Chummy

                                         A Boy, His Dog and Golf Balls

   I have told this story many times to family. friends and many fellow golfers. They have enjoyed it and encouraged me to write this story to preserve it and share it with others.

      In 1936, at age 11, we lived in a rural community, in a home on ten acres of land with fruit trees, large evergreens and pasture. My family consisted of  Mom, Dad, four sisters. myself and our dog  Chummy. Our nearest neighbor was more than a block away. It was a great place to grow up and enjoy the beauty and peace of nature.

   In the spring of 1934, my first dog died of old age and was replaced  by a small German Spitz we named ''Chummy''. He was a very intellegent dog and soon learned to do all the normal tricks, to chase his tail, sit up on his hind legs, roll over, jump through a hoop and more.

One of my daily chores was to keep the kitchen wood stove supplied with wood for heat, hot water and cooking. This wood was split 2'' x 2'' x 14'' for burning size. It was necessary that I keep the wood box next to the kitchen stove full to keep the home fires burning. It required only a few days to train Chummy to go about 50 feet to the wood shed and pick up one piece of wood in his mouth, go into the house, get up on his hind legs and drop it in the box until it was full. This required  that the kitchen door remain open to flying insects. Mom soon cancelled this plan. Dad came to the rescue by installing small wheels on the bottom of the woodbox, 30'' deep x 22'' wide x 18'', so I could roll it outside for Chummy to fill. Upon completion, Chummy  would bark to let us know the job was done and recieve his payment of food.

        In the summer of 1936, my older sister and her boyfriend began playing golf together.Occasionally, they would practice hitting golf balls in our pasture. Chummy started to locate them and return these golf balls. I noticed he could not see the balls,he would circle the area, nose to the ground smelling them out. The circle becoming smaller and smaller and soon his tail wagged vigorously and I knew he had found one. I started hitting golf balls out in the pasture and Chummy never failed to find them and return them to me. I told my dad of Chummy's new-found talent and he mentioned a couple of retired friends who lived near Jackson Golf Course in North Seattle. They had trained two Cocker Spaniels to hunt golf balls. Dad took me to visit these friends and I was impressed with the number of golf balls thier dogs would find, depending on how often they had hunted in a specific area. I was very excited and anxious to get Chummy on the out-of-bounds area of a golf course and earn my own spending money.

   My first problem of transportation for Chummy and me was solved by building a box to fit the luggage rack over the rear tire of my new World bike. With the help of my dad , we built a box approximately 12 inches wide. 20 inches long and 16 inches deep. We used a U bolt to attach it to the luggage rack on the back of the bike. I put an old wool shirt in the bottom of the box and we were off exploring the neighborhood. Chummy sat with his rear end in the bottom of the box, front legs extended, nose high in the air (see photo). He had no fear and never attempted to jump out,even when other dogs were around. he just barked at them.. On our return home I would lift him out of the box and place him on the ground and he would run around the yard for a couple of minutes. He repeated this procedure every time thereafter. I was never sure if it was a form of exercise or his joy in getting out of the box, but he was always eager to get back in the box whenever I hopped on my bike.

   It was time to test Chummy on the golf course. My mom gave me two boxes of animal crackers for us to enjoy. Upon arriving at the Juanita golf course, I started along fairway #1, a long par 4 with out-of-bounds the full length of the fairway. I tied Chummy to a tree and out of his sight hid three golf balls in the brush and grass. Then I untied him and led him within 10 feet of the balls. His nose went down and tail went up and he found all three  within 1 minute. I gave him animal crackers as payment. This was very exciting to me as we ended the day with a bag full of golf balls and two empty boxes of animal crackers. I, of course,  had my share,  eating one each time Chummy found a ball.

