Some years back I adopted a gangly and golden red dog from the barn where I worked. He was a scraggly stray, with a huge rope burn on his neck, filthy dirty, and no training. He was super skinny and a little crazed from that: he had an anxious obsession for food that never left him. He loved old horses and baby cats. He lived to be 18 yrs old and I wrote a little story about him, thinking I didn't want to lose his memory over time. He was a very soulful dog, and it came out almost like a children's story. I had aspirations of illustrations and book deals. that never materialized. No matter now, but respectable blog by me should include the story of Barney of Hawthorne Street.
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One day, I arrived at work and there was a new puppy at the barn. He was a stray dog who came up to the barn because he was hungry and lonely. He made friends with the horses and barn cats, and when I first saw him I knew we would be friends, too! He had the sweetest face and a very long, waggly tail. I first thought I would call him Pumpkin, because of his orange-colored fur, but everyone else started calling him Barney and that is the name that stuck. Barney became my carriage dog, riding out with me each afternoon to meet people from all over the world. Lots of people would stop to talk to him and want to take his picture. He wasn’t the only carriage dog and he loved to bark and jump up on the seat when he saw his many dog friends riding on their own buggies.
One of Barney’s best dog friends was a girl dog called Bridgette. Bridgette was the original carriage dog in town and she lived in the barn with the horses. Barney and Bridgette would play together while the drivers tacked up their horses. They liked to run next door to the Fire Station, where the firemen would often give them hotdogs or biscuits. Once I even thought Barney was lost because he didn’t come when I called him, but actually he was inside the fire station watching a movie with the captain! Barney knew how to make friends, both animal and human!
Like most barns, we had a cat to keep the mice away from the horses’ food barrels. We just called our cat “Barn Cat” until she had a litter of kittens, then we started calling her “Momma Kitty”. Barney loved being at the barn, and he loved Momma Kitty, most of all though, he loved her litter of kittens. He wanted to help her raise them and bathe them and carry them around in his mouth like she did. We kept all the kittens in a little plastic swimming pool and whenever Momma Kitty would leave the pool, Barney would be right there to take over her duties. He would slowly climb into the pool and lay down, careful not to step on the sleeping babies. Then, when they woke up, he would let the kittens crawl all over him and lick them clean while they mewed happily. Barney did not want to let the kittens out of his sight and once they got a little bigger they would growl at him if he tried to keep them in the pool. He finally had to let the little babies grow up and go out on their own, but he still liked to play with them every time he had the chance.
Barney always tried to stick close to the barn so he would be ready to ride the carriage when it was time to go to work. Once, some bad people tried to kidnap Barney. I guess they thought he would just go along with them and be their dog. They tied a string around his neck and walked him away from the barn. I was so worried but when I got the word out that he was missing, another carriage driver saw the people who had Barney. He called out to them, but they kept walking. When Barney heard the horse’s hooves and the carriage coming up behind him, he knew he was supposed to be on that carriage! He started whining and trying to get away from the kidnappers. Finally, the driver told the people to let Barney go, he was a carriage dog and couldn’t be taken away! The people dropped the string and let Barney go, and he ran to the carriage and jumped on. After that, I always kept Barney’s tags and LEASH on him and made sure he stayed close by.
After a while, I didn’t drive the carriage anymore, I became a teacher. My students loved to hear the tales of Barney and all his adventures. Of course, he had many new experiences after we left the barn life and he has never lost his desire to explore new things.
Barney died at age 18, after an extended period of illness and what I know now was probably dementia. His face turned white but always looked so puppyish to me. What a good dog!
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I'll add a disclaimer to this tale. I did drive a carriage in my youth, as the story describes, and that may be controversial for some readers. I loved my horses and dogs and took good care of them. I do not think I was ever cruel, although as I've gotten older I've certainly seen how it can be dangerous for the animals, especially in a big city. Our rides were mainly in parks and side streets, and we had all kinds of safety rules pertaining to weather and water and hours on the job. I don't think it is wrong for horse to learn how to wear a bit, or be ridden, or pull a cart, as long as torture is not part of the learning process or the job. I trained several of the horses I drove, and they seemed to love their life in the barn and on the rides. We were not in a lot of street traffic or crowds. The issues come into play from greed of the humans who use them, sometimes overwork them, and then, also, the dangerous situations of crowded city streets. They should always be kept safe and humanely cared for, and as time goes on that will be less likely in large cities where the traffic comes into the equation and humans only consider the money to be made. I would welcome respectful dialog and your thoughts in the Comments.
For more information on the current state of affairs for carriage horse legislation, be sure to follow the HSUS's page on the matter, found here:
Carriage Horses 
