WASHINGTON TYKES

Microchipping event at Furry Rascals--only $39.00

2011-11-13T07:05:00.005-05:00

Dogs get lost. We hate to think about it, we say we'll never let it happen to our dog, and then we see those unbearably sad notices taped to a lamppost, and we know most of those dogs were never found again (though there is the occasional happy ending).

A microchip in your dog isn't an absolute guarantee that he or she will be returned to you in such a situation--you don't get a little tracking device with it that you can use to find your errant pooch--but it's the best available system of making sure that he or she can be identified if found by somebody else (and particularly the authorities, who have been known to euthanize dogs that can't be identified as belonging to someone). It's actually required by law if you're going to travel to Europe and other exotic locales with your dog, and it's a very good idea if you're going to travel with him inside the country as well.

You can sign up at the store, or on their Facebook page, which is listed under Dog Friendly Links, just over on the right side of the page you're reading now. If you have any further questions, call Furry Rascals at (212) 923-0000. And you can also ask them when their next puppy obedience classes will be held, since good training is the best way to make sure you never need to rely on that microchip in the first place.

Suddenly last summer--actually summer BEFORE last summer

2011-11-03T12:45:00.010-04:00

I am, as any regular reader knows, the worst blogger in the known universe. It's not something I try to be, just natural talent, I guess. Point is, I often upload pics to the blog, with the intention of making an article out of them, then other stuff gets in the way, and I just forget to ever finish the article, and it remains in draft form, buried at the back of my to-do list. For years, even.

Such a case is this--these images from the Fort Washington Park Dog Beach were taken in August--of 2010. Argh.

If you are a regular at the dog beach, below you will find many a familiar face--and one face we will never stop missing there--Duke, who passed some months ago.

So as the chill winds of Autumn blow, and we prepare ourselves for more freak snowstorms and who knows what else--remember--the dog beach will be waiting for us all next summer. Assuming there's no more sewage plant disasters. Or that they don't close down the whole park to 'improve' it. And assuming we survive the next few months. As Brendan Behan once said "Still and all, we live through winter, and the divil wouldn't kill us in summer." Though the humidity might.

A Tale of Two Clinics

2011-10-27T21:20:00.015-04:00

This is the one you DON'T take your dog to.
This past summer, The New York Post ran this piece on Riverside Animal Clinic, at 187th Street and Fort Washington Avenue. A bulldog essentially barked himself to death while being boarded there. Being the New York Post, of course, they got Riverside Animal Clinic mixed up with the well-regarded Riverside Animal Hospital, which is down around 108th St.--much to the distress of Riverside Animal Hospital, which was bombarded with negative calls--believe it or not, the story about the poor bulldog even made it into the Daily Mail, a British tabloid.

And it just recently occurred to me that Riverside Animal Clinic is actually nowhere near Riverside Drive, which terminates well south and west of it. It's in Hudson Heights--Hudson Heights Animal Clinic would surely make a rather stylish distinctive name for a vet practice. So why is it called Riverside Animal Clinic? It finally dawned on me that the similarity in names might be deliberate, since Riverside Animal Hospital was well established as a reputable practice, long before Riverside Animal Clinic showed up. I wonder how many people have heard good things about the former, then confused it with the latter--sooner or later, it was going to work the other way around as well.

Anyway, the piece brought up some bad memories for me. It's been a long time since I set foot in Riverside Animal Clinic, though I pass its clean, well-lit, comfortable and oh-so-inviting storefront office all the time. I'd recently moved into the neighborhood with my dog Peggy, and was finding it hard to get her to the Bronx practice she'd been going to up to that time (New Yorkers without cars always have problems finding a good vet thanks to the idiotic banning of dogs much larger than a guinea pig from mass transit).

R.A.C. seemed to be a reputable-looking place, and it was nearby. I didn't inquire as to the practice's reputation. I didn't look at the available alternatives. I wasn't really hooked into the dog culture at that point. Peggy's dislike of other dogs made it hard to talk to other dog people about vets. Internet information resources weren't as well-developed. There was no Rocky Run back then either. I often wonder what kind of difference a dog run would have made to Peggy's notoriously touchy relationship with her own species.

Not long after she reached her 10th birthday, as fit and vital as she'd been at half that age, Peggy developed a growth on her gum, and I took her in to see Dr. Ramos at Riverside Animal Clinic. He diagnosed it as an epuli (this was after I had mentioned to him that I thought it might be an epuli, based on internet research). She had surgery to remove the growth. It was very expensive, but we didn't have any clear idea what it should cost, and it was Peggy. We'd have paid anything to keep her in the world a few more years, as long as she wasn't suffering.

She seemed to be okay for a few weeks--then the lump started growing back. Then she began to lose her energy, became increasingly (and very atypically) listless and apathetic. Then one day she collapsed, when I was at work--we rushed her to the Animal Medical Center's 24/7 ER in a livery cab. The staff lived up to that institution's sterling reputation, grabbing her out of our arms as we went up in the elevator, and trying their best to revive her (I've never seen this level of response at a human ER)--but she was probably gone before we got in the taxi. No, they didn't bill us. When they do bill you, you surely know you've been billed, but that is one veterinary facility where the term 'hospital' is no mere honorific.

As we stood there quietly weeping over her body, the young female doctor gently explained that an internal growth had burst a major blood vessel, causing her to bleed out internally. A growth Dr. Ramos never so much as suspected. In all fairness, a growth like this is hard to detect, by its very nature--but still--he'd just operated on her. A short while later, we got a generic condolence card from Riverside Animal Clinic in the mail--presumably the AMC informed them, because we never did. We threw the card away. No animal of ours will ever go there again.

Dr. Ramos' fault? Maybe not. Mine? Definitely. I didn't do my homework. I didn't shop around. I figured one vet was about as good as another. Peggy had been so indomitably mutt-healthy for most of her 10.5 years that I simply never needed a good vet. Until I did. At which point it was too late. I've never really forgiven myself. She might have died anyway--could have just been a genetic time bomb waiting to go off--but at least I'd know I took her to a good doctor. Peggy deserved better.

A few years later, we'd mourned enough to let another dog into our lives, and Max introduced us to scores of local dogs and their people. And we began to hear one horror story after another about Riverside Animal Clinic. It has by far the worst reputation of any veterinary establishment in North Manhattan. And yet it apparently continues to flourish--because there are still so many dog people who aren't plugged into the social network of dog runs and offleash hours, and of course cat people don't even have the option of that kind of network, except maybe online. The office is efficiently run, attractively decorated, with an unusually roomy waiting room, and is in an enviable location, surrounded by upscale restaurants and stores. Presentation often trumps professionalism, and that isn't just true of veterinarians. Many great vets have shabby unimpressive offices--because they're spending the limited funds they have on better care, not interior design and nice real estate. I'm sure that as I type this, somebody is enthusiastically recommending Riverside Animal Clinic to a friend with a sick pet. One born every minute, you know.

Mind you, people also complain a lot about vets--even the best ones. There's often a lot to complain about, but I've had my quibbles with the nature of some complaints, which have more to do with the owner's pride than the animal's health--"I had to wait forever to be seen, the doctor wasn't nice to me, the office is dingy, the receptionist is clueless", etc. We forget how much it costs to run an office, how difficult it is to retain a first-rate medical receptionist/secretary/office manager/billing clerk--jobs that are typically done by multiple people in a typical human medical practice--without passing the cost of employing and insuring this paragon on to one's clients. So typically (unless it's an upscale neighborhood), either the office is run in a manner that you'd never accept from your dentist or chiropractor--or the bills make you gasp in horror. And it's not always either/or, is it? I'm not saying that a badly run office means the doctor is great, but a well-run nicely decorated office doesn't prove anything except that they're spending a lot of money on things other than patient care. They're doing that for your benefit, not your pet's. Because you're the one with the credit card. You're the one they're selling to.

Most pet owners have medical insurance of some kind for themselves and their human family members--otherwise they probably couldn't afford a dog, and certainly not vet bills. As a result of this, we tend to forget how much healthcare actually costs--until we take our doggie to the doctor, and hey let's be grateful to our animals for reminding us that if we ever let healthcare be totally privatized we are totally screwed. Pet insurance is, shall we say, a work in progress at this time--I've just taken the plunge myself--the Union Plus Gold Plan (for union members, and I happen to be one)--we'll see how that goes.

Vets do frequently order unnecessary tests, but so do human doctors. Nearly everything wrong with veterinary medicine is also wrong with human medicine--two branches of the same knotty tree. Difference is, you have to pay for 100% of the tests run on your pet, necessary or not (the other difference is that most vets are GP's AND surgeons--specialization is much less advanced, which is simultaneously a good and a bad thing, in my opinion). Many practices are in neighborhoods where income levels vary greatly--in fact, name me a New York City neighborhood where they don't. To help that elderly woman on a fixed income with an ailing Yorkie who is the sole remaining joy in her life, they may sometimes charge on a sliding scale--which is great if you're on the low end of that scale, but the money has to come from somewhere, or the practice closes, and the Yorkie dies.

A vet has to pay for equipment, supplies, office support, vet techs, assistants to watch and care for the animals--and good help is never easy to find, or to keep. Medical labs charge a lot for their testing services, plus there's rent, maintenance, taxes, and of course there would be very few competent vets still in practice if you couldn't make a decent living for yourself and your family (including pets) as well. Our vet bills are big, but not nearly as big as the vet's own bills. Which makes it all the more irritating that so many bad vets are out there, right now, charging ridiculously inflated rates for dangerously poor treatment. With a lot fewer professional and governmental watchdogs (so to speak) keeping tabs on them. Making it that much harder for the good vets to stay afloat.

Big animal hospitals, whether run by a charitable foundation like the AMC, or a consortium of high-powered doctors like NYC Veterinary Specialists (now in the process of changing its name to Blue Pearl Veterinary Partners for some reason), are certainly an option--but your animal will never get the same level of personal day-to-day care from them that he will from a good neighborhood vet. And since you probably won't ever live within walking distance of those big fancy hospitals, if you don't own a car, and your pet is much bigger than a guinea pig, you will pay a fortune in cab fares, because of the mass transit idiocy that says you can't bring a well-behaved friendly dog on a leash onto the subway--and yes, I know I said that already, and I'll say it again--IDIOCY.

The ASPCA or Humane Society hospitals will charge less, and the doctors will be competent (and constantly changing), but I hear some negative stories about them as well, and those hospitals are likewise tricky to get to for us North Manhattan dwellers. We need all the options we can get, and that includes the local practitioner. Who needs to make a living, in order to keep practicing.

But that's no excuse for not doing a good job. That's no excuse for killing somebody's dog, or cat, or ferret, or parrot. That's no excuse for being a quack. And the sad truth is that a lot of veterinarians are quacks. They may sometimes have a degree that isn't worth the paper it's printed on, but even if they have acceptable professional training, some still end up seeing all the dogs and cats and birds they treat as the same species--cash cow. If they went into veterinary medicine with any idealism or compassion at all, it's left them a long time ago, and now they're just in it for the money, and it's easier to make money when you cut corners.

There are millions of pets in New York City, and that means millions of people ready to part with hard-earned cash to keep their cherished companions alive and healthy--sheep waiting to be shorn. A capable honest veterinarian is a pearl beyond price, but a bad one is a living walking insult to all of us, and a threat to our furry friends. It's up to us to shut them down, by refusing to patronize them, and sharing information about them. But for us to do that, we need to learn the difference between a good vet and a bad one. We need to distinguish between a vet who is maybe a little gruff or brusque with us sometimes, or makes us wait a bit too long, or persuades us to pay for a test that may not have been 100% necessary--and a vet who KILLS OUR ANIMALS. Or simply isn't capable and canny enough to know how to treat them, same difference.

The internet may not be your best friend, but it can be a useful adviser--check online review sites like Yelp. Assume that at least some of the negative reviews are written out of pique at some perceived slight, and read between the lines--what are they complaining about? Reading online reviews of our various local vets, I noticed that only in the case of Riverside Animal Clinic were some people saying "They killed my pet." That doesn't prove they actually did, but it's not a good sign, clearly. Neither is somebody saying a vet practice diagnosed his pet with cancer, then it turned out there wasn't any cancer. As somebody says about Riverside Animal Clinic. For example.

Look for people saying that the vet is a good diagnostician, a good listener, takes his or her time examining the animal, doesn't over-vaccinate, over-test, over-treat--but is ready to advocate for a given test/medication/procedure--when it's truly needed. The vet is not there to agree with you--you are there to learn from him or her, even if sometimes you decide, as is your right, that he or she is wrong on a specific point (and that happens, even with the best vets, but odds are they'll be right more often than you).

Most of all, look for people saying "S(he) really cares about the animals." Dog owners usually have pretty good radar for that--we know when people really like our furballs, and when they're just shamming. And honestly, if you don't love animals, if being around them doesn't make you happy, you don't belong in this field. There are other ways to make a buck.

But again, and above all, ASK AROUND. Talk to other dog people, at the run, in the park, on the street. Doesn't matter how well you know them--this is one topic you will never have a hard time getting an opinion on. We will always be ready to listen, to sympathize, and to advise. Because we have all been there. And will be there again.

And for the love of Dog, don't board your pet at the vet--even a good vet--unless said pet needs constant medical attention. While all vets have to have boarding facilities for patients, I personally would mistrust any veterinary practice that runs a pet motel on the side. I mean, how many pediatricians offer 24/7 daycare for toddlers? I believe that would be zero. Kennels are frequently the source of disease outbreaks, and when you board a healthy dog at a veterinary clinic while you go on vacation, you're basically putting him in a kennel where most of the dogs are, by definition, unwell. There are better boarding options available, but that's another article.

So caveat emptor, for sure--but show some appreciation as well for the truly wonderful doctors out there, whose bills are surely not fun to peruse--but would you rather read your dog's obituary in the Times?? If dogs got obits in the Times, that is. That's yet another article.

Fall Clean-up 2011

2011-10-24T13:04:00.026-04:00

Our usual anarchic flair was on display--we all showed up when we could (over forty of us, though not everybody signed in), stayed as long as we could, and did whatever we could--and as always, we got the job done. The Parks Department gave us tons of wood chips to spread, and enough tools and wheelbarrows to do so. We hopefully made some progress with regards to eliminating or at least diminishing the presence of the Dog Stinkhorn in our run--we'll know next spring, I guess. And we had water, plus donuts and coffee, courtesy of our friends at neighborhood pet supply store Furry Rascals, who continue to be a dog run's best friend.

In keeping with our time-honored tradition, we brought the dogs, who in keeping with their time-honored tradition, frolicked and tussled and got in our way, and that's how we like it.

Before---
After!

Don't forget--Clean-up Day, this Saturday--

2011-10-13T13:03:00.015-04:00

According to the Parks website, it's actually from 10:00am to 2:30pm, but nobody should feel like they have to be there four and a half hours. Give as much time as you can spare, and show up whenever it's convenient--what matters is that we get a big turn-out, as we almost always do. One shift leaves, another picks up where they left off. Some work an hour, others work six. If you can't make one clean-up day, you make up for it the next time. And if it rains, we all make up for it. But currently, looks like the weather will be fine.

That's a Google Earth satellite image of our general location, btw--wonder if Google Maps/Google Earth will ever recognize our existence? We're not mentioned as one of the local points of interest. The run can't even be perceived in the satellite photo they have, which was apparently taken quite recently--I zoomed in really close--no dogs, and I thought I could just barely see one human at the edge of the clearing. If I ever find a clear satellite image from the wintertime, I'll post it. I promise not to post any satellite photos that show you picking up dog poop, though. As Jerry Seinfeld once said--

If aliens are watching this through telescopes, they’re going to think the dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them is making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge?

