vizsla — Page 6 — Intrepid Pup

Turtles, Goslings & Lily Pads, Oh My!

May 11, 2012 by admin

Tavish at the lily ponds. The hardy and tropical water lilies were blooming, little jewels of color amid the emerald green pads. Surrounding many of the ponds are irises, but the yellow variety is invasive. It is still too early for the lotus blossoms that are hallmarks of the summer months.

Even if today wasn’t National Public Gardens Day, we’d be touting Kenilworth Park & Aquatic Gardens. Did you know that it’s the only National Park Service site devoted to the cultivation and care of aquatic plants?

The precise story behind Kenilworth is one you couldn’t make up if you tried. Walter B. Shaw was a Civil War veteran who had lost his right arm in the fighting. He settled in Washington, D.C., securing a job as a Treasury Department clerk after teaching himself to write left-handed. Outside of government work, however, Shaw’s true love was water lilies. Eager to propagate them, he secured a dozen specimens from his home state of Maine and placed them in an unused ice pond on his 30 acres. When his hobby outgrew the one pond, he simply built more ponds until—under the auspices of the newly established W. B. Shaw Lily Ponds—he was successfully collecting exotic varieties, experimenting with hybrids, and commercially shipping plants nationwide. His daughter Helen Shaw Fowler joined him in his business ventures, and together they opened the gardens for the public’s enjoyment. Under Helen’s careful stewardship, the gardens expanded even further after Shaw’s death in 1921, and literally thousands of visitors a day (including President and Mrs. Coolidge!) flocked to marvel at the aquatic blooms during the summer months.

Fast forward to the 1930s and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers was faced with dredging the silt-choked Anacostia River, an act that would have signaled the demise of the gardens. Helen fought the plans and an accord was reached in 1938 when Congress allocated $15,000 to purchase eight acres of the gardens for public preservation. Helen continued to live on the property until her death in 1953 but taught Fred Lundy, a gardener with the National Park Service, how to care for the water lilies. The Park Service eventually took over management of the garden and renamed it Kenilworth to reflect the name of the broader community. Today the park consists of 45 ponds of water lilies across 12 acres, enveloped by another 70 acres of freshwater tidal marshlands.

Midday yesterday Tavish the Intrepid Pup was eager to start exploring, and everything about his body language screamed, “What magical place is this, anyway?” Talk about sensory overload! At the lily ponds there were Canada geese (and therefore also a lot of goose droppings). We’d been advised by the park ranger when we arrived that there were several fledglings about, so we kept our distance. Tavish was actually pretty unphased by these tawny goslings paddling by…because there were BUTTERFLIES! And FROGS! Ok, so technically we never saw a frog, but from the blurs of color and the loud splooshing sounds, we could tell they were big. It was great fun watching Tavish try to anticipate where the next blur and sploosh would come from. Oh, and the TURTLES! There were a few small painted turtles perched on logs, but they had nothing on the dinner platter-sized snapping turtles hanging out sunbathing at the ponds’ edges. These guys were perceptive and before we could come within ten paces it was like those targets in a county fair shooting gallery where each toppled in succession with an unceremonious plunk. Invariably we were rewarded with a closer look when a few poked their heads back up out of the muddy water.

Though hard to disengage Tavish from the endless fascinations of the lily ponds, we did finally make it onto the River Trail (note: NOT a loop; it’s 0.7 miles each way). It meanders in a northwesterly direction among the thick scent of honeysuckle and then follows the bend of the Anacostia River for a stretch. It ends at the inlet into the marsh itself, which is where you’d enter Kenilworth if coming by kayak or canoe. You never fully escape the incessant thrum of car traffic careening by on Route 50, punctuated by the occasional clatter of an Amtrak train crossing the railroad bridge. Where this might be overtly annoying in another setting, in a strange way, the noise serves notice that this fragile environment struggles to exist in spite of urban encroachment.

Returning to the lily ponds, we set out in the opposite direction onto the extensive boardwalk. Signs along the trail have faded considerably, but on this sunny, breezy afternoon we didn’t exactly need a plaque to tell us that the fish and tadpoles were plentiful. Tavish kept poking his head through the railing to watch them. Red-winged blackbirds darted among the tall grasses, and a great blue heron soared above. Just another spectacular day in the marsh.

