Dogs Clamantis in Deserto

Our reporters get a leg up on the situation in Hanover.

TAKE 1963: THAT WAS A GOOD YEAR. Dogs had it made back then, and, being dogs, didn't even know it. One of them, a notoriously stuck-up Irish setter, wrote a letter to the Daily D bitching about the cafeteria. Human hairs had been found in the food, he wrote. "If the ASPCA found out that dogs were dining at Thayer there would be hell to pay."

At least they were welcome then. Now dining workers keep little sonic things in their pockets that make an earsplitting noise at any non-human that pops in for a bite.

Forget all this baying about "celebrating differences" in academe. If Hanover wanted to celebrate differences it would take some steps to make life a little easier for some of God's creatures. Sure, food-service workers have been bitten and occasionally threatened. Occasionally dogs have been known to behave as badly as students. But let's not throw out the puppy with the bathwater.

Think of how much dogs have contributed to the College's history. Eleazar Wheelock probably had a pet ("Clamantis"?) to help work on his farm. President Tucker had a pointer named Ted. Then there were Hopkins's Scottish deerhound Bruce, Dickey's golden retriever Rusty, Thor, Dammit, Mad Dog, Elmo, Edson (a guide-dog-in- training with Clara Zurn '92), the History Department's Bentley, Anthropology's Peabody. In 1917, dogs inspired The Dartmouth to be the first to recommend canine affinity housing. The College, said the paper, should provide individual kennels outside each building. In the early thirties a student allegedly sent his dog to take his place in class, only to receive a cut, "despite," said this magazine, "the diligent attention of his substitute." In 1963 Hanover town fathers had the temerity to propose having the police "take whatever steps are necessary to restrain all dogs." Common sense prevailed. Dartmouth's treasurer, John Meek '33, argued that the Hanover dogs were getting a bum rap—that the real bad dog elements were crossing € over the Ledyard Bridge from Norwich. Emeritus James Poole reminded the voters that though laws might be passed dogs can't read. The motion failed.

And in 1992? In blue-nosed, Puritan-minded 1992 an animal must be under its owner's restraint, such as on a leash, or on the owner's premises, or accompanied by and under the control of the owner. Talk about hegemony. And Dartmouth regulations prohibit pets in what the deans like to call "residence halls."

Okay, life is not totally empty of meaning for a dog, even today. Dogs still can't read, all power to them, and so they continue to flout the laws even as they (the laws) proliferate. In the past year dogs have menaced joggers, bicyclists, food-service employees, mail carriers, paper boys, UPS delivery people, and the College's buildings and grounds crews. Life still exists on the Hanover Plain. Neatly skirting the control laws, dogs around campus still rigorously carry out their instinctual mandates to dig, run in packs, protect their territory, foul walkways, fight one another, chase moving objects, and look for food.

But there's a dark underbelly to this picture.

A few months ago, a German shepherd mix named Booter a member of Sigma Phi Epsilon went after a Hanover postal carrier on Fraternity Row. Then Dixie, a mixed breed of Beta Theta Pi, was formally separated from the College for menacing passersby. The Hanover post office stopped delivering mail on Webster Avenue. "The College determined that they couldn't restrain the dogs," said Hanover Postmaster Deborah Johnson. "We determined that it was unsafe for our carrier to deliver mail."

For a time the suspension cut off delivery to President Freedman's house; all his mail was forwarded to Parkhurst. Then, last October, an alert carrier appropriately named Guy Serviss found he could slip through the bushes in the presidential backyard to deliver the Freedmans' mail. After Parkhurst put some pressure on Fraternity Row, the students began restraining their dogs better. Although the students themselves don't seem more restrained, mail service has resumed on Webster Avenue. Then there was the shower problem. After three attempts last year to work on .plumbing in Chi Heorot, buildings and grounds crew workers refused to enter the College- owned fraternity house because of an "unruly dog." The fraternity's privilege to own dogs was revoked. Some delivery people refuse to set foot in certain houses, such as Alpha Delta. That fraternity model for the movie "Animal House" happens to be famous for its dogs and, having renounced its affiliation with the College, is actually registered with the town as a kennel.

"They definitely have a great life," brags a member of Theta Delta Chi, another canine-oriented fraternity. "Having a hundred young men give all their attention to a couple of dogs it's a good life." But there have been charges that some pets are abused by their owners. "Many end up here at some point in their lives," says Joan McGovern, executive director of the Upper Valley Humane Society, which refuses to give dogs to Dartmouth students. Paradoxically, half of the shelter's 80 volunteers are Dartmouth students.

But there is light at the end of the kennel. In recent months, students and town officials (who must suffer from a certain sense of déjà vu) have lobbied Dartmouth administrators to form a joint committee to examine what Hanoverians solipsistically call "the dog problem." Dogs were not invited to the discussion. Chaired by Dean of Student Life Holly Sateia, the group urged students to "be good citizens" and register their dogs with the town.

But freedom still rings, and tradition is yet upheld. Living proof can be seen at every football game.

There are, indeed, still dogs at football games. One even drew a penalty recently; Freshman Football Coach Don Farnham is an emphatic witness. "Freshman football depends more on momentum than talent," says Farnham. "We were up 14-7 on Cornell last fall and everything was going our way when suddenly this golden retriever scampers onto Chase Field, eluding the refs, the linemen, the backs even the wide receivers, who are supposed to be good at pulling in flying objects. Well, they continued play for a while despite the dog, but then he tripped up a couple of Cornell players. The officials told our bench to get the dog and somebody finally grabbed him and secured him to the goalpost. But almost immediately he got loose and, yes, the ref actually threw a flag at the dog. Fifteen yards! Well, that kind of stopped our drive and eventually Cornell scored again. So, it ended in a tie, 14-14, and the dog disappeared with our victory."

Yeah, and guess who the crowd booed. Not the dog.

Canine interferencemay have cost a game.

Meek said Norwich dogswere trouble.

Dogs used to complain about the cafeteria food. Now thedoors of Thayer are closed to non-human eaters.

A Notoriously Stuck-Up Irish Setter Wrote a Letter To The Daily D Bitching About The Cafeteria.

Contributing editors Robert Nutt '49 and Jonathan Douglas'92 wrote this report, incorporating recent investigations byAndrea Heil of the Valley News, Pamela Kunen '93 and KiraThomas '93 of The Dartmouth, and the authors.