by Barb Norris
She came in and tried to calm Snowball. This worked for her as well as it had worked for Chris and me. Kate was working in the front office and the thumping and scraping were not quite as loud in there. She suggested that Snowball go with her. We agreed that this was the only option available. Snowball was put on a lead and the two of them headed up front. Snowball, however, was so distraught that the only place she wanted to be was out of the building altogether. Kate took her out for a short walk to get her mind off all the scary racket. After a few minutes, Snowball calmed down enough that she could come back into the store without totally freaking out. She stayed close to Kate in the front office for the duration.
While Snowball was out of the playroom, the remainder of the dogs kept busy. Sassy started a game of Nip and Hide with Spike, who thought this was the grandest game he’d ever played. Chris and I were both mindful of our knees. We did have to break the two up now and then, but it wasn’t too bad, considering the determination of Sassy and the size and rowdiness of Spike. Their energy levels were about as high as the noise level.
Buddy and Sheba entered into a race, which kept them busy for a fair amount of time. When the race ended, they both headed over to Chris and I, one dog each, for some affection.
About an hour and a half later, the workers left. Quiet having been restored, Kate brought Snowball back into the playroom where Sassy, Sheba, Spike, and Buddy had been playing the entire time, paying no attention at all to the noises overhead.
They warmly welcomed her back and Sheba invited her to join in a race around the room. Sounded like a good idea to Snowball and the two of them were off and running. Sassy, Spike, and Buddy were playing Tuggie. Sheba and Snowball raced around the room until Snowball got tired. Sheba came over to be petted and Snowball plopped herself down in her favorite corner to get a belly-rub.
It had been a stressful couple of hours for our Snowball. None of us had ever seen our calm and mellow den mother upset over anything. Once those scary noises were gone, though, they were totally forgotten. It was back to business as usual, and Snowball was back to normal.
Even the calmest personality can occasionally get stressed.
~ Excitement in the Small Room ~
The small playroom, about one third the size of the bigger room, was much more private. There was a door with an upper half window between the small room and the kennel area. This was the door most often used. In the back corner of the room was an emergency exit door. A double Dutch door separated the two playrooms. This provided an extra exit from either room. The top half of the double door was usually left open, which tended to open up the smaller room, primarily for the comfort of the counselors.
While there were usually anywhere from seven to twelve dogs in the big room, there were seldom more than three or four dogs in the small room on the rare occasion the small room was in use at all. Ninety-five percent of the time all the dogs were in the large playroom. Most of the small dogs who came in on a regular basis ended up having a great time in with the bigger, more active dogs. Occasionally, though, we had dogs, big and small, come in who didn’t do well with the rowdy bunch in the bigger playroom. We would put these quiet ones into the adjoining smaller playroom, where they were more comfortable.
My own sixty-pound Toby was one of these. He was old and was having trouble with both his hearing and his vision. He didn’t care much for camp and only attended a couple of times. He didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body, and he put up with being there, but he was much happier to stay home and snooze on his own bed while I was gone. There was also a large three-legged Briard who preferred the company of the calmer and less rowdy dogs.
While the smaller playroom was for the less active campers, it was not without amenities. For a little interest and to give the small room dogs something to climb on, there was a playhouse with open doors and windows and a second level that was about twenty inches high. There were several toys in this room even though these quiet campers rarely used them.
On an average day in this room, the most excitement was if all of the little ones tried to get out the door at the same time someone was coming in or going out. Even then, this rush for the door was generally more exciting for the counselors than it was for the dogs. The small room dogs were not nearly as energetic as the big room dogs, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have their own adventures.
Queenie, a Miniature Pinscher, and quite a wallflower, came to camp every now and then. She was a nervous little thing and there was no question about where she would be most comfortable.
One morning Bonnie and Clyde came in to keep Queenie company, as did Duchess and Cedric. This was a very quiet group, and I knew they wouldn’t bother Queenie. Sparky had just come in. She was a long-haired Dachshund who had the most beautiful ears ever seen on a dog. They were a very warm reddish-brown color, running to black around the edges. They were long and silky and shiny. Shoot, I would have paid Bonnie, my furry little hairdresser, big bucks if she could have colored my hair just like Sparky’s gorgeous ears.
Sparky was one feisty, but gentle, little lady. She played with the big dogs most of the time, dashing around the room, under the bridge, on top of the bridge, getting her pets whenever she could stand still, which wasn’t very often. She got along well with all the dogs. I thought she would be a good one to try to get the others in the small room to play.
Boy, did she try. Bonnie ran around with her for a few minutes. Clyde, of course, barked at this. Duchess was on guard, watching the bottom of the door, and ignored Sparky completely. Cedric watched from the second level of the playhouse. Sparky joined him and he actually returned her greeting. For the most part, though, my quiet little group ignored her. It was clear that Sparky would rather be in with the active dogs. So, she and I headed in the direction of the big room.
