HANOVER DOGS 1963
Several readers of this column who have been moved to write to me have indicated that I was not doing too badly but have expressed regret that I didn't smell out more humor in our "town and gown" community. This is probably a fair criticism for Heaven knows there is enough humor in our midst, conscious or otherwise.
This is the season of the year, for example, when the dogs who are so übiquitous a part of the local scene begin to take a new interest in life, and we have had this spring something of a tempest in a teapot on the dog question. Most of our dogs seem to run hither and yon without let or hindrance, scaring hell out of motorists, making their morning rounds regardless of fence and bound, leaving their calling cards in the most inconvenient places, and even piddling on our porch furniture, pushed aside for the winter. They have a special affinity for the College dining facilities in Thayer Hall and their visits there, in spite of high administrative attempts to stem the tide, continue unabated - often, to be sure, with an aid and assist from dogloving undergraduates.
Although admitting student collusion with "Thayer Hall dogs," some undergraduates have resented their presence and one freshman even addressed a formal complaint to the N.H. State Department of Health and Welfare. He accused the dogs of all sorts of unsanitary behavior, including "poking their noses into vessels of food" and "vomiting on the carpet in the lobby," and asserted that both College and town officials seemed powerless in the matter. But you may be sure that the good Hanover dogs didn't take this canard lying down. "An Irate Irish Setter" wrote The Dartmouth complaining that as a matter of fact dogs didn't have it so good at Thayer and deploring abusive treatment, lack of sanitary facilities for his kind, and on several occasions at least "the finding of human hairs in the food." Our "Irate Setter" suggested that the whole matter be kept as clandestine as possible and concluded his letter with the warning note that "if the ASPCA found that dogs were dining at Thayer there would be hell to pay."
And the dogs have stirred the ire of adult citizens as well. Article 8 in the warning for this spring's precinct meeting - believe it or not - read as follows: "To see if the Precinct will recommend that the Board of Commissioners take whatever steps are necessary to restrain all dogs during the period from April Ist to November Ist of each year." Discussion of the article was described as "spirited." Mr. Edward S. Fabian spoke at some length about "problem dogs" and the necessity of preventing them from running at large; Treasurer John Meek '33 reported that among the worst offenders was a contingent of Norwich dogs that cross the river daily for a square meal at Thayer; and Emeritus Professor James Poole reminded the voters that though laws might be passed the trouble is that dogs can't read. Apparently the majority of the citizens combined a sympathy for natural canine proclivities with a feeling that Hanovewithout its free-wheeling dogs would not be Hanover, and the motion, according to the Hanover Gazette, was "vociferously voted down."
Perhaps Mr. Meek should be reminded that at least some part of the transfluvian dog traffic has Norwich as its favored destination. That smart black boy "Jet," property of Dr. John Coyle '24, when moved to Hanover some years ago, failed to adjust to our highly intellectualized atmosphere and returns for frequent and very lengthy visits with friendly former neighbors. Dr. Dick Barrett's family report that they enjoy these protracted stays as much as "Jet" does. So eager is "Jet" to get away to enjoy this Norwich hospitality that he has been known to swim the Connecticut en route. Whether this is just for fun, or an attempt to throw his friends off scent, "Jet" has never disclosed. Another instance of the Norwich trend is found in SAE's gentle Minnie who just couldn't take Hanover and by her own request has transferred residence to a lovely, quiet spot in Beaver Meadow.
Mention should be made of the way Emeritus Professor Leland Griggs '02 has handled the dog situation at his house. It seems that a large pack of dogs made its daily round through Doc's yard, fouling his porch, endangering if not ruining his unique garden of rare wild plants, and generally raising havoc. "Doc" stopped the run by devising an elaborate Rube Goldberg deadfall device, using such common materials as piano-wire, an ordinary pail, water, and a large collection of empty beer cans. The lead dog, when he tripped the trap, got a good dowsing along with a pelting of clattering cans. "Doc" reports that his ingenious and harmless device has proved extremely effective. The only difficulty has been that some of his neighbors rushed out to see the non-existent crumbled fenders, and once a Fuller brush salesman made the mistake of making the wrong approach to the porch. But being a Fuller brush man must be a dog's life anyway!
By and large, dogs are great favorites in Hanover and have a very happy life. One important officer of the College always carries dog biscuit in his pocket to treat his canine friends. One faculty man has a secretary who greets his dog each day with a choice cracker and on Saturdays, when the secretary does not report for duty, a colleague gladly takes care of this generous donation. Dogs range freely through the town from campus to fraternity row and from Main Street stores to the football field, and even invade the sacred precincts of Hopkins Center. Certain _ intellectually minded dogs attend classes with greater regularity than some students and have the advantage of being able to ask to leave if the lecture gets too boring. We have never actually seen a dog at a funeral but there is no other type of meeting in Hanover where they do not find themselves quite at home, and especially at Convocations. Even the astronauts have noted this fact and at Commencement in 1962, Commander Alan Shepard Jr., noting a playful bevy of dogs approaching the platform in front of Baker Library, began his remarks with the words "President Dickey, faculty, friends of Dartmouth, members of the canine corps, and fellow classmates."
Our final topic only serves to illustrate that at times a human can find himself or herself in the dog house. Pee Wee Hockey was an important item in the community recreation this winter but the season ended on a sour note when it turned out that a carefully kept record of goals, assists, etc., went into the washing machine with the shirt of Coach Abner Oakes '56. One of the youthful stickmen raised hell with the Hanover Gazette for its garbled and inaccurate account of final results but it all came out in the wash. Emerging from her dog house, Ab's good wife, in a letter to the local sheet, promised "to re-check all pockets before tossing another shirt into the machine."
This may be enough! The late Professor James Parmalee Richardson '99 once warned Max Norton '19, "Max, your so-called sense of humor will someday get you into trouble." And Big Jim once took vigorous exception to a feeble attempt of mine to imitate one of his pompous, nasal pronouncements. And so one has to be careful about where and how he dispenses his "so-called" humor. But come what may, dogs will be dogs and in general they are no respecters of either persons or boundary lines. Strange indeed how most dogs go over into the next yard to tend to their daily business! And so it is that Hanover and Norwich remain good places in which to live, for thanks to a happy combination of humans and dogs they provide local humor enough to give each day its appropriate chuckle.