Let's show the aliens who's in charge here, people. See ya Saturday.

The dog who took the train home--by herself.

2011-10-03T16:11:00.008-04:00

In Sweden--where dogs are allowed on trains, but not typically as solo passengers. This particular dog being a four year old black lab named Eira--wonder if she's any relation to Fort Washington Park's Aries (shown above)? He's been known to arrive on the scene as much as ten minutes ahead of his person.

Eira was left at her new day kennel in the southern Stockholm suburb of Hökarängen last Thursday by her owner but struck with home sickness she decided take the matter in her own paws and head out for home.

She evaded her carers and walked the kilometre to the local metro station, ducked the barrier and jumped on a northbound train, according to a report in the Dagens Nyheter daily which has been confirmed both by her owner and the police.

The dog stood patiently among the other morning passengers and waited in the six stops between Hökarängen and her home station of Gullmarsplan - a busy bus, road and metro junction.

But on alighting the train at Gullmarsplan she was met by station staff who took her into their care. The staff report that Eira succumbed to their approach without resistance.

In accordance with routine, the staff called the police and handed Eira over.

"If she hadn't been detained she would probably have been waiting for me by the door," her owner, named only as Caroline, told the newspaper.

The only mishap to befall the capable canine is that she is thought to have caught her paw in the door of the metro train, leaving her needing an ice pack.

What's remarkable about this is that it's not a feral dog, like the ones in Moscow that routinely use the Metro to get from Point A to Point B, who have been observed actually listening to station announcements over the PA system, so that they know what stop to debark at (heh--debark).

No, this was somebody's pampered pet, who obviously had ridden the train with her person on many occasions, was probably taken to the hated kennel by train, and managed to memorize the route. She wasn't trained to do this--she wanted to. She chose to go home by train. She made just one miscalculation, leading to a minor injury. Given a second chance, she probably would have known to stand clear of the closing doors.

In the course of arguing with people about the feasibility of allowing dogs on mass transit here, I frequently meet with the argument that dogs don't even want to go on trains, and it's just a handful of stupid people who want to drag them.

To which I respond--är att så?

(Swedish for "Is that so?")

;)

Rin Tin Tin: The Life and the Legend

2011-09-28T15:21:00.008-04:00

I don't often read a new book the moment it's released, but this was an exception--I pre-ordered it on Amazon. This is to dogs what Lauren Hillebrand's amazing "Seabiscuit: An American Legend" was to horses. And of course, it's more about people obsessed with animals than the animals themselves, because people can talk about themselves, but Susan Orlean has three dogs (in interviews she claims to not think of herself as a dog person--denial, denial, denial) and she understands there had to be something real under all the mythology that surrounds Hollywood's greatest canine movie star.

Because he was a star--for a time, the biggest in Hollywood. He saved Warner Brothers from bankruptcy. Every kid in America dreamed of meeting him, and thousands did. His performances were seriously reviewed in major newspapers. He was the main protagonist of his films, and always the best actor in them--as Orlean points out, in the silent era, dogs didn't suffer any disadvantage by not being able to read and speak dialogue. He wasn't the first or anywhere near the last dog to make it big in movies, not even the first German Shepherd Dog, but he was the one whose name has traveled the furthest, and meant the most. And with that, I'll give you the opening paragraph of this book, and then go back to devouring it the way my Shepherd Mix devours a nice piece of chicken.

He believed the dog was immortal. "There will always be a Rin Tin Tin," Lee Duncan said, time and time again, to neighbors, to family, to friends. At first this must have sounded absurd--just wishful thinking about the creature that had eased his loneliness and made him famous around the world. And yet, just as Lee believed, there has always been a Rin Tin Tin. The second Rin Tin Tin was not the talent his father was, but still, he was Rin Tin Tin, carrying on what the first dog had begun. After Rin Tin Tin Jr., there was Rin Tin Tin III, and then another Rin Tin Tin after him, and then another, and then another: there has always been another. And Rin Tin Tin has always been more than a dog. He was an idea and an ideal--a hero who was also a friend, a fighter who was also a caretaker, a mute genius, a companionable loner. He was one dog and many dogs, a real animal and an invented character, a pet as well an international celebrity. He was born in 1918 and he never died.

Yo, Rinty.

Clean-up Day, Saturday, October 15th, 10:00am to 2:00pm

2011-09-20T19:35:00.003-04:00

The main job we do at our bi-annual clean-ups is to get rid of old wood chips (particularly around the fence, where the dogs relieve themselves most regularly), and replace them with new ones. That's most of the work, but not all of it--we also have a garden to maintain, and that work goes on all the time, not just on Clean-up Day.

With all the rain we got this summer, the garden has never looked better. It occurred to me, after I took these photos--how many other NYC runs have gardens? Some of them happen to be located near decorative plantings that the Parks Dept. is responsible for, but this is our garden--planted by us, maintained by us, with the occasional contribution of bulbs and such from the Parks Dept.

Offhand, I can't think of another run where the regulars garden, as well as exercise their dogs. It's kind of a gift we make to the community--our way of beautifying what was, before the Rocky Run was founded, a pretty dismal little stretch of parkland, littered with refuse and crack vials.

The dogs, of course, aren't really that interested in the garden, though they like to smell the plants sometimes. And to pee on them, which is why it has to be fenced off, but the plants seem to thrive anyway--the wood chips make the soil exceptionally rich, and while it would help if we had running water there, sometimes Mother Nature provides (or in the case of this past August, OVER-provides).

Anyway, let's hope there's no rain on the day itself. Look forward to seeing you there.

Following up on the previous article--

2011-09-07T13:05:00.003-04:00

Jerry Culligan just let me know the tree limb has been removed. The fence took a bit of damage, but nothing too critical.

We should complain--Jay's Run, over in J. Hood Wright Park, is going to be closed for about a year. The park about to undergo major improvements, which include reconstructing the run. That all starts sometime this month. Thankfully, nobody has designs on our little strip of parkland. That we know of. So far. ;)

Branch Closure

2011-09-06T06:27:00.005-04:00

Well, not exactly. The run is still open, but part of it is temporarily closed off because a big overhanging tree limb has snapped, but hasn't actually fallen yet--which it obviously could at any time. They've used yellow police tape to mark off the restricted area, and of course the dogs won't recognize that barrier at all, so if you can't stop your dog from going under the branch in question, you might want to stay away from the run. Hopefully the Parks Dept. will be able to send someone to remove this minor menace soon--I heard it would be this week. I'll report when I know more.

We love our Rocky Run trees for the shade and beauty they afford, and this rarely happens (probably in part because all the wood chips we put down twice a year make great fertilizer, which keeps the surrounding trees exceptionally healthy). But the price we pay is knowing that at some points in time, we're going to have problems like this. Be grateful it's just a branch and not the whole tree.

All clear on the Hudson--relatively speaking, of course.

2011-07-31T16:08:00.002-04:00

The Parks Department has announced that coliform bacteria levels in the river have gone back to normal.

Sorry for not posting this sooner, but in any event it rained heavily on Friday, so Saturday would not have been a good day for dogs to swim. "Normal" coliform bacteria levels in the Hudson River are still nothing to sneeze at, particularly after it rains.

I took Max for a (leashed) walk down there on Friday, and The Parks Department did post warning notices down by the Fort Washington Park Dog Beach (as we shall ever call it), and hopefully they've been updated by now.

There was also some kind of floating barrier over by that little marshland next to the dog beach, perhaps to protect estuarine plant and animal life from nitrogen blooms, but I've no idea. Hopefully they gathered that up, because it looks like a gigantic dog toy.

I also saw a Staten Island Ferryboat out on the river, a bit south of the dog beach. No, I have no idea why it was there. Maybe it always wanted to see the George Washington Bridge. You just never know what's going to come down that river next, but as long as it isn't raw sewage, I guess we shouldn't complain.

Update on the Sewage SNAFU.

2011-07-25T10:14:00.005-04:00

This article provides a lot of useful if not terribly appetizing information.

Bottom line, there may still be a few more leaks over the next few days, as repairs proceed. And for the forseeable future, there will always be a risk of high bacteria levels in the Hudson after a heavy rain.

Dogs are not people. They tend to have a much higher tolerance for bacteria than we do--a legacy of their long ancestry as scavengers. To this day, stray dogs in third world villages all over the globe act as unpaid no-maintenance waste disposal systems, living off our garbage, saving thousands of human lives from disease outbreaks in the process.

So what's potentially dangerous for a human swimmer or kayaker may be perfectly okay for them--but they have their limits, as do all living things. The waters of the Hudson, even by Manhattan, are remarkably clean at times, but we still haven't figured out a way to dispose of our own bodily wastes without fouling the natural world around us. Or rather, we have figured out some ways to do this, but they cost a lot of money we'd rather spend on other things.

In the meantime, dogs do benefit greatly from swimming. The Hudson River is the only place us North Manhattanites can regularly take our dogs to swim. Use your best judgment, and hope for the best. But maybe wait another week or so, and check the NYC Parks Dept. website for advisories such as this. I personally am thinking we'll wait until at least next weekend before we let Max test the waters again.

Everybody out of the Hudson!

2011-07-21T14:18:00.008-04:00

For those who didn't hear, a fire has badly damaged the sewage treatment plant over by Riverbank State Park.

The Fort Washington Park Dog Beach is some blocks upriver of this plant, but the Hudson's currents famously run in both directions at points--it is by no means impossible that some of that untreated sewage could travel a short distance north, and come into contact with your dog--or you. And that could be a good deal more than just unpleasant.

I'd advise waiting for at least a few days--maybe a week--after the media has reported the leakage has been stopped. If your dog has a tendency to plunge into the water without any prompting, take measures to keep that from happening. And as always, avoid letting your dog swim in the river after a heavy rain.

And if you see anybody, human or canine, swimming or wading in the river, please let them know what's going on. Okay, the dog won't know what you're talking about, but let the humans know.

Max was swimming down there just yesterday morning (before the crisis was underway), and I was talking to another dog owner about how clean the river has become in recent years. Tempting fate much? There should never have been a treatment plant there to begin with. When do we learn?

Obedience Classes at Furry Rascals

2011-06-21T13:12:00.006-04:00

For your dog. Just to be clear.

Two Sunday night classes offered this summer--REGISTER AT: www.dotsdogtraining.com or call 646-270-5766.

Dog Scouts I:
Starting June 26, 2011, at 7pm.

This is a 5 week class that meets once a week for dogs 5 months or older. This class is for friendly healthy dogs who have been vaccinated.

Pup Scouts:

Starting August 14th, at 7pm.

This is a 4 week class that meets once a week for puppies between
the ages of 8 - 18 weeks.

All puppies must have 2 rounds of DHP and be healthy.

For more info, see the Furry Rascals Facebook page.

Cleanup #2--mission accomplished

2011-06-12T18:06:00.013-04:00

Maybe 40 people showed up on It's My Park Day, and in spite of the lack of wood chips, a lot of work got done.

At the follow-up event, all that really remained was to spread the chips around--we started slow, with just a handful of people, but as the morning went on (with the occasional smattering of rain, but nothing steady), more and more people showed up, and the final count was around 30 people working for an hour or more (often much more). Given the weather, and the heavily improvised nature of the proceedings (couldn't set a date until the chips arrived), this is nothing short of astounding, but not at the Rocky Run. If dog run clean-ups were organized like Westminster, we'd be the Working Dog Group.

I've put off posting photos long enough--I might tweak this tomorrow if I get the chance, but let me just hit 'send' so you can enjoy the sight of your labors. And of your dogs goofing off while you labor. That's actually more enjoyable, isn't it?

Before--
AFTER!

Clean-up still on, rain or shine.

2011-06-10T18:34:00.003-04:00

It'll probably be a bit of both, and we might not get any rain at all, but Jerry says it shouldn't take long to finish if we get enough people.

Btw, if you notice I'm not shoveling, that's because I made a real genius move at the dog beach earlier this week, and I now have a mild contusion to my right ribcage. No heavy lifting for a week, the doctor says. But to make up for this, I'll get the photos up no later than Sunday (editing this in--they're uploaded, but I might not finish the article until Monday). Guilt--the ultimate motivator.

Follow-up Clean-up, Saturday, June 11th.

2011-06-03T10:52:00.002-04:00

Work should be under way by 10:00am, and presumably continue into the afternoon. As those who were at the original clean-up will know, we didn't get enough wood chips (it happens sometimes), and had to wait until more were dropped off by the Parks Department. Jerry Culligan just let me know we're scheduling the second clean-up for the 11th, so there'll be time for people to find out when it's happening.

So turns out I didn't miss it after all. See you there. ;)

A SEAL's best friend.

2011-05-10T11:36:00.006-04:00

A bit early for Memorial Day, but why not?

Doesn't matter which breed of dog they took into that compound with them. All dogs were there in spirit. As they've been with us for tens of thousands of years now. For any job we ask of them. And all they ask for in return is love, loyalty, and a bit of kibble.

NEVER FORGET.

Don't forget: Clean-up Day, May 21st, 10:00am to 2:00pm.

2011-05-09T21:21:00.003-04:00

Shovel wood chips, push a wheelbarrow, cultivate our garden, schmooze with friends of two species, nosh on snacks and coffee provided for your labors, and there may even be a bit of free swag from the Parks Department. And by all means bring your dogs if you want--just everybody make sure no errant pooch strays out the gate unattended, and watch where you're aiming that pitchfork.

I hate to miss it, but travel beckons--I'll see you at the next one. Have fun.

The Very First Rocky Run Clean-up Day

2011-05-05T15:05:00.014-04:00

Karen and Bailea
The Rocky Run was originally a weedy overgrown piece of gone-to-seed parkland at the end of 165th St.--the domain of various unsavory persons, strewn with crack vials and other assorted drug paraphernalia. It was a bad area for anyone else to hang out in, and particularly children.

Then a group of community-minded dog owners saw the potential in it, and went through the endless lobbying, and organizing, and schmoozing, and community board meetings and fund-raising that are all necessary if you want to start a dog run in this city. But when all that was done, they still had to clear the land of brush and debris before the run could be built. This was the very first Rocky Run clean-up--the one before there was a Rocky Run.

A few clean-ups back, our devoted run manager Bailea loaned me these photos, with the understanding that I'd scan them for the blog. Only I didn't have a scanner, and the various ones I tried at first didn't get the job done, and then I broke my ankle and a lot of other stuff happened, and the photos were in my sock drawer for the better part of a year and a half. We've all been there, right? Finally they installed a new Canon flatbed scanner at my job, and the images still doesn't look as good as I'd like (did my best to crop them)--but good enough, and you can get a closer look by clicking on them. Bailea will be getting her photos back soon.

Some of these faces will be familiar--Norma and Felix, for example, and their wonderful Cheyenne, all of them still regulars. Michael Girault, who still pops by occasionally with his dog Cleo. Bailea is in here as well, of course--she's no longer living in the neighborhood, but we see her twice a year at clean-up, and she's always there behind the scenes.

And then there's Karen Argenti, one of the real movers and shakers behind the founding of the run, here as well (standing next to Bailea in the first photo)--the first time I've had the privilege to showcase her on this blog, since she moved to California long before Washington Tykes went online.

