Traveling With Dogs: The Camping Trip from Hell; Dogs and Beaches Don't Mix

(Continued from last post)

With all dogs now safely contained in the van, we could finally sit down to breakfast, which of course by this time had gone stone cold. We ate it anyway having built up quite an appetite during the morning’s excitement. With breakfast finished and the camp site tidy, the kids run off to change into bathing suits and grab towels and beach toys. I am gathering together a picnic lunch and packing the cooler, my friend is busy unhitching the tent trailer from the van for the drive to the beach. Neither one of us remembers to pick up the dog dishes which still contain a few scraps of kibble, and place them in the tent trailer. Everything seems to be going smoothly and I begin to think that we may actually get through the day without any more excitement. I couldn’t be more wrong!

I look up and see my friends six year old heading for the van. Before I can say “wait for us” he throws open the sliding side door and all four dogs burst from the back of the van. We are camping in Algonquin park in Ontario’s north, and there are some very strict rules about keeping your dog on a leash at all times, and here we have four dogs running around the campground sans leash! We of course drop everything and give chase. If you are old enough to remember the Keystone Kops then you can well visualize the chase. People at campsites around us are just getting ready for their day. Some are having breakfast others are relaxing with coffee, some like us, are getting ready for a beach trip. Off to my left I spot the wolf hound cross Brindle as she runs through a campsite snatching a piece of bacon out of a child’s hand on her way through. I make a grab for her and end up with a fistful of fur flat on my back on the ground. Off to my right my friend is wrestling with his 120lb. yellow lab Nelly and trying to get her under control and back into the van. His seventeen year old daughter has a hold of my dog Gabrielle, and has managed to put her back in the van without releasing the 120lb. lab. I finally get a hold of and wrangle Brindle to the front door of the van and manage to get her in and slam the door shut before the others can escape. My eight year old daughter has managed to get a hold of blind lab Bucky, and now asks me to put him in the van so she doesn’t let the others out again by accident. The dogs are finally back where they should be, but now we are faced with the task of putting four kids in a van full of dogs who want out.

We decide that the 17 year old should get in through one of the front doors and block the dogs from getting into the front seat. We then let the other children in one at a time and the seventeen year old helps to get them seated. Miraculously this works without incident, and we are off to the beach. “Okay” I think to myself, “maybe this won’t be so bad after all.” We park the van and before I can turn around and say “okay, everyone sit tight until we get the dogs out and tied up,” the three year old, excited about playing on the beach throws open the door and suddenly the quiet peaceful beach front is invaded by off leash dogs who head straight for the water! And we are off again chasing down dogs. The second chase goes much the same as the first, us leaping to catch dogs who just manage to escape our reach as we land face down in the sand. The seventeen year old has had the presence of mind to secure the tie downs into the ground so we can secure the dogs once we finally get a hold of them. One by one we manage to catch and tie up the dogs, by the time this is accomplished we are hot and tired and out of energy, and it is all we can do to flop on the beach on our towels and try to catch our breath.

The rest of the day at the beach passes without incident, and we manage to pack up the van just before dinner to head back to the camp site. Remember those dog dishes we forgot to pick up before we left? They have attracted a flock of birds, and as we pull into our campsite upon our return from the beach all we can see is birds. They are everywhere! They are perched on the top of the tent and tent trailer, they fill the trees surrounding our campsite, and cover the ground. It is at about this time I fervently start wishing the van had no windows, the dogs have spotted the birds, and they are going crazy in the back of the van. We now have to find a way to get the kids and ourselves out of the van without the dogs escaping so we can chase the birds out of the campsite. We manage to do so, and one by one take the dogs out of the van and crate them. It is now time to prepare dinner, which we also manage to do without incident. After dinner we will have a campfire and the kids will roast marshmallows, standard camping stuff right? Ah, but remember, this is us and four dogs in Algonquin park, we are at the end of our second day, and we have already proven Murphy’s law more than once. There is nothing “standard” about this camping trip. To find out what happens next check back tomorrow for the next chapter:

Traveling with Dogs: The Camping Trip from Hell; Campfire Dogs

Travelling With Dogs: The Camping Trip from Hell; The Trip to the Campsite & Setting Up Camp

N.B: It became clear to me as I was writing this story that the entire story would take far too long to read in one blog posting, therefore the story is being broken down into chapters. As you are reading this one I am writing the next so check back tomorrow for the next chapter. 

