Got this on another board. Enjoy 
From another list -- this should be called "What not to do when carting"
Me and the girls (my packhiking sammies and my min-pin, who could be the
first packhiking min-pin ever) have seen some incredible things when we go
packhiking. The story is somewhat graphic in nature, so I've left a lot of
that kind of stuff out. Use your own imagination.
We were hoofing it through the Cleveland metroparks with about two miles
left on our ten mile hike, and we came up to a picnic pavilion area.
Off to the left were several portable toilets, porta potties, and one was
being used in a very unusual fashion. There was some sort of training cart
parked next to the porta potty, with four Siberian husky-malamute looking
dogs in harnesses, all hooked to one gang line (I think that is what it is
called).
The gang line was probably 20 feet long, and went directly into the door of
the porta potty. The dogs were not hooked to the training cart at all, so
it appeared they were out on a port o' let sled riding mission. I can only
assume there was no way to anchor the cart and dogs while the driver was
taking care of business, so she got the brilliant idea to just take the gang
line into the porta potty and hold on to the dogs while she accomplished her
goal.
You are probably thinking the exact same thoughts I was when I saw this
little set up: Recipe for disaster. And of course this story wouldn't
really be worth typing if it ended with the woman coming out and driving off
with her dogs into the sunset.
I am fishing for my digital camera to take a picture of the porta
potty-pulling team when my dogs yank their leashes, almost
toppling me over. A squirrel has decided to stop nearby, pick up a nut and
chow it while my three dogs watch. So far the four sled dogs haven't seen
the squirrel, but it is only a matter of time, as my dogs are doing the "If
I wasn't on this leash I would kick that squirrel's a##" dance.
Sure enough, the potty pullers' heads all snap to the direction of the
squirrel, and they all appear to get the same idea as my three straining at
their leashes. My dogs see those dogs spot the squirrel, and some sort of
dog tribal hunting non-verbal communication thing happens, as every one of
the seven dogs on either end of the field realizes that its pretty much a
race to see which of the two groups can get to the squirrel faster.
My dogs redouble their pulling efforts, and the four dog sled team reacted
as one, and lung full steam for the squirrel. The porta potty sort of spins
about 30 degrees and rocks like the dickens. Luckily, it doesn't tip over,
but kind of rocks back and forth a time or two and then rights itself.
Well, that is just unacceptable to the sled team, and they give another huge
yank. The porta potty spins yet again, and from inside some sort of human
screech occurs.
The screech seemed to slow the sled dogs down and they settled into a
nervous stand. At this point the squirrel decided the dogs weren't going to
get him so he started doing some kind of "na,na,na can't get me" dance,
infuriating the porta potty pullers. If you ever wondered why dog sleds are
built long and low to the ground, as opposed to small and tall, like, say,
the shape of a porta potty, you need no longer wonder if this is a design
flaw.
Anyhow, the pulling and barking started up again. The porta potty did its
best to stay standing, rocking heavily back and forth. The dogs, sensing
victory, forgot completely about the squirrel, and started timing their
pulls with the rocking, and of course triumphantly gave one last tug and
yanked the porta potty over. For some reason, they just stopped pulling
after the porta potty settled on the ground. (I'm not sure what happened to
the squirrel at this point, although if he was anything like that insurance
commercial where the two squirrels make the car wreck and high five each
other, then my guess is he ran off into
the woods to get his friends so he could show them what he'd accomplished.)
From the porta potty came a series of cuss words unrepeatable in this story,
so I figured I'd better see if I could help. The porta potty unfortunately
had landed face down, meaning the door was now the bottom. I tied my dogs to
a tree, and ventured toward the port o let. I asked if the occupant was
ok. She said yes, in a lot more colorful and verbal way than just yes, but
for the purposes of this story we'll just say she said yes.
The porta potty hadn't faired as well. You could tell it was hurt because
there was a lot of blue fluid leaking from it. I told the woman that I
would have to roll the porta potty on its side to get the door open and she
should find something to hang on to. Well a couple good shoves later, the
thing rolled 90 degrees and the door was exposed.
The door opened and out crawled a blue mama smurf, covered with the blue
blood of the dying porta potty. Her dogs came running and decided she
needed a bath. About this point she realized that step 10 in the bathroom
process entitled "put your pants back on" had been skipped, so she
disappeared back into the porta potty.
Well, she was in absolutely no mood to talk about her ride on the wild side,
which I didn't blame her, so she got the short version of what had happened
outside and I spared her the indignity of having to recite what happened
from inside. I helped her hook her dogs back up to the cart looking thing,
and off she went, glowing blue as she went drove down the path and back into
the woods.
I can't imagine what all the other visitors thought as they walked serenely
through the park and were passed by a pissed off blue smurf and her merry
band of blue-tongued dogs.
