Owney The Traveling Dog
by Lynn Hall
Thank you Lynn Hall for giving us permission to post your entire book on this web site.
It was a cold, snowy evening, but the streets of Albany, N.Y. were crowded with carriages drawn by fine horses. Women in long skirts looked into bright store windows. Men smiled and nodded to one another and called, "Merry Christmas."Through the lines of carriages came the post office wagon. It was bringing large sacks of mail from the railroad station to the post office.
Even that speed was almost too much for the puppy under the wagon.
He was a very small brown puppy, and he had to run to keep up with the horses. This place, under the wagon, was safe. It was the only safety the puppy had found from the dangers of the city streets. And the wagon kept the snow off him, thought he was already so cold and wet it hardly mattered.But worse than being cold and tired was being hungry. The hunger made the puppy weak. It frightened him. Even though he was very young, he understood that hunger could kill him.
He fell. Part of him just wanted to lie there and give up. But the stronger part of him said NO.
He got up and ran until he was under the mail wagon again.
Suddenly they were going down a steep hill. Then it was dark, quiet, and warm! The wagon stopped, and so did the pup.
Soon there were people around the wagon. The puppy saw black boots, gray pants legs, and huge gray bags, marked U.S. MAIL.
There was something welcoming about the big gray bags. In the back of the puppy's mind was something big and soft and warm. It was something that had given him life and food.
When all the black boots were on one side of the wagon, the pup trotted out on the other side and climbed up onto the nearest gray bag. It was not as soft as it looked. In fact, it had bumps and corners sticking up everywhere. But the pup was too sleepy to care. It was warm here, and he didn't need to run any more.
He curled up and slept.
The sharp hunger pain in his stomach woke him.
Hours had passed. His brown coat was dry now, and he was thoroughly warm. When he lifted his head, he found that someone had put a woolen scarf over him. He sat up and blinked.
The horses and wagon were gone now. He was in a large dim room that was filled with stacks of gray bags. Several men were working at tables, sorting mail.
Closer to the pup, two men sat eating sandwiches and watching him.
"He's awake," James said.
"It's about time." Buck answered. "I was beginning to worry. He's too young to be out in this weather."
The pup didn't know what the words meant, but he knew kindness. And he very definitely knew the smell of food! He fell down the side of the sack, but landed running. He went to the nearest man, and the miracle happened. He was given food--a crust of the sandwich. It was gone before he'd even tasted it."He's starving, the poor little devil," Buck said. Buck gave the pup the rest of the sandwich--meat and all.
"What can we do with him?" James asked. "We can't put him out on the streets.
He'd never live."
Buck scratched his head. "Well, I can't take him home. King would be jealous if I brought another dog into the house. He thinks he owns the place."
"And I can't," James said. 'No pets are allowed in our apartment. He's a cute little beggar, though, isn't he?"
They thought some more. Then James said, "Let's just keep him here. He can be our mascot. It won't take much to feed him. And he'll be good company, especially at night."
And so the pup stayed on. Buck and James named him Owney, and they fixed a bed for him in a warm corner of the office. The bed was an empty mail sack, folded over. The other men on the night shift soon found out about the pup. They began bringing extra food in their dinner pails. Before long the thin little dog was a fat and happy puppy. He had 30 loving owners.
By the time spring came to Albany, Owney was large enough, and curious enough, to go exploring. He trotted up and down all the streets near the post office. He spent a lot of time in the barn where the post office horses and wagons were kept. Now that he was quick enough to dodge their feet, he lost his fear of the horses. They became his friends.In fact there was nothing that the brown pup was afraid of. He had a fine home in the post office. He had all the food he wanted, and all the company he wanted. When he need to be loved, there were willing hands to pet him.
One bright day in June, Owney came home form a visit to the barn, Now he wanted to have a nap, but he found that his bed was gone. He went to the corner where it had been and stood there, with his head cocked to one side.
One of the men saw him and said, "Sorry, Owney. We were short of mail bags for this afternoon's mail. We had to use yours. I'll fix you another beg when I get a minute.
Owney didn't understand the words. So he turned around and trotted out into the loading areas. The wagon for the afternoon mail stood by the dock. Two men were loading the bags.
Owney stopped. He stared up at the loaded mail bags for a moment. Then he leaped onto the dock and from there into the wagon.