Before we made it to the double Dutch door, we were greeted by an apparition sailing over it. It was Casper in flying mode. Casper was aptly named. He was a white German Shepherd mix with ice-blue eyes that gave him an eerie appearance. He was a handsome dog with only one vice. He was a jumper. On the counters, over the counter, wherever he wanted to be. Now here he came, Casper the Ghost dog at his flying best. I was very happy that my little charges were along the walls or in the playhouse and not in the middle of the room. I did not want them to be landing pads for Casper.
As soon as his feet hit the floor, I zipped right over to him, not quite sure what he would do next. I also wasn’t quite sure what the little dogs would do. He sure had everyone’s attention. Casper just looked around. What he saw was a bunch of startled little dogs and one stunned counselor. The little dogs just looked at him looking around at them.
“Sorry, Casper, there will be no more flying today.”
I convinced good ol’ Casper that he really needed to go back to his own room, through the doors and not over them. He was more than happy to oblige. I’m sure we looked like a pretty boring bunch by his standards. Back to the big room he went and Sparky tagged along.
As I let the two dogs into the big playroom, I saw quite a sight. Kate was sitting on the floor and Maggie was sitting on her lap. At least I thought it was Kate. All I could see was one leg from the knee down and an arm and a hand up close to Maggie’s head. Had to be Kate. She was the only one at camp who was small enough to disappear that completely under Maggie. After some convincing, Maggie got to her feet, and Kate stood up, laughing. We all agreed that there would be no more lap-sitting for Maggie. She’s just too big and we sure couldn’t have anyone ending up squashed flatter than a fritter.
After the Kate and Maggie show, I closed both the top and bottom of the Dutch door. My little group relaxed, happy to return to doing nothing and secure in the knowledge that there would be no more big, scary dogs flying in. This had been a fairly exciting morning for the little dogs. They had taken it all in stride, though, even nervous little Queenie.
Quiet time with quiet dogs is soothing to the soul.
~ Inside Out ~
Most of the animal activity in the store was not visible from the camp area. This was a good thing because bunnies, mice, guinea pigs, and ferrets would certainly attract unwanted attention from the canine campers. The glass doors separating the store from the camp would be mobbed with very excited dogs trying to figure out how to get out there and play with all these enticing little critters. Definitely not conducive to keeping dogs calm.
I rarely went directly back to the camp area when I arrived at work. I would give the manager a shout to let her know I was in. Then I had to wish a good morning to the small furry animals, the rats and the mice. Then it was over to the birds. I checked in with the fish, the snakes, and lizards. I even took a look at the—shudder—creepy-crawly tarantulas and scorpions.
I actually liked the lizards and the snakes. Some of them had gorgeous markings. Contrary to popular opinion, they are not slimy at all. Their skin is kind of cool and dry to the touch. When I first started working in camp, I passed by a snake aquarium and inside was a freshly shed skin - whole and intact. It was such a fascinating skin that I decided my five-year-old grandson would like to see it. I asked the snake lady if I could have it. She thought it was a rather strange request but took it out and boxed it up for me. My grandson was impressed when I presented it to him. My daughter and my granddaughter, however, were not quite as thrilled.
Okay, time to ‘fess up. Animal lover that I am, I am not the world’s biggest fan of spiders, scorpions, centipedes, or millipedes. In fact, these things give me the heebie-jeebies. However, the Spider Guy who worked with the creepy things challenged me repeatedly to hold a Tarantula. He told me he would get it out of its aquarium home and put it in the palm of my hand. It took me months, but I finally worked up the courage and agreed to hold one. Was I nuts? Maybe.
I was expecting him to get out one of the giant, hairy things. You know, the kind of spider that can drag off your children and/or your Irish Wolfhound. Was that what I ended up with? No. He told me to hold out my hand, palm up and parallel to the floor. He placed this slender, skinny-legged, hairless, and plug ugly female tarantula on my hand, warning me not to drop her because she would explode and die if she fell to the floor. Was he kidding me? I didn’t know for sure, but I would try not to jerk my hand and have her fall to the floor. I didn’t like the thing, but I didn’t want her to explode. So the nasty ol’ spider took one step to get all the way across my palm and that was more than enough for me. The guy was laughing at me as he put the spider back in the tank. Then he suggested I hold a scorpion.
“Not on your life, Spider Guy.”
Being out of sight of the camp crew during this little adventure was a good thing. I knew everybody at work would hear about it, but I was glad they couldn’t see me cringing and making faces when I had that icky spider on my palm. As soon as I reached the camp I made instant use of the closest sanitizing hand cleaner dispensers.
One early morning, just inside the camp lobby, I found a chameleon. I don’t have any idea how he’d escaped his aquarium, how he’d managed to get inside the camp area, or how long he’d been there. Fortunately no dogs had come in yet, so he hadn’t been the object of canine curiosity. He had to be freezing and really did need to be in his warm aquarium. I told the lizard lady about him. I’m sure she thought I was afraid to touch him myself. Not so. I tend to have rather shaky hands, and I just didn’t want to risk hurting him if my hands took on a life of their own when I was trying to get hold of him. He was very small. Lizard lady came back and took him back to his own cozy place. I’m sure he was much more comfortable there.
