The University of the Philippines in Summer

Spot watches soccer practice on a Sunday morning at the Sunken Garden.

It’s beautiful at the UP during the summer. Now if you can only keep your dogs away from accidents. . .

            I own Dalmatians. These dogs when they are young are like big Jack Russell terriers. They are like coiled springs that need to loosen up. Dalmatians were originally bred to accompany coaches and carriages as guard dogs before the arrival of the motor car. Because this horse-drawn vehicle often travel long distances, physical endurance is one of the major traits of Dalmatians. These guard dogs are built to run for miles and miles.  

Spotty was the first Dalmatian I acquired and from him I learned about his kind. I’d take him out twice a day for long walks in the neighborhood. Twice a week it would be 3 kilometer walks along the Marikina River (Marcos Highway to Sumulong Highway then back). Daily I’d run with him at our dog agility circuit when we had the dog school at a park. Just about any place which would allow dogs I’d bring him. These tiring excursions would send Spotty to his bed that night snoozing away to canine dreamland and the following days I’d see a well-behaved pet.

Old-generation trainers used to remark that the Dalmatian was slow to learn, difficult to control, and hard to train. In my opinion, they don’t know the breed. They don’t know that you can’t train a Dalmatian right away. The dog is too restless in the beginning to pay attention. Tire this dog out first with a good run. When he comes back to you worked out and spent – he’s ready to listen.

So when I saw four-year-old Toby ripping green coconut shell halves with a vengeance and leaving husks scattered around the house, that was the sign. He has twice-daily walks around the neighborhood – isn’t that enough?

            Clearly it wasn’t and now the dog was gnashing his teeth on things he could destroy.  Maybe he missed his Sunday walk in the park because his other Dalmatian packmate, my dog Spotty, and I spent an overnight at my aunt’s house out of town. So I didn’t attend to him when I got home that weekend.

            Now Toby is unleashing some nervous energy.

            I decided to give my two Dalmatians a big open space to run freely the following Sunday.

            At dawn that Sunday, I folded over the back seat of my SUV, spread an old blanket over the enlarged carpeted baggage compartment floor, packed in water and doggy emergency kit, and with Dominic and 2 excited Dalmatians in tow, we left the house very early and headed to the University of the Philippines. By 6:00am the acacia-lined academic oval of the college campus was busy with morning joggers. It was May and it was summertime. At that early hour, the sky was already brightly lit by a sun rising from the east.

            Dogs are banned from the oval where the joggers are. But along the University Avenue on the right, before you reach the Main Administration Building, you will see a wide and grassy sloping field. I drove down the wide avenue, turned right along the academic oval, then turned right again after the detour sign which the campus security erect every Sunday morning. The oval is closed to vehicular traffic so the joggers can exercise freely. I parked at the Coral Building or the Office of the Campus Architect and opened my car door to the deafening whine of cicadas from the trees around us, a sound always associated with summer after a rain the afternoon before. 

            With Dominic walking Toby on leash and I with Spotty, we led the dogs down the sprawling meadow still in soft shade. A cool breeze was in the air. The newly cut grass was loaded with morning dew.  I could hear a noisy bird cackling loudly up the tallest trees. Another bird kept hooting. Toby paused midway several times, listening attentively to the strange sounds, one foot folded in the air, bringing out the Pointer blood in him.

            Down the slopes we set the dogs free.

This is doggy heaven on earth: wide open space, no leash, a playmate, and freedom to run. 

            This is heaven for dogs yearning to stretch their legs sans confining leashes. I watched Toby’s lean body zip through the air like a coiled spring unloaded. He ran around Spotty in wide circles but my eight-year-old Dalmatian refused to be intimidated. I saw my (early) senior challenge his younger packmate and together the two spotted dogs decorated the green landscape with their games.

            A small creek snakes throughout the land. I headed there to give the gamboling dogs greater space with which to frolic. Toby’s sprints alone seemed to need a lot of space. Tall grasses line this break in the land a natural spring bubbles along. The creek yawns open at a certain portion where one can cross comfortably. I went down the rocky bank and with one step I was at the other side. Spot hopped over neatly and galloped up to join me. Dominic was behind calling Toby to follow.

            The running water of the creek collected into a small pool before traveling onward. Toby descended to the bank of that pool, saw the expanse of water and looked around for a crossing. Then Dominic gave his Recall command at that very moment. Toby heard Dominic’s voice and with eyes focused on him took a step forward. The dog plunged into the pool with a splash. The waters were neck deep.

            The fall surprised us. My Dalmatians are not water dogs. This is not a pleasant surprise for Toby.

            The dog struggled to his feet on the pool’s muddy floor and climbed up the bank muddied and dripping wet.