Years ago when I was still a single Mom and only had one dog, a friend (who was also a single parent) and I decided to combine finances and take our kids on a week long summer camping trip. We made our reservations, packed our bags, fixed up his van and hooked up the tent trailer. We then loaded his two sons and one daughter and my daughter into the van. All that was left was to load in the dogs. Now I already mentioned that this was way back when I only had one dog, so you are probably thinking okay so no big deal, a couple of dogs and you’re on your way. If that were the case this would not have been the camping trip from hell.

My friend had three dogs, and they were not small ones! So what we were standing there realizing as we were looking at this van full of children was, “where the heck are we going to put all these dogs?” Packed into the tent trailer were a few crates for night sleeping containment of the dogs, and an 18 kg. bag of dog food, as well as dishes and toys and chew bones and the  like for four dogs. We couldn’t afford to kennel these dogs, and we couldn’t get to their things to leave them with friends without totally unpacking the tent trailer. They had to come with us, so into the van they went.

We set off on the two hour drive to the campground we had booked. We hadn’t gone a country mile when from the back seat we heard the three year old scream and begin to cry. I looked back (my friend was driving) into the back seat to see 120lb. Yellow lab Nelly Standing on the three year olds lap. The little boy was screaming and crying as his 17 year old sister attempted to get the dog back onto the floor. At the same  time from the third row seat where my eight year old daughter and my friends six year old son were sitting I heard “Ow! Let go of my ponytail!” ,”you pinched me first!”  “Oh this is going to be a great trip!” was my sarcastic thought.

About an hour into the trip we were thinking we needed a refreshment and bathroom break for everyone, dogs included. Somewhere in the back a dog (probably mine) vomited on the floor, this made the decision and we pulled into the next rest stop we came to. 

It was decided I would take the younger children into the washrooms, and my friend and his 17 year old daughter would walk the dogs. Off I went, and dealing with children who needed to go to the bathroom, had no problems. When I returned with children and refreshments in hand, I was confronted by a scene that made me think “Wonderful! I’ve been dropped into a bad G-rated camping comedy!”

My friend, always the ego-maniac (he was a fire-fighter who thought he could handle anything) had decided to attempt to walk all three of his dogs at the same time! Now these were country dogs who had never been leash trained, and I think I previously mentioned that one weighed 120lbs. What I haven’t told you is that another was a 100lb. blind lab, and the third was a young wolf-hound cross who had no real training. The site that confronted me when I came out of the building was of my friend being dragged across the parking lot on his back as three dogs went their own way. I helped his daughter put my dog back in the van with the kids, and we set out to corral the other three and rescue my battered and bruised friend. We hadn’t even made it to the campsite and I was already pulling out the first aid kit! The second half of the trip went pretty much the same, but we finally reached the campsite.

Plans were for myself and the two girls to bunk down in the tent trailer with two of the dogs. He, and the boys would sleep in the tent with the other two.  This would have been fine in theory, had it not been for the good old Algonquin weather gods who saw fit to flood or campsite with a storm in the middle of that first night. About two in the morning we awakened by a pounding on the trailer door. We opened it to find three very wet humans and two soaking wet dogs. Seems the tent they had all been sleeping in now had six inches of water floating in the bottom of it and was unusable for at least the rest of the night. We packed everyone into the tent trailer dogs included and slept the rest of the night feeling much as a sardine must feel once packed in its can.

The rest of the night was peaceful despite the crowding. The next morning dawned bright and sunny. We got up got the kids dressed, and started to prepare breakfast. The dogs had to be walked as Algonquin park has some very strict leash laws. The four children decided to walk the four dogs. Great in theory, not so good in practice. My 60lb. 8 year old daughter decided for some reason we will never know, that she was going to walk the biggest dog we had brought with us. Nelly the 120lb. yellow lab. This would also have been fine in theory were it not for the fact that just as my daughter was passing the river that ran close to our campsite, Nelly saw a squirrel..