My knowledge about the early days is limited, to say the least. Yolanda and I didn't have Max when all this was happening. We just walked down Riverside one day, and hey--there's a dog run there! When did that happen? How cool! And a short time later, we were offered a chance to adopt a big energetic Shepherd Mix who had lost his first home, and needed an outlet for his energy--and a chance to socialize with his own kind, for the first time since he was a small puppy. And we remembered there was a dog run in our neighborhood now. And we decided to go for it. And we will be in the debt of the people in these photographs for as long as we live. And so will you. But of course, none of it would have happened without the dogs. Who were apparently just as delighted to supervise backbreaking human labor then as they have been at every subsequent clean-up day. Next one is May 21st. The tradition lives on.

Far as I know, the very first clean-up group shot. And here I was thinking I'd invented it. :)

Before--

After!

At long last--last fall's clean-up photos.

2011-05-04T12:30:00.007-04:00

You know what my problem is? I want to write clever captions, and organize everything just so. But the photos speak for themselves. I'll just post them now, and force myself to caption some of them later. If you've been to a clean-up, you'll have no problem figuring out who's who.

It was a good day. Hope we have an even better one on May 21st--even though I won't be there.

Here's Bailea exhorting us to yell "hi" into her cellphone, because Karen Argenti, co-founder of The Rocky Run, is on the other end--in California. HI KAREN!!!

Before--

After!

Spring Clean-Up--Saturday, May 21st, 10:00am to 2:00pm

2011-04-29T15:44:00.004-04:00

And I still haven't posted the photos from the last clean-up--procrastination, thy name is moi. :(

If anybody gets a chance to snap a few digital images of clean-up next month, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd send them to me. I won't make this one--I think this is the first clean-up I've ever missed since we got Max, almost four and a half years ago.

Our clean-up really has been remarkable in terms of turn-out and participation--I'm not sure any other dog run in the city gets as many people showing up to work at maintaining it. And we're not what you'd call centrally located.

I'll post the Fall Clean-up photos shortly--yeah, promises, promises--and I've got another surprise, courtesy of Bailea--photos of what you might consider the very first Rocky Run clean-up--like before there was a Rocky Run. Stay tuned.

Merry Christmas from Washington Tykes (and update on the food drive)

2010-12-25T13:43:00.004-05:00

Christmas can be a hard time for dogs and cats--while some are being given as ill-considered holiday presents (a puppy or kitten can be a wonderful gift in someone's life, but should never be a last-minute surprise for someone who just isn't ready for the responsibility), others are being abandoned or taken to shelters because their people can't afford to keep them anymore. Shelters do all they can, but it's just hard for them to find enough space, budget, personnel, equipment--or food. Most of all food.

Learning that Sir William's Run in Ft. Tryon Park was doing a shelter food drive, our own Michel Pyles asked "Why not us too?" And she set about answering that question. It was put together very quickly, and I've heard a number of regulars lamenting that they missed it--well, fret not--it was such a success that there's no question we'll be doing it again. You'll have your chance, and next time we'll provide more advance notice.

In the course of four hours, roughly two hundred cans of food (for cats and dogs, but mainly dogs, of course) were collected. Every time we thought we'd had our last donation, somebody else would show up, staggering under the weight of his or her own generosity. It turns out Animal Haven will accept any brand, and quite a lot of the donated food was very high premium stuff, like Innova Evo, Merrick, etc. But we also got the shelter-preferred Purina and Iams (preferred in part because it's cheaper and you can buy more of it, but shelter dogs deserve to live it up a bit too, don't you think?).

We also got some dry food, toys, and other assorted equipment. Probably our single biggest donation was from Furry Rascals, our great local pet supply store--Zev, the proprietor, arranged for a great quantity of food to be delivered to the run as a personal contribution. No question, Furry Rascals coming to our neighborhood has been one of the things we've been most thankful for this past year, and we sure hope they'll be around for many years to come.

Caroline Sickinger and Jerry Culligan headed off shortly after 2:00pm to personally deliver the supplies to Animal Haven, down on Centre Street, where it was gratefully accepted. And of course it takes a lot more than a Toyota Corolla full of food to meet their weekly needs, but the more such donations they receive, the more stress is taken off their perpetually strained budget--and the more wonderful dogs and cats get a second chance to find a good home.

So anyway, here's a few photos from the day, I WILL get the clean-up photos posted soon, and a very Happy Holiday to all.

Jack obviously thinks he should be getting some of this food, but c'mon, Jack--you're hardly one of the less fortunate. Like most Rocky Run dogs, you're about as fortunate as they come.

Shelter Food Drive at the Run, Obedience Classes at Furry Rascals.

2010-12-17T14:51:00.005-05:00

Sorry I haven't posted any photos from clean-up--I have them uploaded, and have been procrastinating about getting them organized and captioned.

Anyway, two quick newsbites (heh).

1)Michel Pyles (Jack's person) is going to be at the run tomorrow, between 10:00am and 2:00pm, accepting food donations for Animal Haven. Cans of Purina Pro Plan or Iams are what the shelter is asking for. These can be purchased at most pet supply stores, including Furry Rascals, at 3915 Broadway, between 163rd & 164th.

2)That very same Furry Rascals is offering FREE Positive Dog Training & Behavior Workshops. See below--(click on flyers to enlarge)

Gearing up for Clean-Up--this Saturday

2010-10-19T20:56:00.004-04:00

Bailea has already paid us a visit, and put up her inimitable handmade signs. The Parks Department has paid us a visit, and dumped some wood chips (we need them to come by with lots more). And Jerry has been busy with the paving stones donated to the run. Plenty more work to be done on Saturday, and I see the ending time has been changed to 2:30pm--so if you're running a bit late that morning, you can still make it. You'll make just as much money as the people who showed up early. It's like the parable of the vineyard workers. Except nobody gets paid at all. :)

I'm guessing the ground was a bit soft the day the Parks Department workers showed up with the wood chips--oh well, we'll have tools to fix this on Saturday--we better.

I'm assuming the steamrollers aren't for us, but they'd sure come in handy, wouldn't they? Probably want to clear the dogs out of the run before using them. But since they're not for our use, dogs are welcome, as always. And will be entertaining pests, as always. But they'd probably say the same about us.

Fall Clean-Up Day--October 23rd, 10:00am to 2:00pm

2010-10-14T14:56:00.002-04:00

Our run manager Bailea called yesterday, to say she'd just gotten word that's the date. She'll have signs up at the run presently. And I'll post a follow-up article soon (and photos from clean-up once we're done).

And yes, those paving stones piled up by the run fence are for walkways--no more wood chips between the inner and outer gates. Should be a fun job.

Now where are our wood chips?

The Landing of The 'Assembly Required'

2010-08-06T15:20:00.014-04:00

We had gotten down to the park later than usual (I have the day off), and were heading for the dog beach, so Max could do a bit of swimming. As we approached I caught sight of a vessel of some type coming around the bend, and clearly planning to land.

Run! It's The Vikings!

Eh, maybe a little skinny for Vikings. Plus I don't remember any wind turbines in the Kirk Douglas movie. Plus I don't think they flew under the Stars & Stripes. But that could be a Viking trick!

Oh well, they seem friendly enough.

"Hi. Remember me? I'm Max. Your dog. Let the nice men land their funny looking boat and throw me some balls."

And so history was made.

And so dog history was made.

"Congratulations. Welcome to Washington Heights. Now throw me a ball."

Dallas and Rob were still there when we left, but planned to head over to Hazzard's Launch Ramp, over on the other side of the river, just north of the bridge. Since the Assembly Required got here mainly on the currents, they need to get picked up. Hope everything's copacetic, guys. Kudos on the raft. She's yar.

It's rare that I blog about something right after it happens, as my necessarily patient readers know all too well, but I figured I'd make an exception for such a momentous occasion. I'll get back to dog blogging soon.

(editing this in later) Well, look who scooped the Times.

Okay, their account is a little more detailed--though completely fails to mention Max being the first (perhaps only) dog to swim across the Assembly Required's bow (I think that was the bow, anyway), and we all know you haven't been formally welcomed to our city if you haven't been welcomed by a dog.

Anyway, the Times blogger was absolutely not there to interview them when they landed--I didn't see anyone else with a camera, either. Not sure where that other landing photo came from. I suspect a staged photo op. Like Iwo Jima. And Apollo 11. ;)

A Glorious Fourth at the Fort Washington Dog Beach

2010-07-04T21:08:00.018-04:00

All photos taken today--some, as you can see, from a different-than-usual perspective--I waded out a ways into the water. I wasn't the only biped out there with the dogged paddlers on this blazing hot July 4th. Is it just me, or does Max look a bit befuddled that I'm further away from shore than him?

"Beam me up, Scotty!" Hey, the freedom to make bad puns is enshrined in our Constitution, I'll have you know!

Cheyenne arrived a bit late, but still found a swimming buddy.

These jetskiers showed up after most of the dogs had departed, but there were still people in the water--and they were a bit close for comfort. It's a big river, and we can respect everyone's space, can't we?

You just never know what's going to come floating down Mother Hudson.

A shady walk down the beautiful hidden path by the ballfield (still there, in spite of continuing Parks Dept. ambitions to pave it over) has its own charms.
And I conclude with this image, taken on the way to the park this morning. Why? Because cats are Americans too, by gum! E. Pluri-puss Unum!

Found this posted at the run today.

2010-07-03T20:09:00.002-04:00

You can read more about it here.

A nice way to finish off a Saturday morning with your dog--best to make sure he or she gets plenty of exercise first, and you want want to bring a (non-squeaky) toy to keep him or her occupied.

Bear in mind, while some concerts may be dog-friendly, not all dogs are concert-friendly. Of course, neither are most small children, and you can take them to Carnegie Hall.
;)

Training Event at Furry Rascals this Saturday, 7pm.

2010-06-08T15:54:00.003-04:00

For more details, check the article further down the page.

"The Dog Song"

2010-05-24T14:45:00.006-04:00

I was humming this Nellie McKay song rather wistfully during my long convalescence, but now that I can actually walk Max again, it's taken on a much happier note.

The person who worked up this YouTube photo montage (complete with lyrics) to go with Ms. McKay's vocal stylings perhaps could have included just a few non-tiny dogs in there, but that's quibbling. Now let's see if this video embedding thingy works--

Good song!

Puppy Obedience Classes at a local pet supply store--about time!

2010-05-21T10:38:00.011-04:00

(click to enlarge)

Got this flyer from Christine Corda of Furry Rascals at clean-up last Saturday, and finally got it scanned. I could have just posted the information in text form, of course. But I wanted to show the actual flyer, just to prove this is really happening--it's hard to believe, isn't it? A dog training class you and your dog can walk to--in our neighborhood, just a leisurely five minute walk from the Rocky Run. It's been a long time coming.

When we got Max (hard as this may be for people who know him to believe), he had a few problems that needed to get ironed out--and so did we. We'd both had dogs before, but Max came to us fully mature, and had been through a series of traumatic events that had thrown him for a loop. He'd also never had any real training before--not even 'sit'--he wasn't fully housebroken when we got him (long story). He wanted to learn, and he learned very fast, as dogs with Shepherd ancestry usually do--but we didn't know how to teach him. We kept mixing up our signals, and he was getting confused, and frustrated. So were we.

We looked all over for obedience classes in the area, and they were all too far away to be practical. We finally got a reference from our vet for a trainer who made house calls. He really helped us figure Max out, but scheduling was a pain, and of course it cost a bundle--but it was worth it. Max met us more than halfway, and we're justly proud of his behavior. But he's not perfect, of course, and no dog ever is, and no dog owner ever is, and nobody should ever expect perfection. Always room for improvement, though.

As I understand it, these are classes for younger dogs--I don't know if there's a formal age limit. But if there's a big enough response, maybe classes will be added.

In any event, we owe Furry Rascals a big vote of thanks for doing this. For those who don't know, it just opened its doors a short while ago, and is the very best kind of pet supply store--the kind that never sells animals, and goes the extra mile to provide high quality food and equipment at a fair market price--and with a friendly helpful attitude to boot. It's a sister store of Spoiled Brats over 4 Bennett Ave (by 181st St.), which has been the best pet supply store in North Manhattan for some time now. Whether you and your dog need schooling or not, you should check them both out. But if you do need some schooling, better get on the phone now. Never too early to start planning your new puppy's education. Trust me, he's already working on yours. ;)

Spring Clean-up Day 2010: When the weather was almost too good.

2010-05-17T16:30:00.013-04:00

As New Yorkers, we are obliged by ancient and immutable tradition to find something to complain about, but it would tax even our famed griping abilities to fault the weather last Saturday. Balmy and sundrenched, with a refreshing breeze; not a drop of rain, and the pollen count had thankfully dropped down to a breathable level. Bits of cottonwood fluff floated through the air, lending a dreamlike quality to the scene.

It was, in fact, so beautiful a day, I have a sneaking suspicion it seduced some of our regulars away from clean-up duty--we've had bigger turn-outs when the weather was much worse. But still more than respectable--38 names on our sign-up sheet, and probably a few forgot to sign, so I'd guess the real tally would be over 40. That would be a big number for any other run in the city, but it's not a record for us.

If I were to complain about anything, it would be that our beloved run manager Bailea was unable to attend the proceedings this year, due to other obligations. She was still involved in the planning, and the big orange sign is her handiwork, I believe. Below, you can see Jerry Culligan talking to her--she called in to make sure everything was going okay.

We got all the tools and wheelbarrows we needed from the parks department this year--maybe a little later in the morning than we might have wished, but soon enough to equip most of our volunteers by the time they arrived. The wood chips were definitely much improved in quality from our last clean-up--still a lot coarser than ideal for dog paws--and full of odd bits of trash, glass, and assorted debris--I'm still waiting for our first human body part. But they were of a significantly better grade, and we had all we needed. We understand city budgets are exceptionally tight now, and the chips are provided free of charge--but fallen tree branches to toss in the chipper are not in short supply with the winds we've been getting, and grinding the chips a bit finer wouldn't seem beyond a great city's resources, even in tough times.

Aside from a bit of free swag from the Parks Department, we also got a nice extra surprise--doggy gift bags from our fantastic new local pet supply store, FURRY RASCALS, just a few blocks away, at 3915 Broadway, between 163rd & 164th Streets. Here's Christine Corda from the store--she'd like everyone to know Furry Rascals is going to be hosting puppy obedience classes soon--more on that later this week.

Pit & pitchfork.

"Hey, where are our refreshments?"

Rufus.

Bruce, Sunbear, & Co. cavort, in the grand old Rocky Run Clean-up Day tradition--humans work, dogs shirk.

A bit over halfway through clean-up, I asked Norma to call everyone together for a group shot--this is not all of the people who came, regrettably, since our volunteers come in waves, and many understandably can't stay for the whole four hours. Anyway, the workers present obligingly posed on a convenient mound of wood chips, the sun obligingly beamed down through the trees, and the dogs not quite so obligingly roamed in and out of the frame. I meant to use just one of the group photos I took, but I couldn't decide, so enjoy them all.

Officers Lamour & Simms of the NYPD dropped by to say hello--they've been our local patrol people for some time now, and love having the Rocky Run on their beat.

The Parks Department delivered, as promised, a new bench for the run--that's our good friend Danny Mercado on the left.

Andy suggested the northwest corner of the run as the ideal spot for the bench--it's the only consistently sunny area once our shade trees have leafed out. Cheyenne, the Rocky Run's #1 Benchwarmer, wasted no time in staking her claim.

I took this photo the following day--the new sundeck is already a hit.

Before.
After!

Norma, Yolanda, and two other volunteers did about three hours of work on the run garden the next day, which is when I took the 'after' photos, as well as the above one. The weather was still great. Is there some way we can reserve this weather in advance for next fall? I'll look into it--see you then (I'll try not to break any more bones in the interim).