Dogging the Details

38°54′45.50″N, 76°56′31.24″W
Kenilworth Park & Aquatic Gardens, Washington, DC

It can be a little tricky navigating this residential area in northeast Washington to find the proper entrance to the aquatic gardens, so if you have GPS, use it!

Intrepid Pup has been to Kenilworth before, but it really pays to be a repeat visitor. While the walking trails are always nice, the visual appeal of the ponds changes dramatically throughout the seasons.

When we stopped in at the visitor center to snag a map, the Park Service ranger—a helpful young woman who, come to find out, was getting married this weekend at another National Park—was genuinely pleased to see us and remarked, “Kenilworth definitely welcomes leashed dogs!” The dog-friendly trails and scenery earn Kenilworth a “2” on the Intrepid Pup wag-a-meter. Of course, the general courtesy about cleaning up after your dog still very much applies, and there are waste receptacles conveniently located throughout the front section of the gardens (though not so much on the River Trail or boardwalk sections). Tavish stayed in the vestibule of the Visitor Center as dogs aren’t permitted inside, but there is a small bookshop and a series of compact displays about the importance of the wetlands and the history of Kenilworth—from use as the fishing grounds of the Nacotchtank peoples through to the present day.

Walk every step of the grounds around the various ponds, out-and-back on the River Trail, and along the boardwalk, and you’ll be lucky to have eked out 2 miles. But you’ll easily have whiled away an hour or two, especially if you have a curious pup intently stalking every lily pad fluttering in the breeze!

Adventures in Reading: “Hallelujah!”

May 8, 2012 by admin

Beth Ellen* is nine years old and thinks Tavish is “reallllly silly…and I like silly.” She’s a regular in reading to Tavish at the local library. Yes, when the Intrepid Pup isn’t off exploring parks, trails, and museums, he’s often going to senior living centers, schools, and libraries through a pet visitation program run by the DC-based non-profit organization P.A.L. (For a more comprehensive article on Tavish’s work as an AKC-certified Therapy Dog, click here.)

On this particular evening Beth Ellen is reading aloud from an illustrated chapter book she’d selected, and she’s adding considerable flair to the dialogue. So when the chapter ends with one of the characters exclaiming about an achievement, Beth Ellen delivers the line with similar gusto: “Hallelujah!” she shouts. Tavish chooses this precise instant to pop up with a full-body wriggle and give Beth Ellen a lick on the cheek. She’s so enthralled by this reaction to her dramatic reading that she’s momentarily speechless. She then grins widely and says, “I soooo want to say that word again, but I don’t know what’ll happen.” She reaches for Tavish’s collar, looks him in the eye and whispers, “Tavish, Hallelujah!” And wouldn’t you know it? Tavish licks her again, tail now wagging at full speed. Beth Ellen dissolves into a fit of giggles repeating, “Hallelujah, Tavish. Hallelujah!” as he nuzzles her hair. It’s a safe bet that this moment is one Beth Ellen won’t soon forget and will always associate with the joy of reading.

This week—May 7-13, 2012—is Children’s Book Week (CBW). It promotes the notion that “children’s books and literacy are life-changers,” and if Tavish’s experiences with young readers are any indication, it’s a pretty sound premise. CBW’s origins date to 1913, when librarian Franklin K. Matthiews toured the country proposing that publishers, libraries and booksellers support a Children’s Book Week as a way to encourage higher standards in children’s literature. By 1919 his vision had become a reality: CBW was an annual celebration well on its way to becoming the country’s longest-running literacy initiative. Today Every Child A Reader: The CBC Foundation coordinates CBW events in more than 40 cities from coast to coast to instill a lifelong love of reading.

Tavish has seen and listened to a LOT of children’s books. In the past year, more than 105 different children have read to him…even in Spanish! And because Team Tavish hears the stories, too, we’ve compiled a list (by no means intended to be exhaustive) of several that appeal to the Intrepid Pup’s mindset for adventure, are charmingly written, and beautifully illustrated…in other words, storybooks we don’t mind listening to time and time again:

A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond
The Biggest Bear by Lynd Ward
The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes by Du Bose Heyward
Frederick by Leo Lionni
Gaspard and Lisa at the Museum by Anne Gutman and Georg Hallensleben
Hannah’s Collection by Marthe Jocelyn
Madeline’s Rescue by Ludwig Bemelmans
Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel by Virginia Lee Burton
Miss Renée’s Mice by Elizabeth Stokes Hoffman
One-Dog Canoe by Mary Casanova
One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey
Paddle to the Sea by Holling Clancy Holling
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
Rosebud and Red Flannel by Ethel Pochocki
Stuart Little by E. B. White

So, in the spirit of Children’s Book Week, grab a storybook and start reading. “Hallelujah!”