The dogs did pay some attention to people passing by the window, but not much. Well, except for Maggie and Snowball who deemed it their duty to bark fiercely at everybody. This was generally a short-term activity, though, and they would go back to the gang after sufficiently scaring the bejeebers out of the folks beyond the glass.
The entire door had been left uncovered when camp first started. We discovered very quickly that passing dogs, out shopping with the family, would send the entire camp into a barking frenzy. Thankfully, the bottom half of the glass was now covered. Once in a while, one of our taller campers would spot a doggy shopper out there and go a little nuts. Most of the time the campers wouldn’t stay at the window long at all. They had better things to do.
Every now and then a shopper would hold his little dog up so he could see the camp dogs happily playing together and running around the playroom. That would create quite a stir with the campers. When this happened, one of us would step out and ask the person to take their little dog away from the window to avoid mass hysteria inside the camp. The people never took offense at this and put their dog down pretty quick. Then they would often ask questions about the camp program. We, of course, encouraged them to bring their dog in for evaluation if they thought the camp would be fun for their pet.
We saw the occasional errant Robin or Sparrow inside the store. They flitted about the store for a day or two until they eventually made their way back out the front door. Because they were small and tended to stay up high, most of the dogs didn’t even realize they were there.
Wild Mallards zipping around high and low, on the other hand, were not so easy to ignore. One fine day, a pair of them just quietly waddled into the store. They got panicky and took flight, sending the entire staff into a tizzy. A couple of the campers spotted them flying past the camp doors. They both landed just outside the doors, waddling around in plain sight of the dogs. The tizzy of the staff was greatly dwarfed by the tizzy of the dogs. Good grief.
Maggie went berserk. She was up on her back paws, front paws as high as she could get them on the window, pounding the glass and barking for all she was worth. As long as there was a duck in view, there was no way she was leaving her spot at the window. Snowball gave a couple of mighty barks, but soon lost interest.
Luckily for those of us in the playroom, the ducks decided they preferred the front of the store to the barking frenzy emanating from the camp and disappeared from view. Out of sight, out of mind definitely held true for the campers. Whew. Store staffers finally managed to scoot the ducks back outside.
The camp lobby was also the lobby for the grooming section. The camp dogs could see into the lobby and they tended to get temporarily excited when dogs came in for any reason. Once a dog had gone on into the grooming area across the lobby from camp, the campers instantly put that dog out of mind.
I was in the playroom one morning when one of the other counselors came into the room. “Hey,” she said. “Did you see the walrus in grooming?”
A walrus? Ri-i-i-ght. You would think I’d have noticed a walrus. I mean, a walrus would have been darned hard to miss. I scoffed, sure she was pulling my leg. Chris suggested I go over and take a look while she covered the playroom. Well, maybe I’d had my attention focused elsewhere. Naturally I couldn’t resist my curiosity and to grooming I went.
My goodness. There, being bathed, was a huge mountain of a dog. I had never seen a dog like this one and had no idea what kind of dog he was. He was a dark shade of grey with huge jowls and a few wrinkles in his coat. I could see why Chris had referred to him as a walrus. The person bathing him was his handler so I asked about the dog. It was a Neapolitan Mastiff who was going to enter the area dog show early the next morning, for which he had to be clean as possible. That dog was definitely impressive. I know I was certainly impressed.
Cats also came in for grooming, which did not interest the campers at all. Cats came in via carriers so the dogs never saw them. Counselors did see them. There was a gorgeous long-haired cat on the table. He was obviously not the most cooperative animal. The groomer was almost done, but asked if someone could come over and hold onto the cat so she could finish his underside. Over I went.
This was not a happy cat, and my holding his front paws to keep him still was not improving his disposition. Between the groomer working quickly and me holding onto the poor thing, that cat’s grooming was done before she cou
ld get angry enough to strike out at us. That was definitely good.
Men working on the ceiling lights were a short-lived, but major attraction. The hydraulic scaffolding they used seemed to hold some fascination for the campers. They didn’t bark. They didn’t jump on the windows. They just watched. They looked like they were wondering why these particular humans were going up and down instead of staying on the floor where humans were supposed to be. They didn’t ponder this phenomenon for long. It became boring rather quickly. So it was back to playing.
Mom or Dad coming to pick up the camper was, without a doubt, the most exciting thing that a camp dog could see through the windows. They couldn’t wait to plant a few affectionate slurps on the faces of those they most loved. The first time or two the dogs were in camp, they paid not one whit of attention to the counselor once they spotted their people. This was an important time to make use of the slip-lead. We had to pull the dogs away from Happy Pet Parent at the window. When this happened, the dogs assumed they were being dog-napped and would never see their people again. This did not make them happy.
After a few days and a suggestion from the counselors, Mom or Dad realized it was best not to grin and wave like crazy at their pooch from the far side of the window. Regular campers always seemed to sense when it was about time for their people to come. They geared up for leaving. It didn’t take long for these dogs to figure out that if they listened to the counselors, they would get to see Mom or Dad in short order even though they’d been having fun all day with their camp buddies.