"Get down form there, Owney," one of the men called. But the man was busy, and he didn't watch what Owney did.
The little dog climbed up, around, and over the gray mail bags until he found the one that was his. It was fat with letters instead of folded flat, as it was supposed to be. But it was Owney's bed. He circled three times on his sack and then settled down for a nap.
Soon the wagon moved away from the dock. Owney slept thought the trip down the streets of Albany. He woke up only when the wagon stopped at the railroad station. Close beside the wagon was a freight car. It was one of more than a hundred cars that made up the long, long train.
No one noticed Owney when he jumped down. The pup trotted up and down the railway platform and stared at the train. It was the biggest thing he had ever seen. Its wheels held faint smells from many distant places. Owney grew almost dizzy with the excitement of it all.
He came back to the wagon just in time to see his own gray bag as it was tossed inside the freight car.
Owney got a running start and jumped up into the car.
"Scram, you mutt," someone shouted. "Darned old stray dogs!"
But Owney just moved around the mail bags. Owney found his bag and settled into a soft place on the top of it. Then something whistled. Something whished and whooshed and chugged, and the train began to move.
Owney sat up, pleasantly surprised. He was going on another ride. The train clicked and clacked and picked up speed.
The door of the mail car had been left partly open. Owney slid down the pile of bags and sat beside the door. Things he had never seen before flashed past. He sniffed the animal smells, the green smells, the earth smells. His head moved form side to side, faster and faster, as he tried to see everything that was going past. His tail wagged faster and faster with excitement.
Suddenly someone was standing behind him. He was an old man, a stranger. But he wore the same gray uniform that Owney's other men wore. So Owney gave him a wag and went back to watching through the door.
"Would you look here," the man said to another man, who was sorting mail at a table. "We've got ourselves a little passenger."
Through the rest of the long journey, the men petted Owney and played with him. They even shared their suppers with him. It was just like being at home for Owney, except there was the additional excitement of the outdoors flashing by. The noise of the wheels beneath the car was part of the excitement, too.
Late that night the train stopped, and the men began unloading the mail bags.
"What should we do about he dog?" one man asked.
The old man said, "We'd better send him back to Albany on the 2:15 train. He must belong to somebody there."
Then the old man wrote a note and fastened it to Owney's collar. The note said, "Your dog rode to Buffalo with us. We're sending him back." When the mail car of the southbound 2:15 was loaded and ready to leave for Albany, the old man handed Owney to another man. "Be sure to put him off at Albany," he said.
And so, at midmorning the next day, Owney rode into the Albany post office atop the load of incoming mail sacks.
At first he was so glad to be back among his friends. James and Buck and the other had missed him. But after a few days he began to think about the fun he had on that train trip.
One day before long another wagon of mail went to the depot. In the back were seventeen gray mail sacks and one small brown dog. The little dog had a gleaming his bright black eyes.
This time the train went south, then west. It was five days before Owney go back to Albany, but he wasn't worried. All around him were the familiar mail sacks and kind men in postal uniforms. They fed him, an sometimes they talked about him.
"That's Owney," one man would say to another. "He belongs to the boys in the Albany office. They sent out telegrams to all the stations asking to have him sent back if we found him"
"But how did he get in our mail car?"
"When we weren't looking, I guess. He just likes to ride trains. He was on the 8:10 out of Albany. They took him off at Cleveland and put him on the northbound 3:08. They passed him on to us. We'll put him off at Rochester, and the men there will put him on the 9:19 back to Albany."
When he got back this time, Owney was even less happy to stay home. It was as thought home was not longer just the Albany post office. Home was anywhere there were mail sacks and men in gray uniforms to take care of him.
His collar now carried a metal tag with Owney's name on it and the words, "Please return to Albany Post Office."
Although he couldn't know it, Owney's fame spread throughout every post office in the United States. The men hoped to find him among the sacks whenever a load of mail came in. He was good luck, the men told each other, half kidding and half not kidding.
In a short time Owney's collar was so heavy with tags that it made him tired to hold up his head. The collar brought him a lot of attention when people were around. But when he was alone, it was just too heavy to wear. so he learned to pull it off with his front paws. Then, when he felt the train slowing for a station, he worked his head back through the collar. As the door opened he would jump down from the train in all his jingling glory.