*Child’s name has been changed to protect privacy

Filed Under: Pet-Assisted Therapy Tagged With: books, Children's Book Week, dog, intrepid pup, kids, literacy, reading, Tavish, vizsla

A Synagogue’s Moving Story

May 1, 2012 by admin

Now that the calendar has flipped to May, the national observance of Jewish American Heritage Month has begun. President George W. Bush first enacted it in April 2006, and it’s been an annual celebration ever since.

Apropos of the month, Tavish the Intrepid Pup recently visited Washington, DC’s first Adas Israel Synagogue, now home to the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington‘s (JHSGW) Lillian and Albert Small Jewish Museum. The next time you’re zipping along (or sitting in traffic?) on I-395 near Massachusetts Avenue in the District, cast a glance high up on the west side of the interstate to catch a glimpse of it. Better yet, go visit!

This just so happens to be the oldest synagogue building in the nation’s capital. On the day we stopped by, both JHSGW’s education specialist Lisa and long-time archivist Wendy were on hand, and it was clear from conversing with them that the story of this synagogue is relevant to Jewish and non-Jewish audiences alike.

On one level, it’s an immigrant saga that has played out in countless cities throughout the country. In this case, the year is 1873, and 38 families among a rapidly growing Jewish community yearn for a permanent home for their Adas Israel congregation, which had split from Washington Hebrew in 1869. They enlist Max Kleinman and J. William & Co. to design and build a two-story brick synagogue at the corner of Sixth & G Streets, NW.

But here’s where an otherwise very local story intersects with the national stage. After years of planning and construction, the Adas Israel Synagogue’s completion is celebrated in 1876 with a three-hour Orthodox service. President Ulysses S. Grant is there, making him the first U.S. president to attend a synagogue service. While having a sitting president at a grand opening is a coup by any standard, Grant’s presence in particular is both significant and highly intentional on the part of the synagogue’s founders. Back in December 1862, while still serving as Union general in the Civil War, Grant issues “General Orders #11” calling for the expulsion of Jews from all territories under his command as a means of cracking down on black marketeers. President Abraham Lincoln quickly intervenes to overrule Grant’s astonishingly ill-conceived order, and Grant is scathingly criticized for anti-Semitism. The scandal festers throughout Grant’s 1868 presidential campaign and presidency (1869-1877). Through his many conciliatory actions, Grant eventually restores much of his integrity with the Jewish community nationally, and his attendance at Adas Israel in 1876 is met favorably. (Note: Historian Jonathan D. Sarna has just come out with a book on the subject entitled, When Grant Expelled the Jews and will be presenting a lecture and book signing with JHSGW later this week.)

On another level, the synagogue’s story reflects the changes in a congregation and in a neighborhood. The congregation ends up outgrowing the synagogue in less than 30 years and by 1906 sells the building. As part of an ethnically diverse neighborhood full of row houses and small businesses owned by African American, Chinese, Irish, Italian, German, Greek, Jewish and Russian families, it’s little wonder that the synagogue structure gets redefined in myriad ways throughout the 20th century. Other religious denominations use the space and, ironically, for a time there’s even a pork BBQ joint on the first floor!

Ultimately, though, the synagogue’s legacy is one of successful historic preservation. When the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (aka Metro) bought the land at Sixth & G Streets for building its headquarters, the Adas Israel Synagogue building seemed destined for a wrecking ball. The JHSGW, formed by volunteers in 1960, recognized the synagogue’s importance as a designated DC historic landmark and sprang into action to save it. In 1969, JHSGW had the synagogue moved in its entirety to its current site three blocks away at Third & G Streets, NW. The synagogue was added to the National Register of Historic Places that same year and, after extensive renovations, opened as the JHSGW’s museum in 1975.