PS: Reportedly, NYC Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe made a brief surprise visit to the run, presumably making the rounds of various It's My Park Day sites. I never saw him, nobody told me he was there until later, and I didn't get any pictures. But he was reportedly there, and reportedly impressed. And if he shows up for the next clean-up, would somebody please tell me? :)

Spring Clean-up Day--May 15th, 10:00am to 2:00pm

2010-05-09T17:18:00.004-04:00

(click to enlarge)

As you can see, all is in readiness--we shall hope that the Parks Department will have our tools there at the appointed time.

Bit later in the week, I'm finally going to get around to posting photos from our last clean-up (a worthy project sidelined by a broken ankle), so stay tuned.

As always, feel free to bring your dogs--it's not required, but they're always welcome. They can be both inspiration and distraction at the same time. It's their gift.

Catching up on the close-ups

2010-04-19T20:44:00.010-04:00

C-Lo, down in the park.

Gordo--one impressive English Bulldog.
Dominique seems impressed.

Jack impresses less easily.

Francesca (just call her Franny).

Bernie is a newcomer to the run--always room for another Boxer.

The Mysterious Sunbear (they say he's part coyote!).

Tyson--great dog, and his owner is nice, but you look at the way the ears are cut, and you figure somebody once had the idea he'd be a fighter. Bad idea.

Sunbear and Tyson, working out their status issues non-violently--good idea!

Chili--so called because his family found him in Mexico, while on a trip, and took him back across the border with them--don't tell Lou Dobbs!

Chili and Chuckie.

Didn't catch the name, but the camera LOVES him (editing this in--sorry, HER--see below).

Lexington--Lex for short. Which he isn't, being a Great Dane/Lab mix.

Max and Falcon--two minds with but a single thought--"Ball! Ball! Ball!".

The one and only Mister Johnny Cash. Actually, I believe there was another one, but he was much more lowkey.

The black beauty with the permanent grin is Rose--Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and like most 'Staffies' (including Brindle, who has made many an appearance on this blog), she's a mite challenging to photograph--this group shot captures her essence fairly well.

I believe this is Cherie--Cheri?--Sherry? How do you spell that, kid? Oh never mind.

Sophie and Leo.

Obi--took this one down in the park in December--before The Fall.

Just one of the many expressions of Max.

(some photos by Yolanda Garcia)

My best-ever excuse for not updating the blog.

2010-04-06T14:51:00.010-04:00

On the morning of the very last day of 2009, I woke up to find it had snowed, and was easily able to persuade Yolanda that we should take Max to the park (Max, of course, never needs any persuading in this direction).

It was a lovely morning, and we were having a wonderful time. I will always remember that.

We could have turned back, but I figured we'd press onwards towards the bridge. Although the morning was well advanced and the snow had tapered off well before, the paved path had still not been plowed. As many of you will know from personal experience, there were patches of very smooth ice concealed underneath the snow. My experience got a little too personal.

And here I am, lying in the snow by the path, having slipped on one of those hidden icy patches, breaking two bones in my right ankle in the process. I was walking slowly, wearing good boots, and Max was not pulling me--people were falling like ninepins this winter on that path, as I later learned. I knew the moment I tried to get up that I wasn't going anywhere. I called 911 immediately--and repeatedly--did you know sometimes you get New Jersey 911 when you use a cellphone and are lying a few feet from the banks of the Hudson River in Manhattan? Well, you do now.

It took about 40 minutes for the EMT guys to find a parks worker to let them past the locked gate (which they hadn't been given a key for) and for him to plow the road up to where I was, so the ambulance could reach me (I hope at least this led to them getting the right key for the 155th St. gate, since I have heard of subsequent injuries in the park since then). Anyway, I had company while I waited.

And here the medical consultation firm of Max, Chuckie, & Max confer gravely over my case. Jerry Culligan's Max, to be specific, and it was Jerry who saw me safely home from the ER, after waiting around for hours, while I was x-rayed and fitted for a cast. When you're an NYC dog person, and you get hurt, it's nice to know the pack has your back.

There'd be some nice dramatic shots of me being loaded into the ambulance (Max was all for going with me to the hospital, and took some dissuading), but wouldn't ya know, the camera battery gave out a few minutes after my ankle did.

It was a truly beautiful morning. It was also the last time I went out with my dog for almost three months. I'm walking again now (a little better, day by day), after having surgery at our great neighborhood hospital, Columbia Presbyterian, which thankfully has one of the best orthopedic surgery departments in the country.

I was very limited in my online time for quite a while after having surgery, and my usual penchant for procrastination took care of the rest. But I'm back. And I've taken some good photos recently. And I will post them. And the moral is not "Don't go out in the snow with your dog"--it's more like next winter, when there's snow on the road, WALK ON THE GRASS.

Farewell to a longtime neighborhood vet.

2009-11-23T11:40:00.004-05:00

Got this email the other day:

Dr. Stanley Weissman of the Washington Heights Animal Hospital Has passed away.

Dr. Weissman was born on October 15, 1931 and passed away on Tuesday, November 10, 2009.

Dr. Weissman was last known to be living in Eastchester, New York.

He served the in the US Army in the Vet Corp.

He is survived by his wife Lila.

Service and burial in Bennington, Vermont. A Memorial Service will be held Sunday Nov. 29, 2009 at 1:00pm at the 92nd Street Y, 1395 Lexington Ave., NY, NY.

The family would appreciate donations, if you wish, to the Cornell School of Veterinary Medicine in Ithaca, NY, The Sierra Club, 85 2nd Avenue, Second Floor, San Francisco, CA 94109 or The Israel Congregation of Manchester, P.O. Box 1050 Manchester Center, Vermont 05255.

I never got to meet Dr. Weissman, but Yolanda has mentioned him many times--he was the vet her family took both of their dogs (Bruce and Brucetta), from 1964 to 1985. We know people who have taken pets to him quite recently. He could have retired years ago, but just kept right on serving the community.

Those who would like to read more, and perhaps leave an online tribute to Dr. Weissman, can do so here.

Photos upcoming--been getting over the flu and its aftermath.

Pretty busy for a canceled clean-up

2009-10-24T13:33:00.002-04:00

We had almost 20 people show up today (and quite a few dogs), in spite of notices posted at the run and this blog, saying that it was going to be next Saturday. And in spite of the weather. Some people just didn't get the word. Some people are just gluttons for punishment, I guess. Or conscientious. Or nuts. All these terms can apply equally well to your average dog owner.

But in any event, the parks department had already left the equipment, the rain didn't get consistently heavy for a few hours, and we got quite a bit of work done.

But to be clear, we're NOT finished. Lots of work left for those who didn't come. We are still on for next Saturday, 10am to 2pm. And right now, the long range weather report calls for showers that day. ::sigh::

Well, no way at all of knowing what the weather will actually be a week from now, and take it from me--a little rain actually isn't a bad thing when you're doing manual labor. Cools you off. So see you in a week, and we'll finish this thing up, Rocky Run style.

PS: Sorry, no pictures from today--didn't bring the camera. But I really am going to get some fresh pics up soon. Yeah, I have said that before, haven't I?

NOW HEAR THIS--Fall Clean-up POSTPONED to NEXT SATURDAY, October 31st!

2009-10-23T13:56:00.002-04:00

Halloween, in fact.

Just can't risk getting rained out, and right now it looks like that's exactly what would happen if we went ahead with the original date. So Jerry Culligan has arranged with our good friend Danny Mercado of the Parks Department to get us the needed equipment a week later, so we can do the job right. Same time frame, 10am to 2pm. The only thing that's changed is the date.

Get the word out as much as you can. Far as I know, this is the first time we've ever had to postpone a clean-up. A little bad weather has never stopped us in the past, but this looks like more than a little coming up for tomorrow. Get the dogs some exercise while you can this evening, then batten down the hatches. We'll see you a week from tomorrow.

Keeping an eye on the weather.

2009-10-23T09:13:00.004-04:00

As of right now, Clean-Up is still on for tomorrow. But that could change (as could the weather reports). If there's any rescheduling, I will immediately post an update here. Which means if there's no update, there's no rescheduling, and we'll just make the best of it. Sometimes the threatened torrential downpour turns out to be a bit of drizzle. We'll see.

Fall Clean-Up Day--Saturday, October 24th, 10am to 2pm.

2009-10-04T23:41:00.006-04:00

The sign says it all. We've got a good thing going here, and we all know it. Most of us (myself included) had nothing to do with making it happen, but we're the ones entrusted with keeping it alive, and passing it on to future generations of marvelous manic mutts, looking for a good offleash time after 9am. Our run founders (including our still-acting manager Bailea) took a garbage-strewn strip of parkland nobody wanted, and turned it into the community asset it is now. And trust me, that was a lot harder than spending an hour or two shoveling wood chips, and planting flowers. And they didn't get free donuts either, I bet.

The summer took its toll, and the run is a mess. We need those fresh chips, and the more workers we have to spread them, the sooner we can relax and enjoy what will hopefully be a lovely day. Dogs welcome, as always. To fool around while we work, as always. But if we didn't like that, what would we be doing at a dog run in the first place? I mean aside from those of you who spend all your time texting. You know who you are. Put down the BlackBerry, and pick up a rake. I dares ya.

WATCH THIS SPACE.

2009-09-08T21:09:00.002-04:00

I know checking the blog has been a bit of a yawn lately. I've got some updates coming this week, and more the next. It may have been boring in here, but things were hopping out there.

(photograph by Yolanda Garcia)

Gentle when stroked. Fun when provoked.

2009-08-03T15:00:00.002-04:00

Merlin and Tristan are Irish Wolfhounds. Like it wasn't obvious. By no means at the extreme size range of their breed. They show up at the Fort Washington Dog Beach pretty regularly, though they aren't usually big swimmers, which is why this article isn't entitled "Gentle when stroked. Fierce when they're soaked", which would be much funnier, but you work with the material you're given. They basically just wade in the river--of course, they can wade further out than some dogs can swim.

For those who have met Max, or some other 60+lb Shepherd Mix of comparable body shape, this should give you a rough idea of size.For us, it merely provokes a chuckle at the thought of all the livery cab drivers around here who come to pick us up (after the cab dispatcher tells them it's just a little dog), then freak out when they see Max. And then comes the perverse desire to spring Merlin and Tristan on one of these cabbies sometime, just to see the look in his eyes before he hits the gas pedal.

I'm not sure whether this is Merlin or Tristan, but the cab driver would be burning rubber either way.

Cowboy, an Australian Cattle Dog mix, of whom more shall be told presently.

Frieda, a retriever mix. And a sweetheart, I might add.

Max, a very impatient Shepherd Mix, who wants me to stop photographing the damn Wolfhounds, and throw some balls in the river for him to fetch.

That's more like it.

Cowboy stole Max's ball a few times, but his heart wasn't really in it. His herding heritage was telling him to chase some huge unruly beasts around a grassy field.

Well, speak of the devil!

Cowboy, you do get these aren't actually cows, right? And you're not in Australia. So take it easy on the outback, if you get my drift.

Fortunately for Cowboy, Irish Wolfhounds are not easily provoked. Which is more than you can say for the Irish themselves at times, but that's another story entirely.

(Some photos taken by Yolanda Garcia)

Take Me to the River!

2009-07-28T15:30:00.003-04:00

(all photos enlargeable)

That's the name of a current city government project related to our neighborhood. But our dogs have been getting us to do that very thing, years before the city project was imagined. Ahead of the curve, as always.

These photos were all taken this past Saturday, at the Fort Washington Park Dog Beach. Which you can call a kayak beach if you like, though nary a kayak was seen landing, and many a dog was seen swimming--and not only dogs, by any means.

Now what kind of dog is that?

Turns out it's a Russian Bear--ex military--not impressed by our puny American pollution. Hey tovarisch, would you mind getting that ball?

Bol'shoe spasibo!

"Everybody wants to get into the act!"

Jetskiers are something to watch out for, though they usually don't come around in the morning--this one was definitely well within the maximum swimming range of the dogs and humans there that day, and even though swimming had mainly stopped by the time he and another jetskier came by, there was absolutely no reason to come in so close. I don't like condemning anyone's favorite pasttime, but in all too many ways, social, cultural, environmental, jetskis are just bad news, and plenty of recreational boaters think so as well. But what ya gonna do? Probably not from the neighborhood--hopefully he'd look for floating heads in the water. There are also mallard ducks with babies who swim close to shore. C'mon, it's a big river, don't hog it.

Our dear friend Bailey.

Not happy to be on the leash, but he's given Mary good reasons--just not processing the fact that he's a Miniature Pinscher.

The early crowd begins to head off, but then Chai shows up with Marley, the swimmingest GSD around. We'll stay a while longer--Max is in no hurry to leave, and we'll have only a few more chances to hang with these two before they head off to Israel for an extended stay. Marley's first time there--his new dog beach will be on the Sea of Galilee. The irony is totally lost on him, and that's as should be.

A ball? You can do better than that, Chai.

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!

He doesn't speak softly, but...

Frida--some kind of spaniel mix? In any event, a water dog par excellence--and a fearless competitor.

Rocky--six months old, not quite ready for long distance swimming, but he did a bit of paddling, and a lot of romping.

Marley, you dog. (click to enlarge)

Friday morning at the run.

2009-07-27T15:05:00.003-04:00

Since I had last Friday off from work, Max and I paid a rare later-morning weekday visit, arriving a bit after 9:00am--surprisingly busy.

The young man in the picture just above, sitting with Cheyenne, brought his family's dog Rosie, seen in the three pictures below. Rosie is believed by her family to be at least 18 years old--probably older. Although they adopted her, and her origins are necessarily a bit murky, they believe she's a Eurasier--a recently created breed, blending the Asian Chow Chow and European Keeshond. She's quite unique, in any event.

"Hey, I'm a Chow Mix too--what's the big deal about Rosie?"

But Cheyenne, everybody always makes a big deal about you. If they don't, you bark at them until they do. And quite right!

Tomorrow I'll post some Saturday morning pics from the dog beach.

Rabid Raccoon found at Inwood Park this month.

2009-07-21T13:50:00.012-04:00

You can read the story here, but to sum up, it's extremely rare for animals infected with rabies to be found on Manhattan Island, which is why this case is getting a little more attention. Many more cases have been reported for The Bronx, and presumably this unfortunate raccoon made its way across the narrow stretch of water separating North Manhattan from the mainland.

Raccoons are not rare at all in North Manhattan, of course. I've seen them cavorting happily in Central Park in broad daylight. Seeing them during the daytime does NOT mean they are sick, though sightings are far more common after dark. They are primarily nocturnal, but not exclusively so, and the same is true of the Striped Skunk, another potential rabies carrier, which is also a common resident of Manhattan parks--our friend Smarties, frequently featured on this blog, got seriously sprayed by a skunk in Fort Tryon Park very recently. This was a most unhappy occasion for both Smarties and her person Caroline (who hastily prepared and repeatedly applied this home remedy. But the critter in question was clearly in the pink of health, and exhibiting the normal expected behavior patterns associated with a skunk feeling pissed off at a dog trying to chase it like it was some kind of funny-looking cat. The nerve of those mutts.

Closer to home, I've twice spotted raccoons in Trinity Cemetery over the past few years--the heavily wooded section on the west side of Broadway, between 155th and 153rd Streets. On both occasions, the raccoon was visible from Broadway, but perched up high on rock outcroppings above the cemetery wall--well out of the reach of passing dogs. Good thing too--the first time Max saw one, he acted like he wanted to go up there and have it out.

