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This past Sunday, one of our Central Park carriage horses bounded from the west side stable and trotted off for four blocks before being safely corralled by police and returned.
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According to most recent reports, "Bernie is fine and back on the job."
According to most recent reports, "Bernie is fine and back on the job."
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Anti-carriage groups are jumping on the incident as one more reason to ban carriage horses in New York City.
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I have already stated my personal position on the carriage horses in NYC (support of keeping them in the city) and that hasn't changed.
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But, when watching the video of Bernie seeming to merrily trot down the streets (am guessing Bernie to be a former racing trotter), it brought back memories of my dog, Tina who sadly, I had to have put down last month due to the ravages of very advanced age (21).
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Tina was a nearly perfect dog in every respect -- but one: She was completely unpredictable when allowed or accidentally getting off leash.
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As someone whose every dog from childhood to the present was totally trustworthy and contained when off leash, I was exceedingly unprepared for Tina when rescuing and later adopting her in 1997.
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My first attempt at allowing the then three-year-old Corgi/Spitz mix off leash came several months after adoption during the "Off Leash" hours in Central Park.
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It seemed at the time Tina was well bonded to me, knew her name and always came when called in the apartment.
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But Central Park was an entirely different story. Apparently, in the outdoors, Tina became stone deaf.
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We were around the Great Lawn one morning, an area where dog owners typically gather in the early hours to allow their dogs some running and play time.
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When I unhooked Tina's leash, she ran all right. And ran and ran and ran, without ever looking back or twitching an ear to the sounds of "Come!"
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"Tina! Tina! Come, Come!!" I shouted repeatedly, to complete futility.
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Running as fast as I could so as not to lose Tina from sight, that too was a losing battle as Tina was like a rocket shot out of a canon.
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Time and time again, I had to ask other people, "Have you seen a little blonde and white dog running by?"
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Fortunately, hands pointed me towards the direction of Belvedere Castle.
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Frantic, out of breath and in complete panic, I finally caught up to Tina at Shakesphere Gardens, a good half mile from where we originally started. I swear I could have qualified for an Olympic running medal that day, even though I am not a runner.
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Having learned a lesson the hard way, it would be a few years before I attempted this adventure again.
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But, "attempt" I did in either 1999 or 2000.
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It was Thanksgiving Day and since Petco on 86th Street was closed, I finally had an off day from doing cat Adoptions.
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I decided to venture to Central Park with Tina despite the fact it was probably one of the worst days of that entire year, weather wise.
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Frigid, icy and damp is the best way to describe it -- at least initially. The running path around the Central Park Reservoir was completely empty of people and that was because it was covered in ice, melting snow and slush. In other words, it was a complete and slippery mess.
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I don't know what brain storm suddenly compelled me to remove Tina's leash to give her a little "freedom," but it was probably the absence of another human soul anywhere. I figured the "quiet" would be soothing and relaxing for her.
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Wrong again.
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Tina took off like a fox pursued by the hounds of hell.
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"Oh My God!! Tina Come BACK!!! Come, Come!!"
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Deaf dog running. And running. And running.
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Once again, I had to attempt the marathon sprint -- only this time with heavy boots that were quickly filling up with slush and ice.
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No Olympic medals this time as I was barely able to wade through the icy, slippery slop, without tripping, much less run.
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Though starting from the south east side of the Reservoir, I finally caught up to Tina on the far north west side of the watercourse -- nearly a full mile away.
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I wanted to ring her neck!
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But, I didn't. Rather, I was thanking God for helping me to miraculously retrieve my wander lust, wayward pooch.
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Exhausted, wet and with frozen feet, I clipped the leash to Tina and we started very slowly to trudge through the melting snow and ice back home.
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That's when it began to pour rain!
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I don't know who was more drowned or frozen by the time we finally made it home -- Tina or me.
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I don't want to say this was the worst Thanksgiving of my life, but it came close. Let's just say for my one day "off," it was one of the most exhausting, stressful and WET days of my entire life!
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Fast forward nearly a decade till I adopted my Pomeranian, Chance. I had already had Chance maybe a year or so, when one day deciding to allow him off leash during the designated hours at the Great Lawn in CP. But, then I felt "guilty" in not allowing Tina the same privilege. She is after all, much older now, I reasoned to myself. Surely, she won't run off again.
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WRONG.
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But, not only did Tina run off this time, but Chance as well! And to add to the horrors, the two dogs ran in opposite directions!
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Paralyzed and not knowing which dog to pursue, I stood there calling, first one dog and then the other as both dogs were quickly disappearing from view.
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People stopped and stared as if I was a mad woman. ("Did she really lose two dogs or is this woman just nuts?")
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Finally, while I still could see him, I ran after Chance and finally grabbed him at the edge of one of the smaller lawns.
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But, then I had completely lost Tina on the other side of the park. There was no sign of her anywhere!
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Complete panic then, I wandered aimlessly again asking people if they had seen a small blonde and white dog running by?
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Of course, all dogs were running at that hour. It was the off leash period, so virtually no one was able to guide me to my then wandering 15-year-old pooch.
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I'm not sure how many times I circled the Great Lawn imagining the very worst. A panicked Tina getting out of Central Park and getting killed by a car. Tina ending up in the pound again. Tina terrified, lost and gone forever. There aren't enough curses in the book to account for all the ones I called myself that day.
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Finally, despaired and exhausted, I was about to give up, go home and start making desperate calls when I noticed in the distance, people lining up for show tickets near the Delacourt Theatre. And who was among them, but a small golden and white dog!
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IT WAS TINA!
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Running like a mad woman, dragging Chance behind me, we finally caught up to Tina.
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And though my imagination had run wild with all kind of images of a terrified and panicked Tina, she was nothing of the sort!
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On the contrary, Tina appeared disappointed that her "adventure" had ended and her leash was being attached again. "But, Mommy, I was having such a nice time getting to know and fraternize with people! Why do you look so tired and upset? Everything is cool!"
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By that time, "off leash" hours had ended in Central Park. But, for Tina, they had ended forever.
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There were a couple of other similar incidents of Tina actually pulling out of her collar and taking off, including one two years ago when she could barely walk. I still had to chase Tina nearly a quarter of a mile at Harlem Meer despite her then being 19-years-old.
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Yes, Tina was a wonderful and nearly perfect dog in every sense of the word. But, she led me on many a not-so-merry chase, causing me to admit, that it's not true that I am not a runner. Tina made me one.
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And watching Bernie, the carriage horse merrily trot off in the news video yesterday, I am reminded of all those "marathons" and how totally and dearly I miss Tina.
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May Bernie be the blessing to his people that Tina was to me and may he always maintain just a hint of merry wanderlust to keep his people on their toes, but always smiling in the end. -- PCA
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