One day a package came addressed to the postmaster, Albany Post Office. It was from Mr. Rodman Wanamaker, the postmaster general of the United States.
Inside was a beautiful harness made of soft, soft leather. "For Owney's tags," the note said.
As the years passed, the harness held many tags. There were ones from Mexico and Alaska. There were other tags from every state. Back and forth across the nation, trains rattled and roared. From the crack in the mail car door peered two bright black eyes in a shaggy face.
On a sunny morning Owney lay on a hand truck in the San Francisco railway station. It was so early, hardly anyone was about. Owney stretched and yawned and watched two young men who stood in the doorway.
They watched him, too.
They were students attending a nearby college who had spent the night playing cards with a friend. The friend had a night job in the telegraph office at the railroad station.
Together Robbie and Dan had won $34, and they were in high spirits.
"Look at that dog over there," Robbie said. "Isn't he a beauty?" he laughed.
"He wouldn't take any prizes, that's for sure," Dan answered.
The men laughed and turned away. Suddenly Dan stopped and looked slowly back at Owney.
"I just had a great idea." he said in a low, excited voice.
Owney caught the note of excitement and wagged his tail.
"Do you know what's going on today?" Dan asked. "A dog show, with hundreds of dogs form all over the country. They're all fancy show dogs. I wonder what those rich people with their fancy dogs would say if we took that dog to the show?"
Robbie looked from Dan to Owney and back again. Then he laughed. "That ugly mutt? They'd run us out of the place. But it might be fun."
"Here boy, come over there, fella," they called to Owney. Owney, sensing some fun afoot, trotted over to them. His harness jingled with every step.
Half an hour later they were waiting in a long line outside a big building. Everyone standing in line was leading or carrying a beautiful dog. There were collies and wolfhounds and Pekingese and cocker spaniels...and Owney. Robbie held Owney under his arm, so most of the little brown dog did not show.
The woman in front of them turned around and looked curiously at Owney. "What kind of dog is that?" she asked.
"He's a-he's an Egyptian otter terrier," Dan said.
The woman nodded. "Oh, yes, I believe I've heard of them. He's a fine one;"
Once she had turned away, Robbie and Dan looked at each other and laughed quietly.
When they got to the door, the man at the entry table refused to let them in. "No unentered dogs can come in," he told them.
But Robbie and Dan didn't give up so easily. They walked around the building till they found and unlocked rear door. They went in, and suddenly they were in a huge room crowded with dogs and people.
Owney wiggled in the man's arm. This place was full of smells that made him curious. He wanted to get down and run around. But Robbie held him tightly.
People stopped to look at Owney and to ask what kind of dog he was. No dog like Owney had ever been seen at the dog show before.
"He's and Anatolian Puget hound," Dan would say.
Or, "He's a curbstone setter."
Or, "He's a miniature molehound."
Before long there was a large crowd by Owney. He stared back at the people who stared at him. He didn't understand what was going on. It had started out to be fun, but he began to sense that he was being laughed at.
In all of his life, since the day the Albany post office adopted him, Owney had been surrounded by love and care. This as a new feeling, the feeling of being laughed at.
It did not feel good.
Suddenly through the crowd came and important-looking man. He wore a badge that said, "Show Chairman."
The chairman frowned at Robbie and Dan. Suddenly they left-without Owney. The chairman came closer and stared at Owney's harness full of tags.
He stood up, grinned, and scratched Owney under the chin. "So that's who you are," he said softly. "You wait here, Owney. I have some phone calls to make."
Four hours later the chairman came back for Owney. He carried him to the center of the large hall. There were a ring and bright lights and baskets of flowers.
Into the ring stepped the chairman, with Owney trotting by his side. From across the ring came another important-looking man who carried a beautifully wrapped package.
"Ladies and gentlemen." the chairman said. People who had begun to leave sat down again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special dog with us today. His name is Owney. He is the famous traveling dog from Albany, New York. May of you have heard of him. You've read newspaper articles and magazine articles about him. He has traveled by himself, to every state in the Union as well as Mexico and Alaska. I believe he was brought here today as a practical joke, so you would make fun of him.
"All of us breed fine dogs. But I speak for everyone when I say that the courage and spirit of this animal have earned him a place with the finest of champions. And so, tonight we have a very special award for Owney, the most traveled dog in the world. And here to present it is the mayor of San Francisco!"
