United road dogs of America

This one is an old shot of Lucky and James taken in 2005. Lucky isn't with us anymore but James is (last I heard anyway).

One of my very own New Year's resolutions (this time around) is to locate and photograph as many carny dogs as possible over the next year. In years past I haven't made the dogs a priority, focusing instead on the owners and their lifestyles but it's always fun to change it up a little and the fact is, for a lot of carnival workers/showmen, just like the rest of us, their dog is family. In many cases, maybe more so because on a carnival lot, you can't just let your dog out in the back yard and forget about it. You have to be engaged and thinking of the dog's welfare twenty-four hours a day or things can go downhill fast. I've known a few guys that backed over their own dogs with a truck or left them tied up too close to one of those oh-so-delectable power lines. Talk about having your day ruined..

Many of you already know, there are all variety of dogs that travel with the carnival. Owners too. Some are spoiled rotten and some fend for themselves. They can be overfed, underfed, silly, angry, bored, and happy; happy to be bored, neurotic, athletic, entertainers. There are thoroughbreds and mutts and everything in between. As I've said before though, they're generally the most social dogs you'll ever meet. They have friends galore.

Having said that, I'm off to make them their very own Facebook Page. Please go over for a visit and "Like" it (them) and pass the link along to anyone you think might also like to see some magnificent road dogs from time to time. If you are one of those special people who actually owns a carny dog, we'd love to have you post a photo on the page as well and tell us in the caption a little bit about your dog. You never know, Stella and I might very well show up and photograph your best friend for next year's Carny Dog calendar!

Note: The calendars arrived last night and they are brilliant. My arm is cramping from patting myself on the back over it. In case anyone wonders, they start with February and go through next January. That way when you forget to get a new one next year, you'll still have an extra month of knowing what day it is ;-) Giveaway rules are forthcoming.

The Exception

The rule in our house is dogs don't sleep in the bed. It works out great because Stella knows that occasionally I'll invite her to lie on my bed during the day or under certain circumstances but when night falls, her bed is hers.

When we went to Baltimore and Atlantic City last month I didn't even take her bed along with us so all bets were off and we shared the bed. One day we hiked (not very far, I think it was a mile and a half) up to the home of Edgar Allen Poe. It was hot as Hell and included buses, construction, big noise and hordes of people going to and from work, not to mention at some point, all the accoutrements of ghetto sidewalks (broken glass, syringes, beer cans, used condoms and the like). I doubt Stella even noticed any of this but without so much as a band-aid on me, I certainly did. It was a tough three miles brightened only by the fact that we made it back without injury or dognapping. I don't know how many of you (goofy-ass white women) have strolled through the ghetto lately with your pit bull but the locals, though extremely friendly, had a look of disbelief on their faces usually reserved for things like mirages - or ghosts. Had it not been for the dog, I would've spent a lot more time up there and made pictures of them all but it was clear early on that we were in dog fighting country. I felt at the time, it was best to keep moving so we pressed on. Unfortunately, the Poe House was closed when we finally got there but I did take a photo of it. I'll put it in the next post.

When we returned to the hotel I left Stella for a bit to go and get something to eat. I made a point of getting back as soon as possible thinking she'd be pacing the floor and feeling abandoned in this new strange place.

Uh - negative. When I returned this (above) is how I found her. She didn't even notice I was gone.

On the morning of our departure we took a vote and decided that the beds in Heaven couldn't possibly be any better than the ones at Hotel Monaco.

Stella with Old Barney

We caught up with a different incarnation of "Old Barney" in Long Beach Island, New Jersey. Someone sent (our) Barney a postcard once with a picture of this lighthouse on it and since Stella and I were looking for a beach it seemed like the thing to do. Stella discovered horseshoe crabs on the beach there. She tried to get it to move and when nothing happened she uh.. relieved herself on it.

Canine tourism

I still have a few posts from Baltimore (and beyond). Locals won't be too impressed by the tourist type pictures but it was such a treat to be able to walk a few blocks to the harbor from where we stayed that I did it repeatedly. It was actually pretty sweet, as tourist districts go. They seemed to have all the right ingredients: music, food, water, boat rides, a fountain for the kids to play in, dragon boats to pedal (I wanted to take Stella out on one of them (what a photo op that would've been) but the line was too long and I doubt she would've been allowed anyway. It's funny but of everything in and around the harbor, those were what fascinated her most.



On the far side, just below Federal Hill there was a carousel with dogs and other animals on it as well. I took a photo of it and realized that for the first time in nineteen years, the fair was setting up back home in Nashville and I wasn't there. Good thing we were in Baltimore or I might have been missing it a lot more.

