The Real Last Duel– Over a Dog? Bathurst Courier

I could not put this on Facebook as no one would be able to read it.. but this  was quite funny so I thought I’d “scrapbook” it on here.

 

Etsy—Pug Duel – Jedi Dog Art Print

 

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  12 Jun 1948, Sat,  Page 21

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

 

Alternate Ending to The Last Duel?

Would You Duel Anything For Love?

The Dogs of Lanark County–Alex Cram

How Much is that Doggie In the Museum?

The Funniest Anti-Dog Letter to the Editor–Almonte Gazette

The Dogs of Lanark County–Alex Cram

Photo-Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum-Photographer Annie Duff

 

In doing research for the Bridge Street, Carleton Place series I found some funny notes made by Marjorie Whyte. I have mentioned before that the Mississippi Hotel had quite the characters boarding there during the time Walter Mcllquham owned the hotel. Mcllquham doubled the room capacity to 56.

There was a Mr. McCabe who was tall, had a huge moustache, and always dressed in gray. Even though the gentleman was grand in appearance he was considered what one would have called a ‘derelict’ in those days. McCabe was often seen hanging around in the doorways of vacant stores muttering to himself.

Then there was Bill Green who wore an eyepatch and was one of the night clerks. If you remember the story about the fire in the Mississippi Hotel the devastating blaze it was caused by a defective south-end chimney right beside Bill Green’s room. Last but not least was Babe Morrison who played on the local Carleton Place hockey team.

However, one of the oddest characters living at the hotel was Alex Cram who was best known by the two-tone shoes he wore. Cram owned a fine British Bulldog that sported an odd collar and tag. It read:

“I am Alex Cram’s dog- who the hell are you?”

 

Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum-One of the Schwerdtfeger sisters (Hazel? or Gladys?) poses in the snow with her dog Perky in front of their home at 68 Lake Avenue West sometime in the 1960’s.

 

Perth Remembered–PERTH WINTER CARNIVAL 1958

Another great action shot of the Dog Sled Races shown here at the corner of Foster and Gore Street. Correction from yesterday’s post, (thanks to the keen eye of Brian Gilhuly to notice the correct church, I then researched the building to the left). So after the research, that is indeed St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church shown to the right in the background and James Brother’s Garage (Fred Frizell was mechanic there) to the left background. This building was bought by Bell Canada and demolished in 1962. Bell switching station is in that location now.-Perth Remembered–

Bonny Dee Hamilton– I remember when they came down Harvey St. I also remember someone leaving their car door open a VW beetle and a team going into that car. What a mess they had untangling the dogs. –Perth Remembered–

A day of liesure and time for an outing 1905. Pictured ready to go for a drive in a dump-cart in the yard at Joe Ebbs’ farm, are, from left; Miss Sarah McCoy, Mrs. Thomas Ireton (who brought her knitting along), Mrs. Albery, young George Ireton the driver and Harold Albery. Between the two boys is their dog.-Perth Remembered–

Perth Remembered–Some of the Merchants of Perth advertising for the 2nd Pre-International Dog Derby, January 1955.

Beckwith Township Lads

Carleton Place Canadian files–Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum

Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum

 Horrors! We came across a dog poop sitting right on the Boulton Brown millstone! Who did that???

Not one of OUR dogs.

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  12 Jan 1935, Sat,  Page 31

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

 

 

Unknown Blind Civil Rights Leader in Carleton Place — Ken London

Don’t Be a Bad Dog in Carleton Place! — Really!!! — SIGNS OF THE TIMES

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

Dear Town of Carleton Place– My Dog is Dead- 2nd Notice

 

Maybe they do put them in every envelope– maybe they don’t– but crap it still hurts.

 

First of all I would like to thank you for the water bill and a notice to procure a license for my dog–but my dog is dead.

Last year I received the same notice and I had a tearful conversation with someone at the town hall telling them– that my dog is dead.

I have no interest in calling someone and breaking out in tears again and telling them once again–that my dog is dead.

We didn’t bury him, nor do I have a death certificate from Barkers Funeral Home, but I can assure you once again– that my dog is dead.

I may be senile, but like other pet owners,  but receiving another notice breaks my heart as it reminds me–that my dog is dead.

I miss my boy terribly, and thousands have read  about him and the fact– that my dog is dead.

Thank you for the hope that he might be resurrected this year, as I really do wish he was too, but— my dog is dead.

This was by no means public shaming- and many thanks for your patience– just the fact– that my dog is dead.

Thank you

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News and now in The Townships Sun

 

Related Reading

Till Milkbone Do Us Part — a story about Axel..

