On summer camp: Tales from a summer dogyard full of youngsters
The brothers Speck! and Wocket, taken by friend Heather Richards.
Looking at the dogyard, I do headcounts sometimes: how many intact females, how many neutered males, how many dogs from the last racing team in 2020, how many leaders. But the most critical numbers: there are 24 dogs in the yard right now, 18 of them were either born here or raised from pups, and 10 of them are two year olds.
What this means is it’s a very cohesive dogyard, a dogyard that I stay in tune with, but also a dogyard full of energy and unknowns. Like most of the previous summers, I took the dogs for lots of hikes, in pairs, although sometimes a dog like Gemma or Hoss requested solo time. Jameson and Spiller were the constant bike ride companions, and Oriana, who needs to get out often, became the troop scout leader for the two pups Hutton and Norkin.
The Mahoosuc litter made it to their namesakes: Speck! to Speck! Pond, Wocket to Wocket Ledge, and Page to Page Pond. Marian, named for an 19th-century trailblazer, went to Bald Cap peak, a rocky outcropping explored by Marian the person in the 1870s, and presented in a paper to the Appalachian Mountain Club in 1878. (That hike with Marian was so meaningful, I am probably going to write another blog about it).
Jax, who jumps next to me and practically lands in my lap.
It took some time to settle the dogs into a community that worked for them. Looking back at the original dogyard lay out, about 40% of the dogs have shifted locations. Wocket got loose the first day and relocated to the house he’s at now, which was originally dedicated to Ariel—but Ariel hasn’t set foot in the yard, having spent her whole summer as a beloved house dog/ pet dog. Flora moved around a bit, after she got spayed she became a permanent fixture in the middle of the yard, first by Bruce and then moved over by Rocky and Speck, loving being part of the mix. Gemma relocated back to the girl pen, and then spent the rest of her summer sleeping under her platform, waiting for something to happen.
Probably the toughest thing was finding the right match for Bruce, as a neighbor and playmate. I first started with Skee Ball, who is a loving and playful dog, and I thought up to the task of matching her brother. After a month or two, it became apparent that Bruce, combined with Riptide, was too much for Skee: during feeding she’d be growling and snarling at Bruce and Riptide, who seemed to be ganging up on her. I remembered that Willie Jr seemed to do well with the Jersey Shore boys, as he spent the second half of the winter next to Riptide and Jameson. Willie moved next to Bruce, and Skee eventually found her way next to her brother Jameson at the front of the yard, where she’s been very happy ever since.
Over the past few months, I’ve watched Willie have a positive impact on Bruce. Bruce has always played rough and fast and hard, grabbing Loki’s tail to get his attention and barking as he launches himself violently towards his playmate. Willie, smart and patient, figured out how to stand just outside the reach of Bruce, calmly ignoring and not reacting to Bruce’s pleas to play with him. When he did engage with Bruce, it was always on his terms, and he’d leave when it got too much. Now, I watch them play gently, mouthing slowly and sometimes leaping up on their hind legs, sometimes one of them being sent into a zoomie-frenzy. Riptide watches quietly. Good boys.
Fauci in his new spot, photo by friend Heather Richards.
Midway through August, it was time to move Shucker and Fauci into the main yard. I delayed for ages, not wanting to disrupt the peace that seemed to have grown in the yard. Hutton and Norkin needed to move to the big pen, they were outgrowing the smaller chainlink pen. I took Fauci and Shucker for a walk and a swim, and then brought them on leashes into the main yard to their new houses in the middle. The boys confidently charged in, and in seconds settled into their spots. The rest of the yard accepted them pretty quickly as well. I was surprised, it can be an overwhelming experience joining the big dogs. The relative ease with which they settled in was a mix of a bunch of things: the boys fearless tough nature, their readiness to be big dogs, but also maybe that the spent so much of their puppy-dom in Upton centrally located amidst the big dogs because of the way that puppy pen is set up. They were comfortable in the big yard, before they were 3 months old.
Page, giving me the stink eye over my shoulder during rainy chores one morning.
And then, there is the girl pen, populated with the four intact 2 year old girls, Page, Tap Tap, Squan, and Marian Pychowska. Those four moved around a lot, eventually resolving into Page in the upper left corner, Tap beneath her, Squan next to Tap, and then Marian by the door. The vibe of the girl pen was usually Marian chewing on Squan’s face, while Tap watched, and Page yelled at everyone over in her corner. Marian and Squan became total BFFs this summer, Marian’s upbeat nature and lack of dominance matching Squan’s high energy. They love each other. I’d catch Tap and Page playing sometimes, through the window, but when I’d be in the yard they would be very serious, Page on her house and Tap looking for hugs.
Kicked off by Marian, the girl yard also dug some pretty impressive holes, an entire system. I started calling them the Math Team, for their engineering feats, and because all four of them (well, 3 of them, we still aren’t sure about Tapper) are all emerging lead dogs with smarts of their own.
Speck! spent his summer next to his brother Wocket, the two of them ended up next to each other because they posture so much during feeding time, they are the only ones who can put up with one another. Speck also was the companion for trips to Upton, where he’d frolic in fields and lose his toys in the lawn. Page, while in the girl pen, is right by her brothers, and out of the corner of my eye I could see all three of them going nuts at the same time during feeding. Marian, on the other hand, is a playful and upbeat girl and happily chewed on Squan’s face.
With Orchid on Mt Hayes, one Saturday afternoon in early August.
Rocky is ending the summer in the same house he’s been at all along, nestled off in the woods by himself. An emotional dog, and easily intimidated and stressed by the huge number of young males around him, having solitude seemed to work well. Rocky usually had exactly one toy that he could move around, and occasionally bury.
Jax and Cobalt settled into the yard pretty quickly, after arriving in the spring. Jax, suspicious of new things, took a long time to warm up to me. I think it was hours of brushing him with the grooming gloves that finally did it. Cobalt is ridiculous and quirky, so stoic during chores and feeding but turning into a ridiculous slinky when getting ear scratches. Jax and Cobalt were off in the corner by Orchid and Hoss, a corner of the yard that was happy and mostly calm. Orchid loved being in the middle of all the boys, and playing with her brother. Hoss needed isolation like Rocky, but for a different reason—he is such a dink with other males.
The front of the dogyard is a quartet of Skee, Jameson, Oriana and Spiller, the three girls all playing with Jameson, sometimes at the same time. Jameson and Spiller have been neighbors for almost a year and a half now, for most of Jameson’s life, and they adore each other.
Ariel and Aurora became belly-rubbing-seeking house dogs, going for walks with Chuck, entering competitive chewing contests with their Benebones, and hunting my sister’s cats. When the day was long and I needed an easy walk, I’d usually take Ariel to Mt Crag for a short blitz to a viewpoint after work.
It’s been a rich summer. In about four weeks, the dogs and I will move to Upton.
It’s time.