Federal Hill overlooks the harbor and it's a great view too. We hung out up there while we waited for the tour boat to arrive. Again, Watermark Cruises was the only tour I could find that would let Stella ride along. It was a forty-five minute cruise for fifteen bucks. For a dog that can be kind of skiddish on a slick surface, she did an amazing job of climbing the steps between decks. I wasn't the only one stunned by her willingness to descend the nearly vertical steps. We never made it to Little Italy and I'm really sorry about that. Well okay, we did do a drive-by - but it'll have to wait until the next visit if there ever is one.

The Ace of Crab Cakes

It was just over a week ago that Stella and I had the good fortune to meet up with Ohmidog's John Woestendiek and his handsome and lovable dog Ace. Having read John's blog for the last couple of years, I knew he and Ace had gone on a pilgrimage of their own but I decided to send him an e-mail anyway and ask if he knew where I could go to find reasonably priced crab cakes. That e-mail alone might have been the best decision I made all week. As it happened, he was not in Alabama or Santa Fe but right there in Baltimore, taking a little break.

John suggested we meet at Riverside Park. Stella and I walked the nearly two miles from the hotel through Baltimore's Federal Hill neighborhood (a visual treat) and I called him when we got within shouting distance. I hadn't actually seen John before in person, but I'd seen Ace plenty of times on the blog. They came over the hill like a couple of old friends and it didn't take long to realize that the two of them were as much a part of the neighborhood as the park itself. Everyone from homeless guys to moms pulling wagon-loads of kids knew them well enough to stop and talk, and they did. Humans called out to Ace from a distance. Stella wasn't exactly thrilled that nearly all the dogs were off leash except her but she seemed to enjoy being part of a scene where there were almost as many dogs as humans. Thankfully, she appeared to take her cues in the park from Ace who was obviously one of the more well-adjusted dogs we've encountered.

We moved on to a nearby bar, Idle Hour for some human refreshment, where Ace and Stella were welcome to cool off and have a snooze, inside the bar. Stella had ants in her pants most of the time but everyone there was pretty relaxed about the whole thing and (attention bar owners:) having the dogs along made the beer taste better.

After the brew, we ditched the mutts at the home of a rather large feline named Mister and moved on to Captain Larry's for the crab cakes and fish tacos. If it had ended right there it would've been worth driving all 1930 miles for but it didn't. There were leftover birthday brownies and mint chocolate chip ice cream to be had at the home of a real live Vanderbilt graduate and her carny-loving husband. It is a true friend who will let a man show up with a complete stranger, at nine-thirty at night for dessert. Seriously, it made me want to move.

That said, our timing was excellent as man and dog have now headed to Philadelphia with plans to begin again in Maine, and spend the next three months tracing the path of John Steinbeck and his dog Charley across the northern portion of the U.S. They're in the market for a loaner R.V. by the way, and if the folks at Coachmen ever find out about the two of them, I've not doubt they'll get one. I can't imagine an RV manufacturer finding a better entré to a world filled with dog loving travelers than John and Ace.

In case anyone missed it, here's a perfectly wonderful post from John, about our trip east.

Minding the Seagulls

We went down the to Inner Harbor (I'm assuming that's capitalized?) this morning and waited for the Watermark (water taxi) to arrive. They're kind enough to allow pets on board and they gave us a nice forty-five minute tour of the harbor which Stella seemed to enjoy, although it was 11am and unusually hot for Baltimore this time of year. I took this photo at the slip before the boat arrived, mostly because of the Seadog (yellow watercraft) behind her. It didn't take much sitting out there before the seagulls started buzzing us. Sorry I didn't have a video camera along when her head started following them in circles.

Now that I've almost managed to get my bearings - it's nearing time to leave but I feel very lucky to have run upon one of Baltimore's very own dog lovers. He's agreed to lead us on to affordable crab cakes and the real Baltimore, before the day is through. Then I'll tell you about my own little adventure yesterday. Stella and I are both still recovering from that one.

Charm City

Dorothy, we're not in Kansas anymore.... With all due respect to Tom Bodett and that Motel 6 we stayed at in Virginia, we got to Baltimore and it's like we won the lottery. Call me Eloise, I want to live here. Stella is obviously a big city girl in disguise too. She cuts a rug on city streets and elevators, in alleys and swanky hotels. She's already gotten to know the bellmen and exactly where that treat bowl is in the lobby. Check it out, it has her name on it. These people clearly have our number.

We got a spectacular deal online at the Hotel Monaco, in fact it was so good I decided to stay in Baltimore an extra day. So far (it's been a whopping 24 hrs.) it's been a fabulous experience. More later. But not before crab cakes and a water taxi ride around the inner harbor.

p.s. There's Barney in the chair. We went to the cemetery this morning, found his mother's grave, and scattered most of his ashes there. I'm in love with Baltimore already. Little Italy has our name all over it. Also, I recommend traveling on the Sunday and Monday of Labor Day weekend. It was truly the easiest drive ever. The only drawback was the Beltway which is absolutely LAWLESS. Those of you who live in the Baltimore/Washington area already know this but you people who live in oh... say Nashville, Tennessee - don't know the first thing about traffic problems. That last forty miles getting here was the only rough part of the trip. Stella rode it in the floorboard of the back seat.