No question there are raccoons and skunks all around us, and we just don't see them most of the time. That's very much by their choice, though it's partly because city folks mainly don't pay much notice to the natural world around them--Gotham has a much richer selection of wild fauna than most people realize.

However, if there was a major rabies epidemic in process, we'd be hearing about more than one infected raccoon. There's no reason to panic. Just make sure your dog is properly vaccinated. As the article linked above mentions, canine rabies has been eradicated from North America. But an unvaccinated dog or cat can still die from any other strain transmitted by any other mammal. And so can you, for that matter. But you've got a much better chance of getting struck by lightning.

Feral or free-roaming pet cats are actually one of the most dangerous rabies carriers in North America, transmitting the virus to humans in a growing number of cases--and regrettably, there are few communities that mandate licensing and vaccination for cats, as they do for dogs.

But raccoons and skunks, being far less agile than cats, present a particular danger to your dog, because he's got a much better chance of catching one. Peggy, our last dog, got into several confrontations with individuals of both species, but none of them were rabid, and nobody got hurt. She also was bitten on the posterior by a large dog-like creature in Van Cortlandt Park, most likely a wandering coyote (and the bite was definitely provoked). She got a rabies booster immediately afterwards, just in case. The only real injury was to her pride. But as I mentioned in the article just below this one, extra vaccinations are something to avoid whenever possible.

Wild animals are good at avoiding dogs, and even dogs with a strong prey drive usually know better than to come to grips with a large animal unaided. But the risk is always there, and not necessarily just in the depths of a large wooded park. Don't panic, but be aware of the potential dangers, and prepare yourself mentally for a potential confrontation. And if you think you've seen a rabid animal in Manhattan (or anywhere else), get in touch with the proper authorities at once.

But that being said, no dog has contracted rabies of any kind in New York City in a very very long time. If you've been making sure your dog is properly vaccinated, this is not a serious threat. But that doesn't mean your dog can't get bitten or scratched by an animal it chases after, which is quite bad enough. And from what I've heard about Smarties' recent run-in with that aforementioned skunk, there are fates worse than death.

Your dog knows far more than you about what animals live in the parks you walk through together. Try to remedy that situation to the best of your ability. We can all share this island and its few green spots quite happily, with a bit of care.

Health Scare Reform.

2009-07-08T15:34:00.021-04:00

(Leptospirosis in kidney)

Having a dog means worrying about his or her health--the chicken bone or some other unmentionable substance he gobbled before you could stop him, the fetid puddle she lapped unconcernedly from, the constant intimate contact with the bodily orifices of strange dogs. Their constitutions are an enduring wonderment--so much more robust than ours in many respects, yet far more fragile in others. And all the more mysterious because they never talk about their health (as we do, incessantly).

At least children above a certain age will tell you in words if they feel sick, but even if dogs could talk, they might not tell you about their aches and pains, because as pack animals, their social status depends partly on their physical vigor. They sometimes learn to feign injury or sickness in order to win sympathy, but they are just as likely to try and conceal genuine illness, out of fear of being left behind. You have to learn to recognize the signs that something's amiss with your canine chums, and the sooner the better, for both them and your bank balance.

We are repeatedly faced with a two-pronged fear--the first being "What if I lose my dog before he's had his proper mortal span?"--the second being "If he gets really sick, can I afford the medical bills?" Actually, pretty much the same fears we face with ourselves and our human family members, only without even the most rudimentary forms of socialized medicine to fall back on--we can buy pet insurance, but it's still a pretty slender reed to cling to. As veterinary techniques grow ever more sophisticated, the bills grow correspondingly ever more imposing. And our choices grow more difficult. It's easy to let fear take over--don't let your dog play with other dogs, don't let him offleash, don't take him to dog runs, etc. Instead of actively seeking better health for our dogs, we shy away from dimly perceived threats. Then get on the trains and buses and take our chances with the swine flu.

And sometimes we over-vaccinate, something I increasingly suspect I did with my last dog Peggy, who was indestructibly healthy up until the age of 10, then passed very quickly of an internal growth that burst a major blood vessel. Because I paid for every shot any vet ever suggested, most of which she probably never needed at all? I don't know. Maybe it was just her time to go. Not sorry I vaccinated her for rabies/parvo/distemper, but I sure wish I'd passed on most of the rest.

The New York Daily News just published this article about some recently reported local cases of Leptospirosis --a few dogs have gotten sick, two in Brooklyn have died. It's a serious matter, though nothing new, and affecting a tiny percentage of dogs. Authorities aren't even calling it an outbreak--it's just more cases than usual for our area, largely due to the excessive rainfall we've had this year. And there's another culprit being fingered--fenced dog runs (or dog parks, as they are increasingly being called).

Vets are a bit wary of dog runs--not without reason. They are, after all, places where large numbers of dogs pee and poop constantly, and like any schoolyard or playground, are an obvious suspect when a new strain of something nasty is making the rounds.

But not all runs are the same. Some have excellent drainage, some do not. Some are visited regularly by mice and rats, others are not. Some are kept scrupulously clean, others (regrettably) are not.

The Rocky Run has excellent drainage, not much of a rodent problem, and is mainly kept very clean. And far as anybody I've talked to knows, none of our regulars have come down with leptospirosis (and I'd really like to know as soon as possible if any of them do).

If your dog gets leptospirosis, it's going to be very cold comfort that most dogs in the area are unaffected--same as you'd feel if you actually became deathly ill with Swine Flu or West Nile Encephilitis, though most people never will. What can you do to prevent your dog from becoming one of the few unlucky pooches?

1)Learn the symptoms (see above links) and watch for them. Early diagnosis and treatment can minimize the danger considerably. Of course, there are other less serious problems that can lead to some of the same symptoms. Don't panic every time your dog throws up. But take note of it when he does.

2)TRY to keep your dog from lapping at puddles, particularly when they aren't fresh. Yeah, no small feat, even if your dog is on a leash 24/7. Puddles are everywhere lately. Bring water with you to the run, and be sure to rinse out the bowl before filling it. Fill in any holes the dogs dig immediately--without holes, there will be no puddles, no matter how much it rains. One of the great advantages of having the run situated where it is, atop a steep slope leading down to the highway.

3)Discourage your dog from eating dirt as well, though of course they are all going to ingest a bit. Just do your best, and we'll see if we can get the Parks Department to dump the next load of wood chips right over the muddy area that keeps getting exposed.

4)Try even harder to make sure that every last bit of excrement ends up inside a plastic bag, and outside the run. Not just your dog's excrement. Nearly all of us do a great job picking up after our dogs, but it's easy for a dog to squat for a moment without anyone noticing. If you see some unclaimed poop, and have a bag to spare, get rid of it. Somebody will do the same for you sometime. It's good karma!

5)Under no circumstances board your dog in a kennel.

6)Did I mention that you shouldn't panic?

But what some veterinarians will say is "Vaccinate your dog for leptospirosis. Don't let him/her offleash. Don't take him/her to a dog park. Don't let him/her interact with strange dogs." Etc. Etc.

But the current vaccine doesn't work for all strains, probably including the strain that killed those dogs in Brooklyn. Offleash activities improve a dog's overall physical fitness and emotional well-being, which leads to a stronger immune system. Poorly socialized dogs who aren't at ease in the presence of their own species feel more stress, which plays as much havoc with their immune systems as it does ours.

Good health is not simply a matter of avoiding potential negatives--it's much more about actively seeking positives. Dogs naturally love exercise and social activities, and to deprive them of this for the sake of their health is wildly counterproductive, to say the least. Particularly since the 'dozens' of local dogs (number currently unknown) who have contracted this disease so far this year--out of the perhaps one million dogs in the city--well, are you wearing a surgical mask in the subway? Your chances of catching swine flu are at least as good as your dog's of catching leptospirosis, assuming you take modest precautions against both diseases. And did you know most of the confirmed swine flu cases in the U.S. are right here in New York City? So did your doctor tell you to move to the country and become a recluse?
(Mexico City)

The efficacy of the surgical masks has also been questioned. And swine flu, thus far, has not proven to be such a serious threat. It, like leptospirosis, is nothing new--dogs and humans alike can cope with infectious diseases, having encountered so many in our travels together--we do a much better job spreading them than succumbing to them.

Like any doctor, it's a vet's duty to warn you of every potential consequence, and to make you aware of every possible treatment. It's a vet's business to administer vaccinations, which the veterinary pharmaceutical companies go to some pains to promote, and which every vet has to keep stocked up on, at no small expense to the practice. A good vet knows where to draw the line between duty and business. But remember, they're learning as they go as well. Nobody knows your dog like you do. And only you can decide what's best for him.

Max, get out of that puddle.

New developments in the plan to alter Fort Washington Park--would you believe the funding was cut?

2009-06-10T11:06:00.003-04:00

Although I haven't been using Washington Tykes much lately to keep people informed about developments in this story, the story has continued to develop--for those who haven't heard about it yet (and hardly anyone has)--Mayor Bloomberg's administration, having promised a whole host of improvements to our North Manhattan riverfront parks, finds itself currently unable to pay for them--but we could still see Fort Washington Park shut down for months, and paving substantially increased. But really, it's just not known right now what precisely will happen. I've been waiting on several people to send me more information, but could be they're still waiting to be updated themselves.

So if you want to read a bit more about it, head on over to Friends of Fort Washington Park, and get the scoop even the Manhattan Times hasn't made yet (maybe in this Friday's issue?).

I am proud to announce, however, that the Manhattan Times has included Washingon Tykes on its online community page. We're at the very bottom of the page, but that's an alphabetical thing.

Party to celebrate Max's 7th Birthday, Sunday, June 7th.

2009-06-01T11:22:00.006-04:00

Noon to 3pm, show up whenever you want, stay as long as you want, but all attendees must caress the birthday boy, and tell him what a good dog he is, because he IS.

Presents--oh c'mon, we aren't going to inflict our consumerist insanity on our dogs, are we? If it would make you feel really happy to give Max a small token of your regard, that's fine with us (and presumably with him), but we ask that you do so at some point in time before or after the day of the party. With Max, you generally can't go wrong with food or balls. Though now I think on it, he did say something about really wanting a bigscreen plasma TV.....hey, it was worth a try. ;)

But seriously, just bring your own sweet selves and your own sweet dogs--Max has made many friends over the past two years and change, making Yolanda and myself many friends in the process, and that's what we're celebrating here, and that's probably the only kind of celebration dogs are capable of understanding anyhow.

We're probably going to have carrot cake--lots of it--a few other delectables--and I'm going to try and figure out how to provide enough cool drinks for everybody--if anybody could loan us a cooler or three, or an old steel washtub we could dump lots of ice in, please let me know. The dogs are much easier--we're laying in a good supply of healthy treats, and there'll be plenty of water available.

Although RSVP's are not required, it would be highly appreciated if you could tell us whether or not you're coming, or at least whether you think you'll be coming, and who you'll be bringing. Give us some idea how big of a shindig we're planning here. Just respond to this article, or email me personally (lyonscj@gmail.com). Anybody who brings their dog to the run while the party is on is automatically invited to the party, so we've got to allow for that as well.

I've checked weather.com, accuweather, weather underground, and the National Weather Service--as you would expect in this era of sophisticated meteorological software and satellite imagery, none of them agree what the weather will be like next Sunday--might be some showers, might be utterly perfect, but nobody thinks it'll be pouring all day. Sounds like pleasant conditions overall. If need be we'll figure out an alternate date--you can always check here for updates.

I know many who would like to attend simply won't be able to make it--we'll be at the run plenty of other evenings in the next few weeks, so you can always congratulate him then--perhaps on his actual birthday, which is Tuesday, June 9th. He won't understand what the fuss is about any better than he will at the party, but he'll appreciate the attention, or at least he'll let you throw a ball for him. If he had his way, he'd be at the run every evening, having his own kind of party. Much as we want to make this about him, it's still really about us--and about saying thanks to all of you and your dogs for being such good friends and neighbors.

Think sunny thoughts for next Sunday, and we hope to see all of you then.

Chris

Faces you don't forget (names you sometimes do)

2009-05-29T14:49:00.013-04:00

So many Washington Tykes, so little memory--these photos were taken over a number of months, at the run, and down by the river. Some are old friends, some I only met once. I'll fill in the names where I can. But don't the faces tell you all you need to know?

Aries.

Leo.

Brindle.

Beauregard.

Benson.

Nala.

Rottweiler who is not Bo.

Jack.

Copa & Mario.

Shoot, I've met this beautiful Bull Terrier several times. It'll come to me. (editing in) NONI! That's it!

Sam.

Bloodhound who is not Trusty from Lady and The Tramp.

Westy.

Bruce.

Corgi who is not Basil.

Yuki.

Now who could this handsome fella be?

(Some photos taken by Yolanda Garcia--including the first and last photos)

Spring Clean-up Day '09

2009-05-21T15:20:00.013-04:00

(click images to enlarge)

So as you probably noticed, it rained last Saturday. Not all the time, and it was mainly just a few drops, but the hardest rain of the day came right before 10am, and I was gloomily speculating about what effect this would have on turn-out as I approached the run.

Turned out some people had shown up a lot earlier than me--as early as 8am in some cases. Bailea, our dedicated run manager and co-founder, had made it up here from Brooklyn by then, and the tools had been dropped off, so that worked out really well--it was more like a seven hour clean-up, where people showed up, worked an hour or two, left, and were replaced by others just arriving. Some worked four hours or more. And Bailea, of course, was there the whole time. But everybody who showed up to work even an hour deserves a round of applause. Or a drink container with "It's My Park!" on it, which is what we actually got this time around.

It should be said two of the humans present were having as much fun as the dogs--including their dog, Jonny.

Piper the Labradoodle, atypically stationary--snap a picture quick!
And she's off!

It's always a guessing game as to how many people show up to work--Bailea tried to keep tabs on the number of volunteers with a sign-up sheet, but it was still hard to keep track--definitely over thirty people total, not counting the dogs (who only volunteered to get in our way, anyhow). Imagine how many people would have put in an appearance if it wasn't rainy and humid--the weather was amazing later in the day, but that didn't do much for turn-out.

This time, the Parks Department gave us plenty of shovels and plastic rakes, but only two small wheelbarrows, and no metal rakes (which are better-suited to spreading the chips). Every year, there are more "It's My Park Day" events (and more dog runs), and the supplies get stretched thinner and thinner. Bailea certainly put in for enough equipment, and we've proven in the past that we can use all they can give us, but we got shorted nonetheless. The wheelbarrow shortage in particular was really slowing us down.

Then Daniel Mercado of the Parks Department showed up to say hi. Danny is manager for the city parkland the Rocky Run is on--and a whole lot more North Manhattan parkland besides, but he still found time to listen to our problems, hear our suggestions, and then he got on the horn with one of his guys, who found us two more wheelbarrows in Fort Tryon that weren't being used--the big plastic kind. Half an hour or so later, the calvary came riding in, and we could finally start making serious progress.

Need a little help there, Max?

"That's enough goldbricking, you two! Back to work!"

Kristen and Kona.

Maggie and Heather (and no, you're not imagining it, the wood chips ARE smoking--heat created by decomposition. Shovel faster!)

Sophie and Augusta.
You'll miss Augusta after she moves away, Sophie--you won't be the only one, either.
"Aw, you didn't have to throw this cool going-away party just for me!"

Are we having fun yet?

One of many little dramas that played out during our labors--Trinity the Smooth Fox Terrier came to the sudden realization that shovels are a deadly menace that must be stopped! Before it's too late!

Mugging Heather for bits of her apple.

Before.
After!

The question you always ask is "How do those crazy mutts get us to break our backs shovelling wood chips while they goof off?" And the answer is "Maybe they're not the crazy ones."