            But that didn’t spoil his day. At the other side of the creek Toby continued his frolic, the dogs chasing and challenging each other, enjoying the wind and open space. I watched Toby discover brown long-tailed birds hiding in the tall bushes and try to give chase as each bird flew away.

            “Toby, now you’re a hunting dog,” Dominic quipped.

            Several minutes later the sun started to cast its bright light slowly across the meadow and the long shadows shortened. We will have to go home soon. But Toby has to dry up. His nosing around and chasing the birds among the tall grasses had further dampened his fur.

            I decided to go to the “ruins.” The “ruins” are located at the distant end of the meadow. It’s a good walk under the summer morning sun to help Toby dry up. What has always piqued my curiosity were the two large signs which forbid visitors to hang around the area. The two signs faced only the street on the northern side of the meadow, its backs turned to us. I’ve glimpsed them when driving out the campus in the past. What’s over there anyway?

The "ruins" with only one signboard by the time I shot this photo.

             The strange concrete structures were nothing but the ruins of a group of small maybe two-story buildings. But only their foundations were visible which you approach by going down some steps. Dried leaves carpeted the floor as the silent markers, under the shade of wide-spreading trees, made the place almost romantic.

            I saw a few big holes in the ground, old wells probably. I turned to go back to the open meadow and Spot turned too to follow me. I forgot that the dog was off his leash.

            Then I saw it happen. Spot moved to be beside me and as he did he walked into an open well. Good thing the hole was full of water. The dog fell in with a small splash. We were surprised at the sudden accident, our second in one hour that morning. Spot submerged then rose up. He floundered at the edge, front paws hanging for life. Dominic helped pull him out of the hole because the dog couldn’t hoist himself over.

“Why didn’t you see that?” I demanded as Spot shook himself up.

There were a number of those uncovered wells here and there. Obviously, like Toby who plunged into the creek without looking, Spot also didn’t see where he was going.

            Now I know what those signs are all about. Why the hell don’t they put an enclosure around those holes??? Or put signs on the opposite side, the southern side too?

            I’m just thankful that hole wasn’t dry or the waters way down below.

Water dog  Spot after we pulled him from the well.

            Dogs – their vision isn’t as sharp as us humans. We must always look ahead (and if off leash -- think ahead), and keep an eye on them. It’s like having children with you. They need to be continuously monitored, especially if they’re unconfined.

But the trouble is, dogs remain like children all their lives.

           

            By 7:30am, the heat of summer was beginning to be felt. Time to go. Spot had a slight limp because of the pull exerted on him when we hauled him out of the well. But he gamely continued to follow me back to the car.

I brought home two damp, dirty, tired but happy dogs that had a bath when they arrived. They had their mid-morning breakfast. Then a long relaxing nap.

             The next day I was right. Toby lay about contentedly ignoring any of the items he loves to rip apart.

 Amidst the busy chirping of birds at the trees overhead and the melodious music of the UP Carillon filling the air, morning joggers work up a sweat at the 2.2 km. Academic Oval.

The famous Oblation, an iconic symbol of the university.  Its original version, made of concrete,  was a naked man but to "promote morality and censorship" a later version added a fig leaf. . . The original statue, created by National Artist Guillermo E. Tolentino in 1935, can be found at the 3rd floor of the University Main Library. The Oblation statue stands 3.3 meters tall. It stands at the front of the Main Administration Building, greeting visitors entering the campus via the University Avenue.

The UP Carillon Tower along the Academic Oval fills the morning air with pleasant tinkling music. The bronze bells play from local folk songs and anthems to the Beatles.

The dogs inspect the creek. At the background above runs the tree-lined Academic Oval.

Looking for birds to chase -- or looking for trouble.

Toby enjoys his freedom as a city dog. Across the creek are the "ruins."

A dew-soaked Spot passes by a common weed locally called "Makahia" (Mimosa pudica) or Sensitive Plant. The plant's fern-like leaves fold before your eyes upon being touched. The leaves open again a few minutes later.
Spot wears a neon pink collar (Toby's is orange) with a small bag attached to it; inside are poop bags and some small change (for my use). The other collar in the photo is a flea collar. Under Spot's blue collar bag dangles his metal ID.

The dogs end their morning exercise under a Golden Shower (Cassia fistula). A summertime tree, the Golden Shower bears cylindrical dark-brown pods, one to two feet long, which furnish the ingredient of a purgative drug.

The Sunken Garden located behind the UP Main Library reportedly sinks 2 inches every year. This is due to either underground trenches connecting to the Marikina Fault line which passes a few miles outside the campus, or to empty streams that used to be there in the 1950s.  The 5-hectare field is now a favorite venue for sports tournaments, fairs, and military drills.