When a 120lb. dog decides it wants to chase a squirrel there is no way they are just going to let it go. When a 60lb. child is the one walking that dog you just know the results are going to be disastrous. The squirrel saw the dog at about the same time the dog decided she wanted squirrel for breakfast. The squirrel took off running in the direction of the river, Nelly hot on her heals with my poor daughter hanging on to the leash for dear life and being dragged behind. Right into the river they went, me running along behind screaming at my daughter to let go of the leash, which she finally did. My friends 17 year old daughter took my daughter back to the campsite to get her dry clothing and bandage a few small cuts and scrapes. I set off in search of the dog who was still chasing the squirrel leash trailing behind her. I finally caught up to the dog when she treed the squirrel and was able to wrestle her back to the campsite and put her in the van with the other dogs for the ride to the beach. It was the morning of the first full day and already I had silently vowed to never go camping with this many dogs again! Ever! Six more days to go and I was already wondering what else could possibly happen. I had no time to think about that now, we had promised the kids a beach trip and it was time to go.

To be continued…Next Segment – Travelling with Dogs: The Camping Trip From Hell; Dogs & Beaches Don’t Mix!

Traveling With Dogs: Creative Use of Seatbelts

 As most of you that know me are aware, I have been active in dog rescue for over twenty years. In that time I have been required to move animals from place to place in my own personal vehicle. I find that I get paranoid when there is a dog in my car that is free to be thrown about should I stop suddenly. I also do not want them to be thrown from the vehicle in an accident or escape out the window injured after the fact. Therefore I tend to use the seats and seatbelts in our station wagon in a creative manner. For example, yesterday my daughter who had been up visiting with us for the week from Toronto needed to be taken home with her dog Tia (can you believe there were 9 dogs here all last week and our neighbors were none the wiser? We have good dogs!)

My daughter is 18 and needs to retake her G2 driving test for the third time so we decided to make the trip from Barrie to Toronto down back roads so she could get in some practice driving. So with my daughter driving, my husband navigating (sans pre-plotted route and flying by the seat of his pants I might add) and I sitting in the back seat (where I never travel) with the dog, we set out for Toronto.

Tia a three year old mixed breed (really mixed, even the vet hasn't a clue, but she's a cutie) with short little legs and a nervous disposition, does not like the car on a good day when an experienced driver is at the wheel. You can well imagine her reaction to a hesitant teen driver just getting her license was much worse. So here I am, my husband has thoughtfully put both back windows down, kind of him and I love him for it, but there is just one problem.

My daughter is driving, my husband is trying to figure out where the heck we are going, the dog just wants out of the car and no one but me has realized the windows are open too far! The window controls are of course locked from the front of the car for the safety of the traveling dog, so I can not close the windows. The dog's leash, which my daughter has removed and thrown in the cargo area with her oversized purse and the other detritus teenagers carry around with them when they come home from college for the week has obviously found some here before never known hiding spot in which to take up residence. So I grab the dog by the collar right before we come to a stop sign and she tries to go out the window.

Of course before I can say wait a minute I have to find the leash, we are off again so I am left hanging onto the dog by the collar for the next 20 miles or so while I wait for somewhere my daughter can safely pull in and stop (see the trouble with those back roads and a teen driver now? hehehe) Tia is the type of dog who never sits still in the car , so I now find myself being yanked all over the back seat of the car while she roams at will. She is also an oddly shaped little dog with the legs of a bassett hound and the body of a full sized lab, so balance in a moving vehicle is not her strong point. The two people in the front of the car are of course still blissfully ignorant to what is going on behind them as I try to prevent the dog from heading for the too open windows.

So when we finally stop I assess the situation, fold down the seat clip the lap belt over top of it and secure the dogs leash (which I have searched for and found with some cursing and swearing involved,) and tie it off short enough for the dog to be able to move about as far as the back cargo area, but not to go out the window, which I have know made sure is only open the right amount for the dog to stick her head out of, and not her entire body. I then put a harness (which has also been miraculously pulled from hiding somewhere in the vast reaches of the cargo area) on the dog clip the leash onto it and we are off again. Dog is all secure, and I can stop worrying she is going to fall out the window and start worrying about the fact that my daughter with the learners permit is driving. That is of course when Tia the dog who never sits still in the car,decides to lay down in my lap for the rest of the trip.