I know for a fact that many if not most dog parks in this city that see a lot more traffic get nowhere near as many volunteers as us. We may not have the most amenities, and our restaurant options could be better, but we've got some pretty awesome neighbors. The Heights are alright, and nobody better forget it. Right Max?

Tucker

2009-05-20T15:00:00.003-04:00

I'll be getting up a report on our successful Spring Clean-up very soon, but first there is some very sad news to report. One of our first and most admired Rocky Run regulars has passed. I just found out this weekend that Tucker, as handsome and big-hearted a German Shepherd Dog as I've ever had the privilege to know, died very recently, at nine years of age.

Julie, Tucker's person, has been a great supporter of the dog park, and we all extend our deepest sympathies to her and the rest of his family. You do not get over such a loss quickly, but we do hope to see Julie again soon.

I never got as many satisfactory pictures of Tucker as I'd have liked, but here's a couple I hadn't previously published on the blog. It was dusk, and there was precious little light, but that hopeful gleam in Tucker's eyes as he pursues Augusta is how I'd like to remember him.

A dog's life should not measured by years, but by how much joy and wonder he gets to experience--and how much others experience through him. By that yardstick, Tucker had a damn good life.

Spring Clean-up Day--Saturday, May 16th, 10am to 2pm. Come tiptoe through the tulips.

2009-05-01T14:15:00.003-04:00

Actually better tiptoe carefully around them, after all the work that went into planting them. But didn't they turn out nicely?

Our main purpose in cleaning up the run is to make sure the surface remains suitable for canine recreation, but we also have a responsibility to the community at large, to make this remote and sometimes slightly foreboding section of our community a bit more inviting. The Rocky Run, I have often noted, has its share of fans who don't even seem to have dogs of their own. It just makes the neighborhood a friendlier place, and that's something we can all be proud of. Or rather, it's something we can be proud of if we actually show up to help make it happen, which is what Clean-up Day is all about. No way of knowing what the weather will be like, but it'd sure be nice to see another turn-out like the one we had last spring. I hear The Parks Department is still speaking in awed reverent tones of the vast horde of volunteers who turned up for that one.

So mark the date on your calendar, set aside some clothes you don't mind getting dirty, and bring the pooches if you like--just don't expect them to help. Though I'm sure they wouldn't mind digging up the garden. Don't even think about it, Max.

Community Board 12 General Meeting, April 28th (tomorrow night!), 7:00pm.

2009-04-27T15:48:00.005-04:00

Once again at the Russ Berrie Medical Science Pavilion, on St. Nicholas Avenue, between 167th & 168th St. Just walk in from St. Nicholas, and the auditorium is on your left.

The resolution in support of the Parks Department's plan to renovate Fort Washington Park, substantially increasing the amount of paved surface, and diminishing green space, will almost certainly be voted on by the community board tomorrow night. Members of the public can't vote on the resolution, but they can exercise significant influence on the community board members by showing up and making their opinions known.

There will be a sign-up sheet (not to be confused with the overall attendance sheet) where people can sign up to speak for three minutes. Everyone is encouraged to do this.

However things turn out tomorrow night, we are not done. But tomorrow night may quite well be the last time that a large turnout of concerned citizens can have any serious impact on the parks plan. Please make every effort to attend, and to bring other concerned people with you. The longer you wait to speak up, the less impact your voice will have. Tomorrow night, you'll have a chance to add your voice to many others--don't let it slip away.

Rocky Run Regulars: Benson & Gus

2009-04-24T16:00:00.005-04:00

(click larger images to enlarge)

Cheating a bit here--Gus, the delightful black and tan mutt seen here, isn't a Rocky Run Regular--just visiting our run a few weeks back. He was staying in the neighborhood while his people were on vacation. He normally lives on Roosevelt Island, which has TWO dog runs, and even its own dog blog.

Gus was self-evidently a seasoned run veteran, but he met his match in our own Benson--formerly Benji--you can call him Benny. Whatever you call him, he was adopted by his new people via the Rocky Run--interested in getting a dog, they had happened to see him playing there. When his former owner couldn't keep the gangly hound/german pointer/whatever mix anymore, it was Jerry Culligan who arranged for them to adopt Benji, who got very slightly renamed, very slightly retrained, and loved to distraction.

And has, in the process of adapting to his new home, blossomed from a somewhat nervous, awkward, frequently-bullied adolescent into a sociable, confident rough&tumbler, up for just about anything. I loves me a happy ending. But I loves me a nice friendly dog-tussle even more. And so do you. So here ya go.

Polar Bears on the Hudson

2009-04-11T18:15:00.003-04:00

You saw it here first.

Okay, actually it's Logan & Ben over at the dog beach, last February. But hey, if we could SAY they're Polar Bears, maybe TPTB would leave the park alone? Nah, they'd probably start drilling for oil.

Fort Washington Barks: Bear & Nala

2009-04-07T15:45:00.003-04:00

Bear the husky mix is a longtime visitor to the park, but we'd never met him until last February, when I took these pictures.

He doesn't necessarily take to every dog he meets, but he sure took to Max in a hurry.

Nala was wearing her coat, which made sense on a chilly day--not sure why she wanted the hardhat, though.

So many dogs, so little time. I shall try to catch up in the coming days.

The General Meeting of Community Board 12: For those who were wondering--

2009-03-26T22:44:00.002-04:00

Here's a bit of good news--we didn't lose. The vote was postponed for technical reasons. We did get to read and present our petition (1,181 signatures, with many more still to be added), and speak to the Community Board for about nine minutes, altogether. It would be fair to say we made a strong impression.

The Parks Department resolution to approve their plan, which was never voted on by a full quorum at the committee level, is going back to committee, and then back to the general meeting. Next month. So this is not over. And if you were hoping you'd still have a chance to speak up about this issue, and defend open green space in our North Manhattan riverfront parks--you do.

In the near future, there will be more detailed information posted on the newly created Friends of Fort Washington Park blog.

And in the meantime, I'll try to get some nice doggy photos up here.

Remember--Community Board 12 General Meeting THIS COMING TUESDAY.

2009-03-20T16:02:00.003-04:00

General Meeting of Community Board 12
Tuesday, March 24th
Russ Berrie Pavilion
1150 St. Nicholas Avenue
(between west 167th & 168th Streets)
7:00pm

You like seeing green grassy areas turned into pavement? Of course not. Hardly any New Yorkers do--we all instinctively, reflexively, even obsessively look for places we can get off the concrete and asphalt, and reconnect with Mother Earth--all the better if Mother Hudson is there as well. But how often do we ever take a stand against the creeping encroachment of hard surfaces, based all too often on the desire of ambitious people to build yet another edifice to vanity on a little island that already ranks among the most paved-over places in the history of the world? Self-evidently, not often enough.

I've touted cb12 meetings in the past, some of which have been more important than others--but this meeting could not be more crucial to the cause of protecting green space in Fort Washington Park, and all along the western shore of North Manhattan. This is for all the marbles, people. This is where the community board is going to vote on whether or not to approve the plan as it currently stands, with greatly expanded paving in Fort Washington Park and elsewhere, and a lot less grassy weedy splendor for us and the dogs, and the wildlife in the park as well. And not one of the really good changes called for in the plan require this extra paving--we don't have to choose between getting the parks fixed up a bit, and keeping our little strip of grass by the river as it is now. Except they keep trying to tell us we do. And if we don't show up to tell them we don't accept this equation, they take that silence as consent.

Because it's mainly been the same small group of dog-loving people showing up month after month, the parks department and the community board people have been telling us we only represent a small minority of park users (even though we're one of the largest groups to show up at the parks committee meetings on a regular basis, if not the largest). Nothing would refute this falsehood better than having a bunch of Washington Tykes readers, and their friends, and their families, show up next Tuesday night. It's a matter of honor for us to show up en masse, as we did when we were opposing the dog run that would have taken away our offleash hours. This is a tougher fight we're in now, but it's also potentially an even more important one.

It will be a long meeting, and much of it will revolve around the renewal of liquor licenses, this being the primary purpose of general meetings for our community boards. But there will be a chance for us to make a short presentation--and our words will carry a lot more weight if we have a lot of supporters there at the meeting. There will not be a need for every person who comes to the meeting to sign up in order to make a statement, but the most important statement any of us can make is to SHOW UP. Being ready to put aside an evening to go to a public meeting speaks volumes about how much you care about keeping that narrow strip of grass by the river from getting narrower. And not coming makes a statement too.

Best for you to get there by 7pm (just to get your bearings, and connect with like-minded attendees), but the meeting won't really be underway until around 7:15pm, and you can walk in at any time, out at any time, back in again at any time--in other words, you won't be locked in a room for several hours with bureaucrats. If you fall a bit behind schedule, and look at the clock, and say "Damn, it's too late to go"--it's not. Trust me. Come on over. It's a big auditorium, people are coming and going all the time during these meetings, nobody cares.

Last time I went to one, I saw Councilman Jackson standing out in the lobby of the building as I was leaving--waiting for something he was particularly interested in to come up on the agenda. If you have other issues you're concerned with, this would also be a chance to hobnob with the hoi polloi, strike up conversations with influential people, get snippets of insider info. You learn a lot about how the city is run from these meetings, and they can actually be pretty entertaining at points. We expect our little moment in the spotlight to be very entertaining.

So please--if you've been telling yourself "I really should go to one of these meetings and tell the parks department how I feel about keeping the natural beauty of our parks intact"--this is the one. This may be the LAST one. It's almost certainly the last one you wouldn't have to take a whole day off work to attend. Go to your calendar, right now, and mark off the date. Next Tuesday. Eyes on the prize. Win or lose, let's make them know they were in a fight. Let's be dogs with a bone here, and let them TRY to grab our green space away from us! GRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

URGENT--keep dogs out of the river on Sunday!

2009-03-20T11:40:00.002-04:00

And maybe a few days afterwards, but Sunday in particular. Caroline (Smarties' person) just emailed me AP's coverage of this story, and you can read about it in more detail in this article from The Journal News.

WHITE PLAINS - About 2 million gallons of raw sewage could be discharged into the Hudson River while a pipeline in suburban New York is repaired.

Westchester County health officials say people should avoid contact with the water on Sunday. Work on the major trunk sewer line in Yonkers is scheduled from midnight to 4 a.m.

Health officials say a gasket on the line north of the Yonkers Joint Wastewater Treatment Plant needs to be replaced to stanch a minor leak.

Hudson River Sloop Clearwater Environmental Director Manna Jo Greene says the sewage will have an impact on aquatic life.

And others are saying it's no big deal, but they aren't promising to pay any vet bills if they're wrong. It's not really the height of dog beach season yet, but a lot of dogs will jump in the river for any reason (or no reason, what the heck?). Let's just be glad this didn't happen in July.

Fortunately, the Hudson keeps flushing itself out, as we keep on flushing crap into it. But immediate health concerns aside, this is the kind of thing that makes you aware of how inadequate the existing protections are for our magnificent river, that has somehow managed to stay alive through all the years of unrestricted dumping--let's keep it alive and healthy. Our dogs too.

The road less traveled--but not for long.

2009-03-09T16:09:00.006-04:00

Following up on the previous article, Andrew (Bo's person) has put together a very telling slideshow, demonstrating what the proposed paved road on the western edge of the Fort Washington Park ballfield would do to the quiet beauty of that spot, and to people's ability to enjoy it as anything other than a means of getting from Point A to Point B a little quicker.

And that's what it's all about, right? We spend our whole workaday week rushing around, trying to do everything we need to get done in the inadequate time we have to get it done in--and if we manage to find a little time to ourselves to head down to the river, what better way to spend it than to rush around some more? Why stop and smell the wet grass and wildflowers, and listen to the nesting orioles and song sparrows vocalizing overhead? Particularly once they aren't there anymore.

And yet strangely, the more people I talk to about this, the more clear it becomes that many prefer that road less traveled by, precisely because it's grassy and wanting wear--Frost didn't say anything about it wanting asphalt, though. Or two foot gravel shoulders.

If you're interested in helping us fight city hall a little longer, you can respond to this blog article or the one below it, and we'll get back to you. In a rush, even.

The Plan for Fort Washington Park--Paved with Good Intentions.

2009-03-05T15:45:00.004-05:00

This past Tuesday, at the Parks & Cultural Affairs Committee meeting for Community Board 12, the proposed PlanNYC Improvements for Fort Washington Park were presented by Stantec, the consulting firm hired by the Parks Department. We've seen rougher versions of these designs in the past--this is as specific as they're going to get before they actually start digging the park up. I photographed some of the presentation slides as they were being projected on a screen, and have uploaded some of those images to the blog--which would not be necessary if these images had been put on the official parks website, and made widely available to the public. We were told at the meeting that this had not been done yet, but they'd look into it.

Well and good, but the last real chance for the public to comment on these plans will be on March 24th, at the cb12 general meeting, which will start at 7pm, at the Russ Berrie Pavilion, 1150 St. Nicholas Avenue, between 167th and 168th Street. You can view cb12's March calendar here. That being the meeting where the community board will vote on whether or not to approve the plan.

If cb12 doesn't approve the plan, the Parks Department can still go ahead with it--though they'd rather not have to, in order to preserve the appearance of public support. But by the same token, the community board members would rather not vote against the plan--neither organization wants to tread on the other's toes, if they can help it. And there's no line item veto here. Up or down, yes or no.

It's possible the plan may be tweaked slightly before it's presented at the general meeting. But in most if not all respects, this is what they're putting forward, and this is almost certainly what is going to be built. They still have to get a final approval from the Public Design Commission, but it's hard for members of the public to attend those meetings, which are held downtown, on weekdays.

There are many worthwhile aspects to the changes they want to make. For example, a playground was long overdue, and they have chosen an excellent site for it. There will be working water fountains again (including one dog-friendly fountain), a new restroom facility (which I assume will be open about as reliably as the existing one), enhanced athletic facilities, and a wood chip path to a long-forgotten revolutionary war monument.

But sadly, the plans we saw call for the elimination of quite a lot of open grassy space in favor of pavement--there has been an overriding desire by the Bloomberg appointees controlling this process to build facilities that will have the mayor's name on them--a legacy for an administration that may end next year. That has become increasingly clear to those of us who have been attending the cb12 meetings. We've been listened to politely, and small efforts have been made to accommodate us, but it's very evident that before the public was consulted in any way, the outlines of the plan were already in place, and only public comments supportive of what they already wanted to do were given serious consideration.

It's the largely unsculpted rustic nature of Fort Washington Park that makes it so unique for a Manhattan riverfront area--and so ideal for exercising dogs, or rambling with them, or just sitting and watching the river flow by together, which is why dog people have been among the biggest advocates for leaving this aspect of the park untouched. And you don't have to own a dog to feel this way about it. There is widespread agreement among most people who use the park that the unpaved space is invaluable, and irreplaceable--but it's easy to split us into different 'user groups', each with specific needs and wants, and play the old turf wars game that so often makes our city parks into battlefields. Everybody has a shopping list of things they'd like to have, if they don't have to pay for them (only of course we are paying for them). Open grassy space has few natural constituents. Open green space is always an open invitation for development. Open green space is seen, all too often, as a blank slate for ambitious people to write upon. Which is why we have so little of it.

Still, not all change is bad, and no matter what final form the park alterations may take, we hope the park itself will continue to serve the needs of our community, and that more people can enjoy it. We just don't accept that this has to come at the price of diminishing yet again the places where we can all briefly escape the gruelling monotony of concrete and asphalt--a necessary evil to be sure, but not exactly hard to find in Manhattan.