Because You Loved Me –In Memory of Bluemist Volker Aksel

In the End –All that is Left are Memories and Paper

Memoirs of a Doggie Blogger from The Valley Veterinary Clinic

Collecting Your Dog’s Urine Sample– Dedicated to the Carleton Place Valley Veterinarian Clinic

The New Year’s Present

Photo- Linda Seccaspina

 

For anyone that has a dog or had one or knows one

The new after-Christmas rug was Wedgwood Blue and bristly in touch, almost like the back of a porcupine. In the centre of this spectacular piece of decor that everyone hated but me was a delicate white snowflake. I cherished this new acquisition and opened the door several times to gaze at my precious find. This rug would last for many years I thought to myself. It seemed to be invincible, and better yet was on sale.

The next day I could immediately smell what was on that festive mat before I opened the door to admire it. As I walked to the front door in slow motion, my nostrils filled with a scent so putrid that I immediately threw on the exhaust fan on my way over. Sitting in the centre of my inexpensive prize was “a pile of joy” the size of metropolitan Toronto.Who and what created this perfect masterpiece perched on top of the delicate snowflake? Did this animal not share my thoughts on the Holidays? The rug now had no where to go now but the dumpster. Who would ruin my treasured mat? What or who could do such a thing?

Ten minutes later I saw HIM in the hall running without a care. A dog, visiting my neighbour, sporting a fashionable festive hoodie had to be the culprit. As his collar jingled like Santa he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. We both spoke silently with our eyes locked, and suddenly I found myself filled with angry vocabulary not suitable for any time of the year. The dog now with downtrodden eyes, sucked himself closely to the wall as he passed by me. I glared at him as he walked by with apprehension and screamed,

“You little ^&*&$% !!!! Don’t do that again or Santa is not going to buy you any treats!”

Not wanting to have yet another disappointment over a door mat I found something suitable at a second hand shop. Costing more than my Walmart special, it was plain, brown, and obscure, and should last me through the next decade.The top of the mat read:

 

THE DOG – DAY 751–My captors continue to torment me with bizarre rubber squeak toys. They eat lavish meals in my presence while I am forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of eventual escape–that and the satisfaction I get from occasionally ruining some piece of furniture.I fear I may be going insane!

Yes, I thought to myself, this new rug will last at least through to the next Christmas season. It has no colour, or feel of the outdoors. It is a rug that does not tease or beckon anything on four legs. It is fool proof! The next morning the replacement rug was ceremoniously marched to the dumpster. Once again the bladder and bowels of the visiting creature had hit the mark and I no longer cared.

A $2.99 Ikea green and black stripe door mat found on page 39 of the Ikea catalogue became the final replacement. I seriously considered putting a “No Dumping” sign by my door. The next day I spied my furry friend running through the hall once again sporting yet another odd-ball hoodie. Our eyes met instantly, and after I slammed the door, I silently thought that no matter what I put out for a rug, this dog would always be “a rebel without a Claus”.

 

Related Reading

Till Milkbone Do Us Part

Dogs on Film at Walmart

And They Called it Puppy Love– The Waterside Story

A Message from the Rainbow Bridge

Because You Loved Me –In Memory of Bluemist Volker Aksel

In the End –All that is Left are Memories and Paper

Memoirs of a Doggie Blogger from The Valley Veterinary Clinic

Collecting Your Dog’s Urine Sample– Dedicated to the Carleton Place Valley Veterinarian Clinic

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News

How Much is that Doggie In the Museum?

How many pets live in museums?

For more than a century visitors have marvelled at the Hermitage Museum’s precious collections, and for just as long dozens of cats have prowled the Saint Petersburg palace’s sprawling cellars.

The felines have one main task – to root out unwanted guests: rodents. The 70-odd brigade have their claws so deep into the history of Russia’s largest museum, and one of the world’s oldest, that there is even a special feline unit dedicated to their welfare.

By the time Catherine the Great took power in 1762, the felines had become official residents. They were even dubbed the Winter Palace cats, after the royal residence that has now become part of the museum.

They survived successive wars, invasion by Napoleon’s forces and even the revolution that overthrew Tsarist rule.

During World War II, however, the cats did not make it through the 1941-1944 Nazi siege of Leningrad, the city’s name under Soviet rule. The city’s famished population had no choice but to eat their pets in order to survive.

Legend has it that the palace’s feline guard was brought back to life when World War II ended, when new recruits were brought in by train from all over Russia.

By the 1960s, there were so many cats at the Hermitage that the authorities decided it would be best to abandon them.

Yet the rat population proliferated and a few years later the cats again found their place.

