Notes from Barb: More about Mack

Mack
(From the back of the photo: "A gentleman dog in every way!"

Last time I told you about Mack and the dog-sled race. As I said, Mack took his doggie-duties very seriously . . . and that got him into trouble. He loved the command, "Sic 'em!" and would act menacing with bared teeth and growls, sometimes adding a little nip if he deemed it necessary. (Nobody teaches his dog that command today.) He knew the property line and woe to trespassers. Basically, he was a conservative bigot who would not tolerate anyone who HE did not think was "normal". This included people with beards, people with packages, different clothing, alcohol breath, or anyone running, to name a few of the intolerables. He did love our mailman and greeted him with leaps and yelps, then accompanied him on part of his route. Then we got a new mailman who was frightened of Mack's warm welcome and kicked the dog in the face . . . and so then the war was on! Father wasn't about to go to the downtown post office daily for our mail. The U. S. Postal Service can be formidable enemy. Then someone shot at the dog, so we knew we were in trouble.

A family friend, Mr. Schnuckle, owned the Zenith Broom Factory in west Duluth and he needed a good watch dog. He had purchased a German shepherd for the job but that did not work out. So he suggested we trade dogs. I guess our childish loyalty was less that skin deep as we were delighted to get a dog that looked exactly like Rin Tin Tin, the movie hero (canine) of the day. Oh boy, look what we got!

So Mack went to the broom factory and we got Rudulph! He did look like the real thing, . . . but he would not go out with us . . . all he did was sleep. And we found out in the first few hours that Rudolph was "paper-trained". The sight of any recumbent paper triggered his inner mechanism. Now Papa was not neat when he read the paper, so soon as he finished the sports section, Rudolph got to it. His popularity went ziltch! The second day we had him, Mom sent me to the grocery store for a length of butcher's paper in which to wrap some clothes for storage. She put the paper on the bedroon floor while she folded the garments sprinkling pepper and moth balls on them. Rudolph saw the paper. I saw Rudolph. To save the paper, I yanked it out from under the dog, sending him and his deposit flying all over the bedroom. And who do you think got bawled out? ME! Not Moma who was stupid enough to put the paper on the floor and not Rudolph who defiled it. No, it was MY fault! I hated them both for such gross unfairness.

On the third day Rudolph took off and found his way home in a few days. When Mom called Mr. S to report that his dog had left, she was told that Mack had chewed off his rope and was also gone. Mr. S said he had driven Mack all over town to "lose" hin so he would not find his way. It worked and Mack was lost. He also said that Mack was just too good as a watch dog and would not let the emplyees into the factory.

All our loyalty to Mack returned with a rush. It was a bitterly cold winter and our dear dog was lost. We had an ad in the paper for two weeks offering a liberal reward. Many people called and said the had found the dog so Papa took the street-car to check each one out. Black dogs, white dogs, tiny dogs . . . all "look exactly like your description". Papa's patience wore thin. One man called saying he had run over a collie-type dog but further talk proved it was not Mack. He and my dad talked long on every dog they had ever known. (Dog lovers are like that!) Fortunately this man kept the phone number because weeks later he called to say that a dog that seemed like ours was living in his haystack . . . an unfriendly dog who hid when anyone appeard and only came out to eat the food this kind man put out for him.

So once again Papa hit the trail in search of Mack. Yes, it has him! And he wasn't about to get separated again so almost tore down the phone booth when Papa called to say they were on the way home. It was 20 below zero that night so when a street-car came by, empty, Papa asked if he could ride with the dog. No way. No permit. But if they got off when and if anyone else got on? No permit, no ride. So Papa and Mack walked in that cold from 57th Ave. W. and Grand to 14th ave. E. and 9th.(Ed. note: For those not familiar with Duluth, that is a walk of seven miles.) Mom woke us when they got home and what a reunion that was! Everyone including the dog cried with joy. The basic problem was solved soon as we  moved to Two Harbors where Mack got a fresh start in a new territory.