From another list -- this should be called "What not to do when carting"
Me and the girls (my packhiking sammies and my min-pin, who could be the
first packhiking min-pin ever) have seen some incredible things when we go
packhiking. The story is somewhat graphic in nature, so I've left a lot of
that kind of stuff out. Use your own imagination.
We were hoofing it through the Cleveland metroparks with about two miles
left on our ten mile hike, and we came up to a picnic pavilion area.
Off to the left were several portable toilets, porta potties, and one was
being used in a very unusual fashion. There was some sort of training cart
parked next to the porta potty, with four Siberian husky-malamute looking
dogs in harnesses, all hooked to one gang line (I think that is what it is
called).
The gang line was probably 20 feet long, and went directly into the door of
the porta potty. The dogs were not hooked to the training cart at all, so
it appeared they were out on a port o' let sled riding mission. I can only
assume there was no way to anchor the cart and dogs while the driver was
taking care of business, so she got the brilliant idea to just take the gang
line into the porta potty and hold on to the dogs while she accomplished her
goal.
You are probably thinking the exact same thoughts I was when I saw this
little set up: Recipe for disaster. And of course this story wouldn't
really be worth typing if it ended with the woman coming out and driving off
with her dogs into the sunset.
I am fishing for my digital camera to take a picture of the porta
potty-pulling team when my dogs yank their leashes, almost
toppling me over. A squirrel has decided to stop nearby, pick up a nut and
chow it while my three dogs watch. So far the four sled dogs haven't seen
the squirrel, but it is only a matter of time, as my dogs are doing the "If
I wasn't on this leash I would kick that squirrel's a##" dance.
Sure enough, the potty pullers' heads all snap to the direction of the
squirrel, and they all appear to get the same idea as my three straining at
their leashes. My dogs see those dogs spot the squirrel, and some sort of
dog tribal hunting non-verbal communication thing happens, as every one of
the seven dogs on either end of the field realizes that its pretty much a
race to see which of the two groups can get to the squirrel faster.
My dogs redouble their pulling efforts, and the four dog sled team reacted
as one, and lung full steam for the squirrel. The porta potty sort of spins
about 30 degrees and rocks like the dickens. Luckily, it doesn't tip over,
but kind of rocks back and forth a time or two and then rights itself.
Well, that is just unacceptable to the sled team, and they give another huge
yank. The porta potty spins yet again, and from inside some sort of human
screech occurs.
The screech seemed to slow the sled dogs down and they settled into a
nervous stand. At this point the squirrel decided the dogs weren't going to
get him so he started doing some kind of "na,na,na can't get me" dance,
infuriating the porta potty pullers. If you ever wondered why dog sleds are
built long and low to the ground, as opposed to small and tall, like, say,
the shape of a porta potty, you need no longer wonder if this is a design
flaw.
Anyhow, the pulling and barking started up again. The porta potty did its
best to stay standing, rocking heavily back and forth. The dogs, sensing
victory, forgot completely about the squirrel, and started timing their
pulls with the rocking, and of course triumphantly gave one last tug and
yanked the porta potty over. For some reason, they just stopped pulling
after the porta potty settled on the ground. (I'm not sure what happened to
the squirrel at this point, although if he was anything like that insurance
commercial where the two squirrels make the car wreck and high five each
other, then my guess is he ran off into
the woods to get his friends so he could show them what he'd accomplished.)
From the porta potty came a series of cuss words unrepeatable in this story,
so I figured I'd better see if I could help. The porta potty unfortunately
had landed face down, meaning the door was now the bottom. I tied my dogs to
a tree, and ventured toward the port o let. I asked if the occupant was
ok. She said yes, in a lot more colorful and verbal way than just yes, but
for the purposes of this story we'll just say she said yes.
The porta potty hadn't faired as well. You could tell it was hurt because
there was a lot of blue fluid leaking from it. I told the woman that I
would have to roll the porta potty on its side to get the door open and she
should find something to hang on to. Well a couple good shoves later, the
thing rolled 90 degrees and the door was exposed.
The door opened and out crawled a blue mama smurf, covered with the blue
blood of the dying porta potty. Her dogs came running and decided she
needed a bath. About this point she realized that step 10 in the bathroom
process entitled "put your pants back on" had been skipped, so she
disappeared back into the porta potty.
Well, she was in absolutely no mood to talk about her ride on the wild side,
which I didn't blame her, so she got the short version of what had happened
outside and I spared her the indignity of having to recite what happened
from inside. I helped her hook her dogs back up to the cart looking thing,
and off she went, glowing blue as she went drove down the path and back into
the woods.
I can't imagine what all the other visitors thought as they walked serenely
through the park and were passed by a pissed off blue smurf and her merry
band of blue-tongued dogs.