Have you met Jack, who is photographed having a stretch during his shift at the Lambton Heritage Museum in Lambton Shores?

There is also this devout cat who lives in a fourteen hundred year old museum called Hagia Sophia in Turkey, guarding and preserving its religious and cultural history every single day. His name is  Gli. He is slightly cross eyed but a whole lot of cute. Besides watching guards, gardeners and keeping them supervised, Gli greets tourists and enjoys being photographed by them at the museum.

 

Photo from Isle of Wight County Museum licensed CC BY-SA 3.0

Of course I must add a pet ham–but it’s not just any ham (you knew I would have to throw some humour in here). This ham in particular (named, you guessed it… Ham) is 113 years old and lives in a museum in Virginia as the world’s oldest cured ham. The story goes that Ham was left to “cure” (be preserved to be eaten later) in 1902 in a meat packing plant and was forgotten. Eventually P.D. Gwaltney Jr. found it and decided to make it his pet. He had a collar made for it and took it everywhere he went. Now the ham, which you could probably still eat, sits in the museum. You used to be able to watch it on a live web cam! The ham was also featured in Ripley’s “Believe It Or Not” in 1929, 1932 and 2003.

So what about locally?

Well look who just became part of the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum in Almonte…

Michael Rikley-Lancaster has added something new to the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum, and it’s not just the new Colour Unboxed show coming up soon. (More on that this week)

Nevil is giving me “a close-up Mr. Deville”  and wondering what I could possibly add to his territory.

This is Nevil and he is our local addition to the series of “pets in museums”. Nevil is a rescue dog, about 5 years old, and has fit right in as canine curator of the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum . He loves participating in the new exhibits, which I saw in action, and greeting people. Did I mention he loves lots of attention and is beloved by all at the museum?

 Michael Rikley-Lancaster and Nevil opening up the door to hallowed ground.

Animals have become stars in their own right in museums,  and they have become hugely popular with the many tourists who visit each year. Visitors also snap up souvenirs and postcards adorned with their adorable faces on sale in the museum gift shops. So who knows, maybe down the line Nevil will be gracing some coffee mugs for sale at the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum. You just never know!

Come say HI to Nevil and everyone at the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum.

Michael Rikley-Lancaster and Nevil in a Rosamond masterpiece pose.

 

Related Posts

The Rosamonds Would Love You to Come and Shop Vintage!

Guess What I Found?–A Purchase from the Yard Goods Store

Does Fabric Make You Happy? Read This!!

Should we Really Keep Time in a Bottle or a Box?

The Rosamond Woolen Company’s Constipation Blues

Was Working in One of Our Local Mills Like Working in a Coal Mine?

Babies in the Textile Mills

Emotional Patchwork at The Mississippi Valley Textile Museum

Carleton Place Rules the World — Almonte Waves a White Flag!

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News

Lassie Come Home?

 

A dog jumped from the baggage car of a C . P . R . train at Carleton Place last week and hung around the railway track for several days. Later the dog reached Almonte and has been there since last Friday. On Saturday they tried to capture the animal, but he positively declines all advance that is in the direction of capitulation. He belongs to a Toronto gentleman who has a reward out for him.  Carleton Place Herald 1899

 

RELATED READING

Don’t Be a Bad Dog in Carleton Place! — Really!!! — SIGNS OF THE TIMES

Unknown Blind Civil Rights Leader in Carleton Place — Ken London

Watch Your Small Dogs! Local Predator Birds are Looking for Appetizers

The Funniest Anti-Dog Letter to the Editor–Almonte Gazette

Dogs on Film at Walmart

Pam Knowles – Who Lets The Dogs Out? Waggs’ n Whiskers

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

The Banning of Hot Dogs — Must We Stand for This Too My Countrymen?

Roy Bates and His Dog Named Taffy— ahh Paddy

What Does your Dog’s Sleeping Position Mean?

Dumping in Carleton Place — Dogs Don’t Give a Crap!

So What’s a Puppy Party?

 

It’s that time of years folks, and maybe these pictures will remind you of our Carleton Place Poop N Scoop Bylaws.

Inquiring minds are wondering what a Puppy Party is.. Seen at the Beckwith Animal Hospital on Franktown Road. Whatever it is– support your local vets.

REMEMBER:

Dumping in Carleton Place — Dogs Don’t Give a Crap!

SO WHAT IS A PUPPY PARTY??

Erin McEwen– Puppy Parties are a great place to socialize your puppy with other puppies that are of similar age. Until your puppy has all of their shots, it is not recommended that they visit dog parks, etc. so this is a good way to commence socialization.

Thanks Erin!