Woofstock 2010 Here We Come!

Woofstock 2010 is happening this weekend. The poodles are excited because this year they have been chosen to go to Woofstock and represent the Perry Street Dogs. Everydog whose anydog will be there, there will be treats and lots of new friends to meet.

Last year this little bulldog dressed in her best. We met and photographed many dogs, and met many new friends.

Sometimes we were not even sure what breed a dog was,  we saw things we had never seen before!

Dogs make friends, and everything is peaceful!

You have never seen anything like it! Imagine! Hundreds of dog lovers and their furry companions, all in one place? Vendors sell everything you could possibly want for your canine companion, and some things you didn’t even know existed! You should join us this year! Downtown Toronto, this weekend! We will take over the streets of Toronto near the St. Lawrence Market, and have a dog party. Bring your furry friend, (no cats please) shop for a new collar, and see what new treats and foods there are available. Your dog will take home a goody bag of samples, and you will have a great day watching the competitions, (your dog can be a competitor) and there are always great photo ops! If you are a dog lover living in Ontario Woofstock is the place to be this weekend.

Going to Woofstock? Look for Pebbles  and Hercules in their stroller. They as I already mentioned have been chosen to represent the Perry Street Dogs at Woofstock this year. If you want more information about what Woofstock has to offer you can view the website here:

http://www.woofstock.ca/ini.html

 Hope to see you there!

Breeders Need Not Apply

I had a Bell Canada tech in today to fix my phones. Not surprising, it happens. However, in the course of talking with him while he worked it came out that I do dog rescue. When I mentioned looking for a home for our purebred Shih Tzu rescue Diva, his face lit up. Not because he liked ShihTzu's or because he wanted to adopt, but because he thought he had solved a problem for me. He knew a breeder who would be happy to take Diva off our hands seeing as she was a purebred and all. That is when I informed him that Diva is fixed, and that under no circumstances would I consider adopting her out to a breeder even if she were not. He seemed puzzled by this, saying , "but I can find her a home, and then she won't be in your way anymore." It was then that I informed him that NO dog or cat leaves my house unfixed, and breeders need not apply, because I never have nor will I ever allow a breeder to adopt one of my rescues. I do not condone Backyard breeding, and never will. I have spent far too much time over the past twenty years cleaning up the messes that BYB's leave behind in their quest to make a fast buck. Besides I took these dogs in to protect them and give them a better chance at life. That better chance does not include being forced to pop out puppies litter after litter, that would not be an acceptable life for any of them. As far as I am concerned it is not an acceptable life for any dog or cat.

As I said, my phone tech looked puzzled by this concept. So for those of you who are puzzled right along with him let me explain dog rescue in a manner in which you can understand. Dogs come to me because they were strayed, abused or abandoned by their owners, or rescued in puppy mill raids. When they get here they are damaged by the trauma they have suffered at the hands of humans. They are shut down and trust no one, sometimes not even other dogs. In this state they are pretty much unadoptable. But you have heard me say before that there is no such thing as an unadoptable dog. I work hard, sometimes for months on end to rehabilitate them and teach them to live in the average home with the average family. I also assess the needs of the dog to determine what their perfect family dynamic would be. (i.e; can they live with other dogs, cats, children?) At no time do I ever look at a rescue purebred or otherwise and say "we need to find a breeder who will make you pop out puppies until you are too old to do so anymore."

While all my dogs leave here fixed and incapable of breeding, it is especially important for any small breed purebreds that may come through our compound. People see these popular little dogs as money makers, and the only way to find perfect loving forever homes for them is to ensure they no longer have the ability to be bred. We who rescue dogs do not do so just to move them around from place to place, and we are not just looking for any home that will take them in, we are looking for the home that will treat them like the beloved pets they are. We are looking for the home that will give them the second chance at life they missed the first time around. Placing a purebred rescue with a breeder would be abusive to the dog, and I am in the business of stopping and preventing abuse, not giving it a helping hand.

It is not enough just to find a place for a dog, we must find the right place, the place that they will be well loved and cared for until the end of their natural life.