Packing Heavy

It's funny how dogs behave when they know somethings going on. In Stella's case all I really have to do is pull the crate out of the corner a couple of inches and as far as she's concerned - it's on. She wasn't totally sure she was invited until about seven thirty this morning when I picked up the leash. It seems I read a similar story over at Stumpy's recently. Our trip is much shorter than hers but it does involve swimming - eventually. My neighbor asked the other day when we were coming back. When I hesitated, she wisely turned it into a question: "You are coming back?" I had to give it some thought because you know - it does involve an actual beach. I'm still mulling it over.

Stella and I are on the way to Baltimore, Maryland and Barney's riding shotgun. I'm not sure how often we'll have internet access but I'll try to update periodically. For example, I forgot to specifically request a room with access here at our first stop (Motel 6) so at the moment, we're sitting in the parking lot at Days Inn bootlegging their wi-fi. (note: I just lost this entire post and didn't have enough battery left to rewrite the thing, ack!) Also, if Carny Dog hasn't been updated you might want to try us over at my other blog. Just now, it looks pretty depressing but there's fun in our future because Barney would've wanted it that way.

p.s. In the last couple of days Stella has developed a mean cold (I'm hoping that's what it is anyway). Her fabulous pink nose is stuffy and extremely raw. Last night she barely slept. I've promised her that the salt air will cure it as it cures most things (achy bones, bad attitudes) but if anyone has any miraculous home remedies I'd love to hear it.

p.s.s. Night before last I dreamed I was sitting on a toilet (sorry) and the shower curtain fell down. In the tub there was a full grown male lion. Named Taffy.

Once again, who needs fiction?

Litter Patrol

I've been fantasizing about teaching Stella to do smash and grabs on the neighbor's grills around seven in the evenings. I'm thinking she could just tear off into the yard, grab the short ribs, and be back at my side trotting along - like nothing happened. We might have to work on the "drop it" part of that routine.

I don't have anything to write about - busy cleaning up and litter training kitties. Stella and the mama cat hung out in the same room today for a little while. Gigi is boycotting the entire house. She stayed out two nights in a row. Bad cat.

Here's a video I shot with a camera purchased at Big Lots. There are some dead spots in it and the music ends abruptly but otherwise it has a pretty high cute factor.



I mentioned in the last post that I was planning a trip to Baltimore. It's more than that really.

Some of you may remember my/our old friend Barney. A cheerleader and patron, Barney was one of Stella's biggest fans (mine too). Hopefully this won't horrify anyone (beyond my mother) but when he died this last March, I had him cremated and he's now spent an entire summer as the centerpiece on my tiny seldom-used kitchen table. Not a terribly exciting place to be, granted; but then Barney needed somewhere to take a little break. He hasn't had a drink now for going on five months.

So here's the good part. Stella and I are driving Barney home to Baltimore in a couple of weeks. I expect it'll be mostly a grand adventure. Our itinerary is already looking pretty sweet and barring some technological catastrophe, you all are welcome to come along with us. I'll fill you in on the details as the time gets closer. Meanwhile, there's a nice woman at the Nashville Cat Rescue who is actively trying to find us a foster home for the cats until our return, whereupon I will officially become a foster mom myself. Actually thinking about it now, I should have a PhD in that by now. Not exactly what I had hoped for but the safest way I can think of to save an entire family of felines from the needle. Have a great Tuesday. Meow.

Weekend escapade

There are a couple of ways to get Stella's undivided attention. One of those ways involves messing with her personal stuff. It didn't take long for her to figure out that if I take her crate apart, it's something serious. While I'm sure there were visions of corn dogs dancing in her head it turned out, we had a party invitation from my old friend Marian and Stella's soon-to-be friend Belle. This involved a three hour drive from Nashville to Knoxville and an overnight stay.

When we arrived, we all met up in the driveway for introductions. I'm happy to report that initially, things went well. We'll revisit that word, "initially" in a little while. Stella was excited but well-behaved and Belle being the smaller of the two, was a welcoming (and tolerant) hostess. I say tolerant because once inside, Stella managed to round up and begin chewing on every single toy in the house. Rather than engage in some unladylike physical confrontation, Belle chose the high road and raided Stella's food supply - knocking back two zip-lock protected servings in under five minutes. Her execution was brilliant.