Everybody should take note--once they start building, the park will be closed to all of us for quite a long time. And it's surely not asking too much to keep us properly informed of the changes that will shut us out of our park for perhaps a year or more, and are being financed by our tax dollars. So I've no compunctions whatsoever about posting these images here. Each image can be clicked on to expand it.

The existing paths will be widened substantially--perhaps by as much as four feet on each side, including gravel shoulders.

I was surprised no parent groups were there to see the final plans for the playground. It's going to be one of the larger facilities of its type in this part of the city, clearly.

They are determined to put a paved path on the west side of the ballfield. They called it a compromise that they went from a 12 foot wide asphalt path to a 7 foot wide asphalt path with 2 foot wide gravel shoulders on each side--so basically, one foot narrower. We dug our heels in at the meeting, and it turns out that ADA accessibility (their stated primary motivation for doing this) only requires a five foot path. So when the committee (with no quorum present) unofficially voted to approve the overall plan only if the path was five feet with no gravel shoulders, they said they'd look into it. And we won't know what they decided until the general meeting, most likely. But a five foot path would certainly be less destructive to the beauty of that spot. They also agreed to look into eliminating some pavement at the north end of the field. But they're not sure they can do that either.

Examples of equipment and facilities they plan to install in the park.

When I say 'paved with good intentions', I'm being sarcastic, but I know the people who are spearheading these changes mean well, even though their motives are at least as much about politics as public service. Somebody has to run the parks, and it's impossible to satisfy everyone. In the end, we get the parks we deserve--most of us let these decisions be made on our behalf, and then complain about them afterwards.

But not all of us.

To Be Continued.....

The Big Chill

2009-02-15T14:27:00.001-05:00

These photos are from a few weeks back, and more than one morning spent down in the park. No overarching theme, other than brrrrrr!

(click larger images to enlarge)

Duke.

Not going to make the cover of Audubon Magazine, but this is a sub-adult Bald Eagle riding an ice floe downriver, just south of the GWB, back on January 19th. They don't get the pure white head until they're about five years old, but this one's getting pretty close.

Hark! Who goes there, friend or foe?

Friends!

Your run-of-the-mill throwing ball is not going to cut it for Beauregarde, nossiree.

Winston & Beau.

Our good pal Cal, waiting outside a local Bodega. Not a park picture, but in keeping with the general 'brrr!' theme.

Smarties on ice.

Somehow Chelsea's facial expression reminds me of Snoopy, right after he's gotten off a particularly trenchant bon mot. Tender (partly obscured on the right) didn't seem particularly impressed.

Max is not the most cold-loving dog around, but he still thinks there's no business like snow business.

(some photos by Yolanda Garcia)

"ABE L. GOT A DOG."

2009-02-12T23:20:00.046-05:00

You can see these statues in the town square of Hodgenville, Kentucky--the one of the boy Lincoln and a dog was only dedicated last year. The boy, holding a spelling book, is looking right into the eyes of the somberly seated figure at the other end of the square. The dog, meanwhile, is only interested in the boy. He also has a name, which I'll get to presently.

As you might have heard a few times by now, today is the 200th anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's birth--Charles Darwin's too. I'm in more of a Lincoln mood this year, but maybe I can do an article on Darwin's dogs next February.

Yeah, Lincoln had dogs, and quite a few. Do not let the cat people bamboozle you. They perpetually insist our 16th President's heart belonged to kitties, and he absolutely did have a deep affection for them--for all animals, really. The stories of his kindness to birds and beasts of varying shapes and sizes are impossible to count--and quite certainly a lot of them are wildly embellished or just made up out of whole cloth. The first murdered President's image became heavily mythologized in the years following his death, but there's no shortage of reliable witnesses to this aspect of Lincoln's character. The stories go all the way back to his poorly documented childhood, and show a consistent pattern of him being unable to simply shrug and say "It's just an animal." It seems that he needed to be around them as much as possible--given his very well documented penchant for melancholy (which slid over into what we'd call clinical depression on several occasions throughout his life), he clearly used his various pets to chase away the blues--which puts him in a very large club. But he also belonged to the much more exclusive club of people who sincerely and unselfconsciously care how animals feel, and are willing to put themselves to considerable pains to make them feel better.

Probably the best-known instance of this would be Fido--Lincoln's last dog in Springfield, before he became President. You don't meet a lot of Fido's these days--it's become kind of a stereotypical dog name that isn't actually used much anymore, but I have to wonder if the story of Lincoln's Fido wasn't one of the reasons for its erstwhile popularity.

Convinced Fido wouldn't survive the trip to Washington, Lincoln asked a neighbor's family to take care of him, and make sure he was happy--and even left them Fido's favorite horsehair sofa for him to rest on. This being a time when most family dogs weren't even allowed to sleep indoors, and Fido was no tiny pampered lap-sitter, judging by this photo.

Lincoln's solicitousness towards the emotional needs of a mere mutt must have seemed odd to many at the time (and let's face it, to just about anyone today who doesn't have a dog). It's no exaggeration to say Fido ended his days in considerably more comfort than Lincoln had begun his own, though both of them had the misfortune to die by violence. It doesn't take much imagination to realize he loved seeing Fido enjoy the pleasures of middle class existence--as his animal friends had shared his early privations, they also shared his hard-won prosperity. It is a pleasant thing to see a big dog lounging on a comfortable sofa as if he owns the place, and it makes you appreciate the little luxuries of your own life more. Though I suppose some of the dog beds they're making these days are just as good, and easier to clean.

Very little solid information of Lincoln's boyhood has survived--and what we have is so mixed together with local folktales and self-serving anecdotes as to make it impossible to know for certain where truth ends and legend picks up. But it is generally accepted that he was close friends with Austin Gollaher, a slightly older boy who lived in Knob Creek Kentucky, where Lincoln's family moved when Abe was about two and a half--they stayed there until 1816. Gollaher is best known as the boy who saved the future President from drowning--only he and Lincoln knew for sure if that actually happened, and there are a suspiciously large number of stories about Lincoln almost dying as a child and being miraculously saved--but then again, who'd believe he was born within a few hours of Charles Darwin, or murdered on Good Friday? I mean, who writes this stuff?

When Gollaher was a very old man, J. Rogers Gore, a local Kentucky journalist, began to collect reminiscences of Gollaher's brief childhood friendship with Lincoln--which as Gore himself said, were clearly affected by wistful nostalgia, as well as the Lincoln Legend that Gollaher had been heavily exposed to over the years. But there doesn't seem to be much serious doubt they had been friends. And it was Austin Gollaher who told us the story of Abraham Lincoln's first dog, in episodes scattered across "The Boyhood of Abraham Lincoln", a narrative composed of Gollaher's stories that Gore published some years later.

And I have no more idea how much of what follows is true than anybody else. Some of it comes across as overly melodramatic (partly due to Gore polishing Gollaher's already well-rehearsed narratives), much of it sounds almost Lassie-esque, though the dog in question was no movie star. But hey, we don't have strong documentation for most of those Lincoln cat stories either. And this is a dog blog. I've selected a few excerpts (and by no means the most improbable)--make up your own minds how much is real, and how much is just a shaggy dog story told by a sentimental backwoodsman--who, I have to say, comes across as a pretty modern type of dog-lover. Rather like Lincoln himself. You have to ask how much did Gollaher's friendship with this oversized oversensitive boy affect the way he saw the world--and why would he put so much emphasis on the dog, in an era where they were still mainly treated as working animals? Gollaher couldn't seem to separate the two in his mind. So they remain permanently together in his memories.

Thomas Gollaher [Austin's father] had just trimmed a smooth spot upon the trunk of a big tree and was preparing to "indite" a letter, a simple, three or four word letter, in which he would find amusement, but others would perhaps see nothing except a senseless scrawling when a short distance ahead of him he saw young Lincoln trudging along with a good-sized dog under one arm and a small sack of meal upon the opposite shoulder. It was a heavy load, very much too heavy for the lad, big as he was, and he carelessly threw the sack of meal down under a clump of bushes, then very gently placed the dog on the ground beside it. The day was hot, and under his burden Abe was steaming and perspiring. He fanned himself with a bunch of leaves and dropped down beside the dog.

The curious Mr. Gollaher slipped noiselessly from behind one big tree to another, Indian-fashion, until he was within a few feet of Abe. Then he watched and listened.

Abe was holding the dog close to his breast, calling it "Honey" and talking to it most sympathetically. Again he placed it on the ground by the bag of meal, and went to a small spring across the road and brought back a cap full of water which he gave the dog to drink. Then he took a hunting knife from his belt and quickly whittled out two rude splints. Next he peeled the bark from some pawpaw bushes, placed a splint on each side of the dog's right foreleg and wrapped it with the soft pliable bark. The wounded dog licked Abe s hands and face, and whined its thanks into his ear. The new friends loved each other, the boy because it was natural for him, out of his sympathetic heart, to love that which suffered, and the dog out of gratitude for the great kindness shown him.

"By holy, he's fixed that dog's broken leg!" exclaimed the astonished Gollaher in a voice that Abe overheard. Realizing that he had disclosed his presence he stepped out from his listening-post and asked if he could be of any assistance to "Doctor Abraham."

Without displaying the slightest surprise over the sudden interruption, the boy quietly asked Mr. Gollaher for a piece of rawhide, and the two finished the job by wrapping tightly the bark and splints.

"Give me another piece of rawhide, please, Mr. Gollaher, to tie around the dog's neck, so I can fasten him to a stock."

"All right Abe; here it is, but don't you know the sun is about down and you are at least a mile from home? Your pappy'11 tan your hide when you get there. Now, you'd better move along; I'm going the other way, just as soon as I write my letter." And he stepped over to the tree which he had prepared for his inscription.

"I'll tell you what I'll write," said Mr. Gollaher with a humorous twinkle in his eye. "I'll just say Abe got a dog."

"Now, please, Mr. Gollaher, don't tell father about the dog," begged Abe, "for he might try to kill it to put it out of its misery; and I want it to get well, so Austin and I can play with it."

Mr. Gollaher promised, and Abe turned homeward, his sack of meal over his shoulder, the dog hopping on three legs at his side. Then upon the tree, the woodsman wrote, in ragged letters:

"ABE L. GOT A DOG."

Abe trudged along stopping now and then to pat the dog on the head, and to assure it that the broken leg would soon be well. When in hailing distance of his home he paused to reconnoiter and to plan. He must do something with the dog; he must hide it temporarily, because there was grave danger that his father would kill it. Dropping his bag of meal, he hurriedly tied the crippled dog beneath a sheltering bush and told it to lie quiet until he got back.

"Down there by the tall sycamore tree, I have a dog tied to a sapling, and its leg is broken," Abe whispered to his mother, Thomas having fallen asleep in the chimney corner. "Please go with me to get him, and help me put him in the pen where the pigs used to stay; there's a roof over it and he won t get wet when it rains."

Mrs. Lincoln, always indulgent of Abraham, consented, and the two went out into the night to find the dog and bring him in to his new home the pig pen. Abe carried the wounded animal in his arms, patting him and calling him "Honey," as they made their way back to the house.

"You love the dog so much," said his mother, when Abraham asked her what to name him, "I reckon you'd better call him Honey ; that was what you called him last night when you untied him from the sapling."

So the dog was christened "Honey."

"He'll do lots of good things for me," said Abe to his mother. "You just watch and see."

When at last, after much careful nursing, the crude bandage was removed, Abraham was terribly distressed to find the leg miserably twisted, and he was much afraid the dog would never be able to run fast. However, Honey developed speed that was surprising, and as the leg did not pain him or interfere with his activities Abe was happy, for physical appearance did not count much with him then as ever.

"Honey was not good to look upon," said Mr. Gollaher; "his twisted leg reminded me of a curve in the road ; but he was the smartest dog in the neighborhood, and made a fitting companion for Abe, since both were good and smart and ugly."

Having introduced Honey, Gollaher and Gore keep returning to him throughout the book, often to underscore Lincoln's kindness--and of course to consciously foreshadow future events, and build upon the already well-established image of a soul possessed with compassion--and a curious searching mind.

"Austin," said Abe, as he tenderly patted his dog, "father has been on the mourners bench and has prayed out loud once or twice, but I don't know so much about his religion."

"Why Abe, what's he done to make you say that?" asked Austin.

"Kicked Honey last night, and I don't believe anybody with even a little religion will kick a dog when it rubs its nose against him in a friendly way. That was all Honey did; just put his nose up against father's knee, and father kicked him on his twisted leg. I haven't been on the mourners bench," continued Abe, "but I wouldn't kick anybody's dog. What do you think about it, Austin?"

"Well, I don't know; maybe your father thinks it's no harm to kick a dog; maybe he thinks God doesn't like dogs."

"No, surely he wouldn't think that," said Abe earnestly. "He would be a mighty funny God if He didn't like a good dog."

Cruelty to animals, and Lincoln's reaction to it, was probably the most recurrent theme in Gollaher's recollections--

"Upon this occasion," said Mr. Gollaher, "a youngster called Freckles who was loafing around the mill awaiting the grinding of his corn, threw a stone and hit Abe's crippled dog. Honey yelped and Abe cried out: "Who hit my dog?

"Freckles", I said.

"Why did you do that, Freckles?" asked Abe, quicker and hotter than I had ever heard him speak before.

"Because the dog's ugly and I wanted to hear him holler," replied Freckles.

"Well," said Abe, "I am ugly too. Next time you want to hit somebody ugly, hit me; I'll know why you hit me; Honey doesn't."

This passage sounds very credible to me--there are many recorded instances of dogs appointing themselves assistant zookeepers over a private menagerie--

Abe's pets now numbered four: Honey, the crow, the goat and a pet raccoon. When he played around his home all four were with him, but when he went into the woods Honey only accompanied him. The raccoon gave him much trouble, and Abe wasn't so fond of him as he was of the crow or the goat. In fact the raccoon had tried to run away several times, but Honey always rounded him up and brought him back.

And this story falls into the "How many times could Lincoln have almost died as a kid?" category, but nobody's ever disproved it--as the story goes Lincoln disappeared one day while he was out rambling with his dog, and a search party was gathered--then--what's that Honey? Abe is in the old well?

From somewhere out of the night the dog came. He whined at her feet and looked up appealingly into the eyes of first one and then another, until, finding Mr. John, he jumped upon the miller and barked again and again, squarely in his face.

"Gather your torches!" John Hodgen commanded, "and we'll follow where the dog leads."

With a yelp, the panting Honey circled the corner of the house and dashed through the garden, barking as he ran. Everybody, as everybody usually does in such circumstances, expected the worst; expected the dog to lead them to Abraham's mangled body, though many a silent prayer went up for the boy s safety.

To the north and west of the Hodgen house Nolin River circled, and it was straight to the river that Honey led the searching party.

"I know where the boy is!" shouted John Hodgen joyously. "Why didn't I think of it before? He's lost in that confounded cave; we ll soon find him and I'll bet he's not hurt a bit. But I can't imagine what the boy meant by going into that hole; I have never known him to do a thing like that before."

When they reached the cave, John Hodgen commanded every one to be quiet while he blew his whistle three times. There was a moment's anxious silence.

Then from somewhere back in the cave came a faint voice:

"Here I am, but I'm fastened!"

The next day when the boys were discussing the adventure, Abe said: "Now, you see, Austin, Honey has paid me back for mending his broken leg."

Now I'm kind of raising my eyebrow at this story (some versions just have Honey kicking up a racket at the cave, and bringing in some curious hunters to rescue The Great Emancipator), but if a cat person ever dared to question its veracity, I'd be very pissed off. And none of this would be at all beyond the capacity of a smart backwoods cur.

