. Everyone except me and our hard-working drama teacher.   A parent took mercy, picked up Doodle and handed him to me.  I was mortified and apologized profusely to the drama teacher, and the play went on.

On another occasion it was town meeting day in the town of Putney, three miles down hill from the school.   I left Doodle at the school, hitched a ride with another teacher to the meeting where such local issues as stop signs and pot holes in the road were discussed   The selectmen and the lady town clerk sat importantly on the stage.  Again Doodle showed up on stage and stuck his snout under the dress on the town clerk.   This time I leapt into action and snatched Doodle away.   I have no idea how the dog knew I was there.

Finally a sad note:  Before I went to Paris in 1968 to teach at the American School, I gave Doodle to a doctor who lived in Brattleboro, eight miles down the road from Putney.   I learned that Doodle escaped! The doctor terrified that he had lost our dog, employed a variety of remedies to lure him back, the most interesting being acquiring several female dogs in heat! When Don and I returned, there Doodle was. He had walked the eight miles back to Putney School looking for Don and me.  What loyalty!

Bailey, Dakota, and Doodle, like so many dogs, exemplify that noblest of emotions: unconditional love.