Downeast Dog News

Ask Bammy, an Advice Column for Dogs by a Dog

By Nancy Holmes | Dec 01, 2017

I am a Carolina Dog, a breed that long ago owned Native American people. We were designed by natural selection to be so intelligent and physically superior that we survived without humans. My great-grandfather was caught from the wild. I can offer advice based on the natural instincts and abilities of wild dogs. My human and I have had lots of training classes and other experiences. Some humans call themselves Mom or Dad of their dog, but I call my human, tongue in cheek, Boss. Much as I love her, I admit she has many of the same odd notions as most humans, so I can relate to other dogs with problem humans. If I can’t help, at least I can offer sympathy, and we can have fun talking about our amazing humans. Please send your questions! Bammy, 280 Pond Rd. Newcastle, ME 04553, or email:


My friend Eddie from New York City e-mailed me:


Hi Bammy,

I’m writing to tell you wonderful news! My whole family went on a hunting trip to Maine.

We often have a difficult time getting our human companions interested in hunting with us as a pack, but I experienced it and I have to tell you it was wonderful fun.

When we got to the house I could smell lots of mice and I zeroed in on a dresser. My sister Lulu was right there with me. I barked and barked, but the humans were busy doing things with the beds and stove and refrigerator.

Finally, I got their attention. They moved the dresser out from the wall, and Lulu and I raced in behind it. Then they started opening the drawers. I was dancing in circles and jumping up, I was so excited. They opened a drawer and pulled out a big long case they called a "chess set" and put it on the floor.

It was full of mice! Before they could do anything I caught them all and shook them and flung them around the room. The humans were so proud of me. My sister Lulu had one in her mouth that I had already killed. She's not quite as fast as me. It was a great night for all of us.

After that the humans didn't seem interested in more hunting, but Lulu and I went all around the house and into the woods. We found many more mice than I ever find in summer. I guess that's why they call it "hunting season."

I hope you're having happy hunting,

Your friend "from away,"


(Thanks to Susan L. Roberts, MDiv, OTR/L, Eddie’s Personal Assistant and Typist.)


Dear Eddie,

What a wonderful hunting story! I haven’t had any luck hunting lately, but Boss and I are trapping. When I hear the mousetrap upstairs snap, I run to the stairs barking. Boss lets me go up and I proudly bring down our latest trophy. If they aren’t quite dead, I take care of that for her, too. She doesn’t like to kill things.

My big news is the huge storm we had. When the power flickers, there’s a man with a loud voice hiding up by the telephone. Boss calls him “Just-the-answering-machine;” but he isn’t answering anything I can hear. And where is he hiding? I can’t smell him. When he talks, Pookah, my pack-mate, and I worry about thunder, but it was just howling wind.

Before it got light, things were crashing outdoors, and a big truck booming and chainsaws. Pook was so scared she woke Boss by trying to crawl in bed with her. We all got up while it was dark, and Boss lighted candles and walked around with a flashlight as if we were outdoors. For six days the house was dim in the evening and smelled of candles. Boss fussed with pails of water and the woodstove and the refrigerator and freezer. She brought a very noisy engine thing like a wheelbarrow into the yard and dragged extension cords through the house.

You know it takes a lot to scare me, but I had to keep close tabs on Boss because I could tell she was worried. When the lights came on again, Boss bounced round making happy noises. That scared Pookah again, but of course I knew Boss was happy, so I danced, too.

Come back to Maine soon,