The following morning we put both dogs into the back yard hoping they might play together. I should add, we don't have a fenced in yard so Stella's never been left outside alone before. She's not clear on what to do so she spent much of the next hour crying at the gate and feeling abandoned by her pack which (technically) she was. After breakfast, we decided to bring the dogs back in and go for a walk at a nearby greenway but when we went outside we realized that Stella had orchestrated some type of escape. Before I had a chance to be thoroughly traumatized by this little piece of news, Stella came barreling around the side of the house to reunite our pack. Belle meanwhile, romped around the neighborhood for the next hour smelling stuff, hunting squirrels and all manner of hound dog activity. An hour I spent, mostly thanking God that my own dog hadn't run off in a strange city.

Here's a photo of Stella and her new friend Belle looking slightly pitiful but very well-lit, prior to their offense. Saturday was National Pitbull Awareness Day. We missed the parade (if there was one) but feel free to help us spread the word; Pitbulls are precocious and grand.

The great stick hunter

Stella gave us a big scare last week, developing a pretty mean limp in one of her rebuilt knees. Turned out it was nothing. She just tweaked it running like a maniac at the fairgrounds. We celebrated by going on a stick hunt at the creek.

Over the weekend, we took a drive to friend Beverly's house for a couple of days of rest and relaxation. Stella got to spend some time at the farm with a couple of senior dogs she met last year. The two of them thankfully, managed to put up with her nonsense all weekend, without incident. One (Smiley) temporarily commandeered her bed, which was pretty funny, but she'd already fallen in love with him by then and didn't even care.



This week the state fair gets busy setting up. It opens on Friday. Stella and I have been over there for the last two days poking around and pretending to direct traffic. Posting here will be spotty for the next few days while they get everything situated, then with some luck, there'll be a whole new crop of road dogs to visit with on this page. Anyone who's a fan of the carnival itself is welcome to check in over at Cliffhanger. That's where I post most of the shots that are non-dog related.

First Dip

I love telling the story about the first time Stella went swimming.

She was about three-and-a-half months old when we went to South Carolina. After a visit with our good friends Roger and Mamie, we went on to Folly Beach for a day and I don't think Stella had ever seen a beach or an ocean so I was pretty excited about the whole thing. I parked the car and as we came out onto the beach, a look came over Stella's face like I hadn't seen before or since (except maybe at the dog park). It was like we'd landed at Disney World and for the next three hours we could be seen digging up seaweed, chasing feathers, biting the foamy surf and generally mixing it up with whatever lay in our path. The only thing she didn't try was heading straight into the water. Not wanting it to be a scary experience I didn't encourage it either. She was happy enough splashing through the shallow puddles and attacking those air bubbles that rise from the wet sand.

We met dogs and people and seagulls galore. We had lunch at a restaurant with outdoor seating where Stella appointed herself the hostess and I thought I would never get the chance to eat for talking to people about how adorable she was. It was a gorgeous day.

When we made it back to the beach the tide had gone out leaving pools of standing water, a few of them so big that we had to wade through them to make our way back the mile or so, to where I'd parked the car. That's when it happened. We were wading in a pool of ocean water that dropped off rather precipitously (nearly dunking the camera bag). The water rose to my waist and suddenly Stella was forced to dog-paddle. I'll never forget the look she gave me then. Her brown eyes, filled with disbelief, were so big that when she turned to look at me for comfort, it was all I could do not to burst out laughing.

"Stella honey, are you swimming?"

About the time I said it, her feet found the sandy bottom again and she came up out of the water like a rocket. Both of us were completely covered with sand and water by that time and I had to sit down, I was laughing so hard.

In the parking lot, I chained Stella to a telephone pole and dried us both off with a towel. There was a guy there getting ready to leave on a beautiful old (Panhead) Harley. To be polite, he backed it out of its spot and warned me that it might scare the dog. I thanked him and told him that I didn't think it would. He was totally amused by my optimism and I added that she had lived the last three months on a carnival midway and I didn't think straight pipes on a Harley could compete with that. He laughed then and kick-started the bike while Stella stood there, wagging that tail of hers, and never missed a beat.

Tomato Patch

This will always be one of my favorite pictures, despite that steely gaze. Taken back at the end of September (also at the farm), we had known each other two weeks. Three if you include the week I met her at the fair. I have to say, she looks a little bit more relaxed now than she did then.

This week I've been shooting pictures on a midway that is setting up near the house here in two different locations. Stella hasn't gotten to go of course but there are a couple of carny dogs there, who may make an appearance on this page if their owners don't mind. They're totally great dogs.

Stella

"Looks like a dog out of a Mark Twain story."

She went on the road a carny dog the first three months of her life, made it through four state fairs and a variety of other spots throughout Wisconsin and Illinois. Carnival life can be really hard on a dog. Those that survive it often turn out to be some of the greatest dogs in the world though (Trish and Chi Chi come to mind).

Stella got off the road early, in Nashville and thanks to her previous owners, came to live at my house. This is her story from that point forward.