   Upon our return home , I was extremely proud to show my parents the inventory of our first day of golf ball hunting. Many of these balls had been covered with grass, even partially buried in dirt or mud. They were dirty and discolored yellow or light brown, and no matter how hard I scrubbed with soap and water they remained stained. My mom suggested soaking them in a bleach solution. I do not remember the ratio of water to bleach , but I know I peeled the paint off a number of balls before I had the right ratio. After several hours, generally overnight, I rinsed and dried them and rubbed them with household wax paper to give them the shine of a new ball and they were ready for market. If a ball had been in the mud for a long period of time, it would lose some of its distance off the tee, it was like hitting a rock.  These I saved for my school golfing friends, especially those who had not paid me for the last number of balls I gave them.

   It was always necessary to keep Chummy on a six foot leash. He never did learn to recognize the out-of-bound markers and the golf balls he could see lying in the middle of the fairway he considered an easy find and an animal cracker payment.

   Our favorite hunting area was a long par 5 with a sixty foot water hole from the tee Marshland on the left and out-of-bounds on the right. Most golfers would aim away from the marsh and with an open faced club would drive into the woods. This is also where we sold the prior days find all clean and shinny. Sales price ranges from 10 to 50 cents each.

   Chummy became quite a celebrity to the golfers, many would wave and ask how many he had found that day. And when a potential buyer approached, Chummy would sit on his behind next to me and give a big smile and wag his tail. I almost believe he knew that the silver coins I recieved were the same I gave the grocer man for his animal crackers and food.

   When I became sixteen in 1941, the bike was replaced with my father's 1940 Studebaker, whenever I could borrow it on weekends. Weekdays were now filled with school, part-time work at the Kirkland shipyards and my dad's flooring business. That October I  met  in high school a pretty girl named Rosemary. She worked and lived at a home overlooking the sixth fairway of the Juanita Golf Course. Whenever her work scedule permited , she would join me at the golf course, usually bringing Chummy something to eat, and  with a lot of petting , she and Chummy  became good friends, even though he was relegated to the back seat of the Studebaker.

   In July of 1943, I enlisted in the Air Force and my beloved Chummy stayed with my sister, In September of that year. Chummy wandered off looking for his old golf ball hunting buddy, and was never seen again.

   When I started to write this story in the year of 2000, Rosemary and I went back to refresh our memories on the old Juanita Golf Course, now a city park, greens and sandtraps filled and reseeded. Much to our supprise we found a bench which had been ordered and donated by our daughter Patty and her family, It contained a bronze plaque reading ''In Loving Honor of Carl Niese and his dog Chummy.'' Tears were shed in gratitude. As we walked up the old number nine fairway, we stopped to reminisce and enjoy the beautiful view of the park, marshlands and Lake Washington. we said , thanks Chummy, for all the happy memories.   

   We hope you enjoyed Chummy's story and we are pleased to share it with you. Any funds recieved from this story will be donated to the Humane Society. Please join us in support of this fine organization.

                                                    Carl

       To our Fellow Senior Golfers

     Here are the names of some of the old 1930 and 1940 golf balls you may have hit into the rough or woods for Chummy to find.

       Round Dimples,  Spalding Dot, Max Flite, Pudo,

      Kroyton,Dunlop Star, Gold Cup, Wilson K-28

     Square Dimples - US Royal,  Silver King( mfg in England)

    Diamond  Dimples - US Royal Special

   These are the names of some of the old Golf Clubs you may have used to hit those big hooks or slices .

        Wood Shafts-    Spalding,   Wilson ,  Walter Hagen

       Metal Shafts-     Wright&Ditson,  Kroflite,  McGregor,

      Walter Hagen,     Bobby Jones,  Kroydon,  Wilson,   Tom Stewart,

      Spalding, Burke Arrow Flite,      Vardon,  Gene Sarazen,   

     Booge Line

    Words of wisdom from an old friend and retired golf profesional. During your back swing, follow through, in flight and in landing, keep your eyes on the ball and you will not lose so many.

       Any comments may be sent to

                  Chummy

                  P.O.Box 325

                  9594 First Ave. N.E. 

                  Seattle,Wa. 98115-2028