 

RELATED READING TO DOGS ETC— some of them you might need a Kleenex or two or three.

A Message from the Rainbow Bridge

Dogs on Film at Walmart

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

Dumping in Carleton Place — Dogs Don’t Give a Crap!

And They Called it Puppy Love– The Waterside Story

Watch Your Small Dogs! Local Predator Birds are Looking for Appetizers

This is What Happens When You Race the Roads of Carleton Place

Till Milkbone Do Us Part — a story about Axel..

Because You Loved Me –In Memory of Bluemist Volker Aksel

In the End –All that is Left are Memories and Paper

Memoirs of a Doggie Blogger from The Valley Veterinary Clinic

Collecting Your Dog’s Urine Sample– Dedicated to the Carleton Place Valley Veterinarian Clinic

 

The Funniest Anti-Dog Letter to the Editor–Almonte Gazette

Please note the name was withheld, and I am not sure I would print something like that due to any family members still being alive and maybe being mortified LOL

Read the Almonte Gazette here

 

Dear Sir,

I’m getting fed up to my two teeth with the circumstances which are transforming this once pleasant neighborhood in Almonte into what is virtually a sanctuary for boisterous dogs. There may be those who delight to live in kennels. I question neither their sense nor their taste since I am not precisely sure what either of those commodities are. But for myself, I am averse to living in a kennel and, for the life of me, I can’t see why the passion for a few members of the community for barking dogs should compel me to do so. It’s not that I ’m unfond of dogs as dogs.

 

I’ve had dogs of my own to which I was warmly addicted. But when I had dogs I made a point of keeping them on my own premises. The dogs I dislike to the point of rabid hatred are other “people’s dogs that can’t distinguish between my garden and their own, free-roving dogs up to the size of small Shetland ponies that cavort in my flower beds, use my front lawn as a common latrine and scare the hell out of my cats which are never permitted to go abroad”.

 

In a weak moment, last spring, I invested rather heavily in begonias which, as everyone knows, have fleshy- tender stems that break off with the greatest of ease. By midsummer, not a single begonia was left unbroken. The chief culprits seem to be a close little coterie consisting of a greyhound of some breed unknown to me, a light brown hound of another breed and a mongrel pup of no particular breed at all. These three, travelling together on early morning tours of inspection, are responsible for most of the damage.

 

What prompts this particular outburst is their latest imbecilic exploit which was to chew into multitudinous holes 100 feet of hose which is kept neatly coiled, on a small concrete base around the water tap on the front lawn. There is no doubt about their culpability because my wife, rising early, saw them at it and chased them off with a stick. These are not the only dogs in the neighbourhood by any means. Good God, we seem to have thousands of them!

 

Only the other day a most grotesque looking creature, which appeared to be a cross between a prairie badger and a Norway rat, was trotting sedately past the house when he suddenly stopped and turned in to refresh himself in my garden in the usual way. It’s getting to be more than a bit thick. And, you can interpret that remark in any way you choose. I have unashamedly hoped that this canine plethora would be thinned out a little by police action since it is unlawful for dogs to wander, unattended, at large.

I have hoped that the mongrel pup which chases cars would some day ram its silly noodle under a moving tire. But I have abandoned such high-minded expectancies because, not more than a month ago, I saw this ridiculous and destructive creature pursuing a police prowler car which had to stop dead in the centre of the road, with squealing brakes, to allow the fool to escape.

Frankly, I don’t expect the police to abandon their fight against organized crime to chase dogs no matter how flagrantly the latter or their owners violate the town ordinances. And yet I can’t see very much difference between three vagrant dogs chewing up $10 worth of garden hose and a two-legged dog breaking into my house and stealing $10 worth of goods.

Each act is an equally unlawful invasion of property rights. And the owners of these untrained, undisciplined and uncontrolled beasts are just as culpable as the professional thief.

Signed an Almonte resident

Almonte Gazette 1923

Read the Almonte Gazette here

This is my Granddaughter Miss Sophia telling this guy kind of where to go. Shot by Hannah Southwell of Carleton Place

And They Called it Puppy Love

The first story I had published in the San Francisco Chronicle.

 

My father used to have a large lumbering Irish setter named Thora. Sad to say she was equipped with a brain the size of one lonely canned pea. Thora would spend the lazy hazy days of summer lying out in the middle of the country dirt road just snoozing her life away. No one could get that dog to move, and it’s a wonder she never got run over. On car rally Sundays drivers were advised on their maps they had to maneuver around one big red dog lying in the middle of the road.

