The Mystery of the Missing Canine. June 11, 2020

Copyright © 2020                               John F. Oyler 

 June 11, 2020

The Mystery of the Missing Canine

For a number of years, a statue of a dog has been a landmark in our woods. It was about thirty inches high, portraying a Golden Retriever obediently sitting back on its haunches (hunkered down?). No one seems to know how it got there, although some of the older eccentrics in the neighborhood apparently have fabricated unlikely scenarios.

My favorite is the story that a farmer living in the century old house across the road at the west end of the woods was having a problem with a dog that simply wouldn’t obey. One day the dog ran off and refused to come home. When his owner finally located him, he threatened him, “If you don’t come to me this very minute, I will turn you into stone”. The dog didn’t, and the farmer did, and since then we have enjoyed the statue.

Another theory is that the dog really is a troll-like creature that comes to life at midnight and wanders around all night, returning to its home base before dawn, at which time it reverts back to being stone. This fantasy is supported by the fact that, although he is always at the same place, sometimes he is facing a different direction than he was the previous evening.

At some point we learned that his name is Winston; perhaps someone thought he looked like Churchill. At any rate, checking him out regularly was a necessary stop on every hike through the woods, taking special note of which direction he was facing.

Early in December we were shocked to see that he had disappeared. Despite the fact that he weighs several hundred pounds, there was no evidence of his being dragged, no sign of any disturbance whatsoever. That evening I posted a query on “Next Door Neighborhoods”, inquiring if anyone knew what had happened to him.

A day or so later a gentleman named David Kammenzind replied, “What did he look like?” Regrettably, I failed to respond. Since then there have been occasional posts on the “Next Door Neighborhoods” website, mostly folks lamenting his disappearance. Recently, however, I noted one from Mr. Kammenzind, the first respondent.

This time I contacted him, and learned that a dog statue had indeed been deposited on his front porch, that he called the police, and that had been taken away. He even produced a photo that clearly identified it as our missing Winston.

I immediately emailed the local police department, prompting phone call confirming that the statue was in their possession. The next morning I was contacted by Officer O’Brien and arranged to meet him at the parking area at the edge of the woods. Sure enough, he and Officer Harbison (?) showed up with Winston and a dolly, and promptly returned him to his rightful place.

Winston’s return has been celebrated by all the folks who regularly walk in the woods. He is no worse for wear after his six months in (protective) police custody.

We are grateful to the police department for their care of him and the prompt way they brought him home, once they knew where home was.

Conventional wisdom is that someone removed him as a prank, transported him half a mile across town, and dropped him off on Mr. Kammenzind’s porch. That appears to a reasonable explanation and allows the police to close this case. Except, how in the world could anyone pick up that heavy statue and haul it to a car without leaving a trace?

Is it possible that there is something mystical involved here? After all, these woods are well known to be enchanted and to contain any number of phenomena that border on the supernatural, including one that is within a couple of hundred yards from Winston’s stamping ground.

That, of course, is the popular pavilion, or picnic shelter, that the township constructed thirty-five years ago. By the strangest of coincidences, it is oriented such that its main axis and ridgepole line up perfectly with the point where the sun hits the horizon when it sets on the date of the winter solstice.

This is something one would suspect of an ancient Native American structure or even a Druid one. Is it really a coincidence that the township engineer oriented the pavilion in that precise direction? Or is it built on the foundations of some archaic sun-worshiping culture?

And then there is the mystical “brick garden”, which I have described in previous columns. Each Spring a new crop of collectible paving bricks magically surfaces – six or seven “Bessemer Youngstown”, three or four “C. P. Mayer”, and an occasional “Porter National”. The garden is deep in a thicket, high on a hillside, with no apparent access by any road or lane. Again, by coincidence, the closest residence to the garden is the home of the only card-carrying member of the International Brick Collectors Association in Allegheny County.

A few weeks ago we wrote about the mystical re-appearance of the rare trillium recurvatum after an absence of three or four years and wistfully suggested that this coincidence was a hopeful sign from the “Great Spirit” that there are better days ahead for those of us self-isolated and hunkered down because of the Covid 19 pandemic.

The engineer/amateur scientist in me realizes that there is a logical, rational explanation for each and every one of these mystical phenomena. Surely two strong young men picked up Winston and tiptoed to their truck to abduct. Surely it is a coincidence that the pavilion is oriented like an element in Stonehenge. Surely a truck dumped a load of bricks at a site coincidentally near the home of a passionate brick collector. Surely climate change interfered with the life cycle of the trillium recurvatum.

Nonetheless …..