Gollaher also told a story of how Lincoln came to find out what had happened to Honey before he rescued the injured pooch--now, 21st century dog lovers, try to tell me this one doesn't get you right where you live--I dare you. Seems they met an old itinerant man in the woods one day--

"Honey, behave yourself" commanded Abe, when he had recovered from the first surprise. But Honey only growled the more fiercely. Abe put his arm around the dog's neck and tried to quiet him, but Honey was not so easily appeased; he had fight in him and Abe had to cling tightly to keep him from springing on the stranger.

The ugly, dirty, little man seemed bewildered, but he spoke to the dog and snapped his fingers at him in an effort to make friends, though there was no inclination on the part of Honey to be friendly.

"Go away, or he will tear you to pieces," warned Austin; but the man did not move.

"Where did you get that dog?" But before Abe or Austin could answer he continued: "I believe on my soul it's my dog Whistle, come back to life. Whistle, don't you know me? Don't you know your old master? Come to me, Whistle; I want you. I want you to forgive me."

But Honey only snapped and growled the louder.

"Where'd you get the dog? Where'd you get my Whistle?" the little man inquired pathetically.

Abe and Austin were too astonished to answer; they were quite convinced now that the man was crazy. Finally he repeated the question, and Abe replied:

"No, sir, this is not your dog; he is my dog. I found him in the road with his leg broken, and I fixed his leg and nursed him till he got well. He's my dog, and nobody can take him from me."

"Exactly, exactly," mumbled the little man. "I know now Whistle was not killed. I thought he was dead when I saw him at the foot of the cliff with blood running from his mouth, and I went away and left him. I want him back; he is my dog," the old fellow whined.

"How did Honey get hurt?"

"Well," came the shamefaced answer, "I got mad at him because he wouldn't mind me, and I kicked him with my heavy shoe and he rolled over the cliff, and when I looked down I thought he was dead. And I felt sorry for him, and went away and left him there."

"Then there came into Abe's face a terrifying expression," said Mr. Gollaher. "It wasn't anger; it was righteous wrath, I suppose; I don't know how to describe it. But when Abe opened his mouth and spoke, I knew there was fight and defiance in every word."

"If you try to take Honey away from me, I ll make him tear you up," he said. "I'll make him grab you by the throat. Let's see you take him," and there was a blazing light in his eyes. "I dare you to try to put your hands on him. Here he is, take him! Why don't you take him? You are a coward!"

"All the time Abe was speaking, Honey was growling and gnashing his teeth. The two warriors were defiant and ready for battle. I was a little frightened, but it tickled me to hear Abe talking that way,because I had always wanted to see him fight."

"Why," Abe continued, "what right have you got to Honey? You tried to kill him; you kicked him and broke his leg and left him bleeding to death. Look at Honey's leg now, all twisted, because you kicked him over the cliff. Why don't you fall over a hill yourself, and break your own leg? Then you will know how Honey felt. A dog suffers when he is hurt just as much as a human. No, sir, you can't get Honey! He would rather die than go with you, and I would rather die than let him!" were Abe's parting words to Honey's old master."

My reaction to each of these stories is always "If that didn't really happen, it should have!" But with Lincoln, it really is hard to know where to draw the line. NONE of it is believable, particularly some of the things we know actually happened. Even his flaws make him seem larger than life. He truly wasn't this saintly perfect messianic figure--we've learned plenty about his driving ambition, his ruthless streak of political pragmatism, and even his lamentable racial beliefs--that changed over time, thanks in part to his talks with Frederick Douglass.

But it all had to start somewhere, and we would so love to know how such a remarkable man could have come into being, what influences shaped him as a child--and what persons--and it seems only natural to me that some of those persons had fur, or feathers. Maybe it was the cruelty and sadness he experienced in life, and witnessed so vividly all around him, that made him so desperate to show mercy to the most helpless creatures--and as he matured, that sense of empathy extended further and further, until it encompassed everything, and overcame the prejudices instilled in him, while transforming his politics into a vision that we still haven't caught up to. Make no mistake, you can like animals and despise people; but a love of humanity that isn't built upon a love of animals will no more stand than a house divided against itself--this I believe.

And my favorite story is actually quite believable, if a bit prosaic--Honey ran ahead of Abe and Austin while they were out one day, and found them some new acquaintances--a husband and wife pair of school teachers headed for Indiana, and in possession of a wondrous treasure--a copy of Robinson Crusoe that the woman read to Abe while they were staying in the area. Then, as now, dogs eagerly facilitated connections between strangers, and unknowingly altered the course of human lives.

Lincoln's father ran into financial difficulties at Knob Creek, and the family began to contemplate pulling up stakes and moving--always a worrying time for a poor boy with a dog--Abe confided to Gollaher--

"Well, I reckon I'm crying because father keeps on talking about moving to IndianAnner, or somewhere a long ways from here, and I don't want to go and neither does mother. And I'm afraid he won't let me take Honey. Then I never will be happy. I believe Honey knows father doesn't want him around, and that mother and I are worried about something, because when we talk about moving he just looks up at us for a minute or two, then kind o' whines and goes off and curls up in a corner. Of course, I know if we go and I have to leave Honey here you will treat him all right, but he would be awful lonesome, because he loves me more than anybody knows."

But Abe," said Austin, "you have been sad about one thing and another ever since you were a baby. Mother says you looked worried the day after you were born. She says you are now as big as a fourteen-year-old boy, and that you oughtn't to cry so much. Why, she said she caught you crying yesterday when she chopped a chicken's head off, so's we could have it for sister's birthday dinner. You ate plenty of the chicken just the same," Austin added laughingly.

People just can't know my feelings, and I reckon they never will. I wasn't crying about the chicken; I was crying because I felt bad about moving away from here. Of course, after the chicken was dead and cooked," continued Abe, "I ate some of it."

And later--

"You know, Austin, if we go to that place across the big river, I'll never get back. It's hard to get across Knob Creek sometimes, and I know I could never cross that big river; so when I tell you good-by I reckon I'll never see you again. I'll give you the crow and the coon, and maybe I'll give you the goat. But I m going to take Honey."

Lincoln's father doesn't come off so well in Gollaher's stories (though he has a few good moments here and there), but even he wouldn't have begrudged the dog who saved his son's life the right to travel to Indiana with them. And that's where the story ends, and begins.

"Good-by, Austin," said Abe simply, and the two boys wound their arms around each other. Then Abe broke away and led the cow across the stream, Honey following.

"I watched them as they ascended the hill," said Mr. Gollaher, "the wagon in front, Abe and Honey and the cow behind; I watched Abe, I watched him 'till the highest peak of his coonskin cap ducked below the hills, and then I fell upon my father's neck and sobbed."

So I know this is a pretty patchwork account drawn from a not entirely kosher historical source, but the 200th anniversary is almost over, and I reckon I won't be around for the 300th, so I figured I'd go on a piece (the style kind of rubs off on you). Anyway, now at least you'll have something to say to those darned cat people when they start in about how Lincoln was one of them. He wasn't one of anybody, I think. He was one of a kind. Whether it's the myth or the man you're talking about. And I'm pretty sure Gollaher was talking about both. But the dogs would have only known a comforting presence, felt a gentle hand, and sensed an abiding sadness, which we can be sure they did their best to assuage. Whether a dog saved the boy Lincoln's life or not, dogs certainly played their role in shaping the man he became, and giving his careworn existence some moments of free and unquestioned joy. And if there's any mercy in the universe--

"A million times since he left here I have seen him in these hills with Honey," the old fellow said." Why, just the other day I went down to Knob Creek down by the Nice Stone, and there I saw Abe, the boy with that sad strange expression upon his face, and I whispered, Abe, you went out into the world on an errand for God, and now you've come back to play with me. Call Honey and we will go out in the woods and pester the squirrels."

Happy Holidays from Washington Tykes

2008-12-24T18:00:00.005-05:00

Before the scoping meeting on Monday, I got Max down to the park--the windchill was below zero at that point, and he definitely needed his coat.

As we headed for the 158th St. stairway on our way home, a PEP vehicle showed up almost precisely at 9:00am--Max was leashed, and there were no problems, but be on the lookout for white vehicles with green markings--they also have Honda sedans.

A while before that, Max made a new friend--Derby is a Lab/Hound mix. Only five months old--first snow! Grown-up dog to pester and imitate! Yehhhh!

For a happy dog in a loving home, every day is Christmas--or Chanukhah, or Kwanzaa, or Eid--actually, dogs probably do sense the winter solstice, which is celebrated in all the above. Most humans can only manage a few days of genuine holiday spirit each year. But there's no merrier time than one spent with a new puppy--and to all people & pooches who are embarking on a new life of companionship and challenges together in this tough tenderhearted city, savor every moment, and we'll see you in the New Year.

Scoping meeting? More like Sno-Cone meeting.

2008-12-23T13:20:00.005-05:00

And yet we came--the Fort Washington Park Dog Owner's Group was pretty much the entire civilian turn-out yesterday morning--six of us dog people in total, including Jerry Culligan from the Rocky Run (who we consider an honorary member of FWPDOG). Considering the freezing weather, the fact that we'd had less than a full week's notice, and that quite a few of our members simply could not make it three days before Christmas, we were happy to have that many. No other advocacy groups put in an appearance.

Also present was Liz Ritter of Community Board 12, Jennifer Hoppa and Bob Redmond from the Parks Department, and Peter Mahoney from Stantec, the consulting firm hired to plan and execute the changes made to Riverside and Fort Washington Parks under this phase of PlanNYC. And there were two other people (both from the Parks Dept, I believe) whose names I didn't quite get. It's surprisingly difficult to hear clearly when there's an arctic wind whistling around your head, and you're wearing a hat and a hood at the same time. I'm just glad I bought a lot of cold weather clothing last winter.

This storage/nursery area just south of the ballfield would become a children's playground under the current plan--no parent advocacy groups showed up to ask about equipment, safety issues, etc. Just six locals who take their dogs to the park a lot. I draw no conclusions from that. I'm just saying.

The finer points of engineering tend to be lost under such formidable weather conditions, but we managed to get our points across to each other fairly well.

How cold was it? It was so cold, Marc actually wore a jacket and a knit hat, instead of his trademark vest and baseball cap.

We really do get that the rickety plank bridge at the north end of the ballfield has to go--we just don't agree that means there has to be a paved path alongside this tranquil lovely stretch of riverfront. There are alternatives, and we discussed a few.

Not so much huddling together for warmth as to be able to hear each other's voices. But yeah, probably for warmth as well.

Liz Ritter made a rare find towards the end of the second meeting--a piece of 'found art', crafted and left for whoever might want it by local artist Konstantin Bokov.

A good omen, we hope. And a positive meeting, overall. The parks people were certainly willing to listen, and gave us a lot of time to get our points across (not all scoping meetings are so loosely structured, but of course many are far better-attended). We're very guardedly hopeful that some changes we believe would be harmful to the park and many of its most faithful visitors can be avoided, or at least mitigated.

The proposed kayak lockers by the dog beach seem to have been scrapped. As I've said in the past, we've got nothing against kayakers using the beach, but it's just not a very good idea to be storing kayaks down there. There was also a chance of some kind of children's recreation area over by the beach, but the prevailing mood seems to be to leave that pleasant grassy tree-lined area alone--there is no possible way its loveliness could be improved upon, and we were happy to learn the parks people mainly felt the same way. We were also rather pleased to hear some of the parks people actually refer to our dog beach as a dog beach--not exclusively, of course. But that's perfectly all right--our dogs don't want to exclude anybody from their beach. Not their style at all.

It's still far from a sure thing there'll be any changes--in the current economic climate, the money now allocated to North Manhattan parks improvements could just go away for a while--but it's also possible that the Obama stimulus package could lead to an expanded PlanNYC--nobody really knows, and this uncertainty, in no small part, motivated the hasty convening of this scoping meeting. If Phase I improvements go ahead as scheduled, we will certainly have large areas of the park closed off for significant periods of time in the coming year. As long as we're not shut out afterwards, we can deal. We're not enemies of change--just bad change. We hope to see good changes in the coming year, and not just in our local parks.

PlanNYC Scoping Meeting for Fort Washington Park--Monday, December 22nd.

2008-12-15T23:16:00.003-05:00

I've talked here in the past about the Parks Department's plans for Fort Washington Park. Not all of them are necessarily bad, not all of them are necessarily that necessary, and some have the potential of making the park a less friendly place for walkers, dogs, and of course walkers with dogs.

Liz Ritter, who chairs the Parks and Cultural Affairs Committee for Community Board 12, forwarded this email to Andrew Engelhard today, almost immediately after receiving it. After months of delays, with almost no advance notice, and at what must be the most inconvenient time of year they could have possibly chosen, the Parks Department has scheduled the one meeting concerned members of the public could effectively advocate for a balanced improvements plan that would benefit all park users, not just specific groups.

Monday morning, three days before Christmas.

Sent: Monday, December 15, 2008 4:17 PM
Subject: site scope meetings Fort Washington and Riverside Parks

When: Monday, December 22, 2008 10:00 AM-11:00 AM (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada).

Where: see below

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following site scope meetings have been set up to discuss the Fort Washington Park and Riverside Park renovations. Please join us for any areas that you are concerned about.

Thank you,

Bob Redmond

212-408-0218

1. 10:00 a.m. meet at 158th Street & the Hudson River to discuss: renovations from 155th to 168th Streets.

2. 11:30 a.m. meet at 172nd at the restrooms immediately south of the tennis courts to discuss triangular area, mostly south of the GWB foundation and adjacent pedestrian paths.

3. 3:00 p.m. meet at 145th Street and the Hudson River outside of the elevator to the State Park to discuss 145th to 151st, new ball field, realignment of pedestrian paths and greenway and double alee work.

One way or another, some of us will be at that meeting. But it's not impossible it could be rescheduled. Please email Liz Ritter, thanking her for her timely notification, and urging her to try and persuade the powers that be that this is an undemocratic end run around public input, which is one of the specific purposes of a scoping meeting--it is at these very meetings that the plans for changes take concrete form, and once the scoping meeting has been held, it becomes almost impossible to alter the plan in any significant way. And email Jennifer Hoppa, asking her to use her influence to get the meeting put forward to a later date, well after the December holiday period.

Liz Ritter: lizbear@vzavenue.net

Jennifer Hoppa: jennifer.hoppa@parks.nyc.gov

There'll be more on this subject in the near future, you can be sure. But I just wanted to get the word out ASAP. Sheesh--and I thought Pearl Harbor Day was last week.

Rocky Run Regulars: Fifer, Rocko, and Rocky too.

2008-12-08T14:50:00.001-05:00

Fifer has been coming to the Rocky Run for a while now, and being a Feist, he takes the 'run' part very literally.

Trying to photograph a moving dog in poor light is never going to yield the best results--and particularly a Feist. But these pictures give you some idea of Fifer's normal habits.

He also likes to make friends with other dogs. Probably not a good idea to try and introduce him to any squirrels, though.

I hadn't met Rocky before--Rocky, did you know this dog run is named after a dog with the same name as you?

Rocko's name and lineage are similar, but he's been coming to the run for a long time now. Classic red-nosed pit, and as friendly as they come--which is saying something.

Two big powerful energetic young unneutered male pit bulls in the same dog run--neither so much as growled, at each other or anyone else. If they were all bred and socialized like this, we would hear a lot fewer horror stories about pit bulls. But I'm afraid the horror stories will keep right on coming.

No need for Rocko to worry, though. Life's a ball, when your people love you.