The crowd jumped to its feet and cheered the little brown dog. The prize was a packet made to fasten to Owney's harness. Inside the packet were a dog blanket, a comb, and a brush.
Late one evening, when Owney was seven years old, he was a home in Albany. Buck and James talked about his travels as the men ate their midnight supper."There's only one place Owney hasn't been," Buck said thoughtfully.
"Where's that?"
Buck looked up at James and slowly began to smile. "Around the world."
Three hours later Owney was aboard the westbound 3:50. On his back was his traveling packet with his blanket and comb and brush. There was also a note that said, "Owney wants to go around the world."
Three days later Owney woke from a nap and sniffed the air. Behind him was the city of Tacoma, Washington. Before him was the ocean, with its salt smells. Owney was lying on mail bags that were bouncing toward the gangplank of a ship.
The little brown dog jumped down and watched with surprise.
"Go ahead, Owney," called the men around him. "You're going for a boat ride this time, instead of a train ride."He cocked his head and stared at the mail bag as they disappeared into the ship. This was new to him. But the ship smelled of exciting places. He gave one sassy bark to the men who watched him. Then he trotted up the gangplank.
The S.S. Victoria was a huge, beautiful ship. She roared and hummed and pulled away from the dock. Crowds of people stood on the deck waving good-bye, so no one noticed the little brown dog. Owney sat beside their feet and looked down at the water far, far below. This was different from the fields and cities that flashed past the train doors. The ship roared and hummed, instead of clacking as the train did.
But he was traveling, and the wind brought exciting new smells to his nose. Owney wagged his tail, unnoticed, and settled down to enjoy the trip.
After a while he grew sleepy form watching the waves. He was just closing his eyes when two huge hands picked him up. The man wore a uniform, but it was white. It was not the gray uniform of Owney's post office men.
The man in white carried Owney as though the little dog were dirty. When he stopped he was in front of a bigger man, also in a white uniform.
"Here he is, captain, just like I told you. A stray dog, on our ship." The man sounded angry.
The captain frowned down at Owney. "How in thunder did that mutt get on board? Take him below. We'll send him back to shore on the next Coast Guard boat."
"Yes, sir," said the man who held Owney.
The captain turned to go, but stopped and looked again at Owney's harness. He bent down to read the tags. Suddenly he smiled.
"This is no mutt," he said. "This is Owney. I read a story about him in the newspaper. This dog has done more traveling than you have. Take him below and feed him. Then let him have the run of the entire ship. Welcome aboard, Owney." The captain's huge hand covered Owney's head.
The day that followed were full and happy days for Owney. He ate delicious food at the captain's table in the fancy dining room. He trotted along the decks and was patted and admired by the passengers. At night he slept in the mail room in the lower part of of the ship. There he was comfortably surrounded by his mail bags and his gray-suited men.
When the Victoria docked in Japan, huge crowds were waiting to welcome it. The captain stood holding Owney under one arm. Suddenly he said to the steward, "Look, there comes the royal party."
"The emperor himself?" the steward asked.
"No," the captain said. The ambassador is heading the party. I wired the newspapers that Owney was aboard. The emperor must have heard about him and sent the ambassador."When the engines were finally still and the gangplank down, the ambassador, followed by palace guards, came aboard.
He saw Owney in the captain's arms, and he bowed low. "This is the famous traveling dog from America," he said. The ambassador held out toward Owney and important-looking paper. "We welcome you to Japan, traveling dog. We give you this honorary passport as a token of the friendship between my country and yours."
Similar honors waited for Owney in Shanghai and Singapore. Then he sailed through the Suez Canal to Port Said, then to Gibraltar and the Azores, and finally across the Atlantic Ocean to New York. In New York friendly hands put him on the fastest train to Albany.
On December 23rd Owney trotted into the Albany post office and leaped into Buck's arms. He had circled the world in 132 days.
If Owney was famous before, he was even more famous now. Photographers and reports came from the big newspapers.
"What will happen to him next? one reporter asked Buck. "Will he stay home?"
"Probably, Buck said. "Owney's not a young dog anymore."
The men laughed fondly and smiled down at Owney.
Two days later a fast freight whistled across the plains of Kansas. From the crack in the door, two bright black eyes looked out.