Thora had a serious admiring suitor named Frankie, and he was the tiniest farm dog I ever saw. He just loved Thora, and each day he would literally spring up the road to come visit his love. He would lick her face continuously and then proceed to bark at her for hours. Thora never moved, just closed her eyes, and one might say they simply were having a silent love affair.

As the months progressed, Frankie’s love for Thora turned to lust. Try as he may, consummating this relationship was quite difficult for one so small. Occasionally she would stand up and come to the house for water and there was Frankie, barely twenty inches from her tail. Jumping and barking like the dickens, the more he couldn’t do the deed, the more smoke seemed to be coming out of his ears. Thora in her own dazed world couldn’t have cared less.

Word got around the neighborhood and it became the talk of the county how this little dog would do anything to make Thora his. My father, always the comedian, continued to tell the “dog in lust” tale to anyone who would listen. He never really had an ending to this doggie tale until one fall morning when he came back from his walk grinning from ear to ear. That very morning he said, he had seen Frankie trot up the road dragging something behind him. Trying to keep a serious face my father said that Frankie was last seen toting a step ladder. Everyone laughed knowing a dog dragging something like that up a dirt road would be quite the sight, let alone impossible.

Well, maybe one fateful morning Frankie did indeed bring along a step ladder. Small as Frankie was, we all knew he was the most talented cattle dog in the valley, and obviously he pulled off a magic act that day. A few months later, on Valentine’s Day Thora gave birth to six puppies and there was never doubt in anyone’s mind to who the father was. My father, delighting in more fodder for his volume of stories added more to his tale of wonder. It was said that Frankie had been last seen passing out cigars as he dragged his step ladder back down the road. After all, waiting is a sign of true love and patience. Anyone can say I love you, but not everyone can wait and prove it’s true. Like Frankie and his everlasting love for Thora.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Dogs on Film at Walmart

 

February 5th 2010
When Steve opened the door this morning I heard him yell really loudly,
“What the hell?”
“You need to come here and see this quickly!”
Dear readers, there was no need to run, no need to even think. I could immediately smell what was on that mat from years of being a dog owner. As I walked to the front door in slow motion my nostrils filled with a scent so putrid that I immediately threw on the exhaust fan on my way over. Sitting there in the centre of my pride and joy was a steaming pile of poop the size of Metropolitan Cleveland.

Who and what created this perfect masterpiece that was sitting there on top of the delicate snowflake? Did this animal not share my thoughts on this rug of beauty? Yes, the rug had no where to go now but the dumpster. This building is full of artists and film editors and I assumed the culprit had to belong to one of them. I mean, there was no way I or they could have sculpted something so perfect.

Steve threw the rug out out, secretly thanking the dog who did it. The smell fading and the floor now bare in front of my door I thought of how great most of the animals in this building are. They were just as unique as their owners, so which one took the liberty of snowing on my snowflake?

 

Ten minutes later I saw HIM in the hall running without a care. An unknown visiting dog with a punk rock hoodie wrapped around his neck. His collar jingling, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. We both speak silently with our eyes locked and I suddenly find myself filled with immediate loud vocabulary. The dog now has down trodden eyes, and sucks himself as close to the far wall as he passes by me. I look at him as he walks with apprehension down the hall and scream,
“You little ^&*&$% !!!! Don’t do that again!”
Not wanting to have yet another a broken heart over a door mat I find something suitable at a second hand shop. Costing more than my Walmart special, it is plain and brown and obscure.

It says..:
THE DOG – DAY 751
My captors continue to torment me with bizarre rubber squeek toys. They eat lavish meals in my presence while I am forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of eventual escape…that and the satisfaction I get from occasionally ruining some piece of furniture. I fear I may be going insane!
Yes, I think to myself, this rug will last a lifetime. It has no colour, nor smell or feel of the outdoors. It is a rug that does not tease or beckon anything on four legs. It is fool proof.

March 17th
Steve, yet again is marching another rug to the dumpster. The fool proof mat has met its match and it is soaking wet and wreaks of ammonia. Once again the bladder and bowels of some unknown creature has hit the mark and I no longer care.

I put out the $2.99 Ikea green and black stripe door mat found on page 39 of the catalog. I consider putting a “No Dumping” sign by my door. Alas, what good would that do as I fear I too I may be going insane.

As Corey Ford once said,
“We humans cannot think like dogs. There exists a sharp difference in the mental capacity of humans and canines. For example, a human who is given an intricate problem will spend all day trying to solve it, but a canine will have the sense to give up and do something else instead.”

So from now on I am thinking like a dog and will now have the common sense to do something else instead.

Like maybe give up on the mats!

Photos taken at Walmart, Carleton Place- December 23, 2015.