With a number of JHSGW events specifically planned for this May’s Jewish American Heritage Month—from a challah sale (a traditional, braided egg bread…yum!) to a guided walking tour of Jewish sites at Arlington National Cemetery—there are plenty of reasons to put JHSGW on your agenda.

Dogging the Details

38°53’54.25″N, 77° 0’54.37″W
Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington (JHSGW), Adas Israel Synagogue, Washington, DC

Like most museums, JHSGW doesn’t permit pet dogs inside the synagogue building, but that shouldn’t stop you and your pup from visiting the museum’s small but nicely landscaped grounds. Getting there on foot is easiest as there’s limited public parking nearby. Additional points of interest within the vicinity include the Judiciary Square complex, the National Building Museum, and the National Law Enforcement Memorial.

However, the best way to extend the JHSGW experience with your dog is to pick up two of the museum’s informative (and free!) tri-fold brochures. One is for a self-guided walking tour throughout the synagogue’s immediate neighborhood, highlighting a dozen buildings with various connections to Jewish heritage in DC. The other pamphlet is similar but provides a walking tour of Jewish sites within Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, just 8.5 miles south. Learn a little local history and get your dog (and yourself!) out for some exercise! For the compelling history and pleasant strolls, visiting JHSGW scores a “1” on the Intrepid Pup Wag-A-Meter.

Filed Under: Cultural Heritage, History, Museums, National Register of Historic Places, Wag-A-Meter=1 Tagged With: Adas Israel, community, dog, historical society, intrepid pup, Jewish American Heritage Month, Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington, synagogue, Tavish, vizsla, Wag-a-meter=1, Washington DC

A Tail at Three Sites

April 30, 2012 by admin

Tavish at Best Farm, Monocacy National Battlefield

Many are the lessons that can be learned from historical sites, and a visit to Maryland’s Monocacy National Battlefield a few weeks ago was no exception. For Tavish the Intrepid Pup, the teachable moment came from a “stimulating” encounter snuffling the grass around a low-voltage electric fence by the cow pasture at the Worthington Farm site. (Note: no worries, he’s fine…just a lot more observant now when it comes to fences.) For Team Tavish, it was the realization that were it not for what happened at Monocacy back on July 9, 1864, the Civil War might have taken a different turn.

The battle at Monocacy represented the third and final Confederate invasion of the North. It often doesn’t get its due in history books because of the more epic scale of the previous two invasions at Antietam (1862) and Gettysburg (1863). But Monocacy is intriguing in its own right. With great irony, it was the Union army loss of the battle that actually saved the nation’s capital a mere 47 miles away. There are far greater chroniclers of Civil War battle strategy than the Intrepid Pup, but the basic storyline of Monocacy is this: Ulysses S. Grant was beginning to successfully deter Robert E. Lee’s Confederate forces in the east. To sustain the pressure on those forces, Lt. General Grant was diverting to Richmond fresh reinforcements in the form of seasoned troops from the various forts that protected Washington, D.C. With relatively few soldiers left behind to “mind the store” so to speak, Lee recognized an opportunity and tasked Lt. General Jubal Early (1816-1894) with making a relatively quick run north up the Blue Ridge to cross at Harper’s Ferry and then invade the capital from the northwest. Early and his men very nearly succeeded except for intervention from an unlikely source: John Garrett. Personally, Garrett was a Confederate sympathizer. Professionally, however, Garrett was the president of the Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) Railroad with many of his clients and much of his business centered in Union territory. It was he who alerted Major General Lew Wallace, stationed in Baltimore, to Early’s troop movements. Wallace had precious little time to react and even fewer resources to muster, but with an inexperienced band of 2,800 short-term recruits (i.e. not battle trained), he set out to intercede Early. The good news for Wallace was that by the time he encountered Early’s Confederate forces at Monocacy on July 9, his Union ranks had swelled to 5,800. The bad news for Wallace was that he was still outnumbered three to one. Imagine going into battle with full knowledge that the odds are squarely not in your favor.

The battle played out over about 12 hours amid several farmers’ fields and along a rail bed and the banks of the Monocacy River…you can still “read” the battle in the landscape today. By almost any measure, Wallace had been defeated and had lost nearly a quarter of his men in the process. Yet Early hadn’t expected to meet such resistance at Monocacy, and the fighting cost him some 900 men and critical hours. With no choice but to encamp on the battlefield the night of July 9, Early had effectively lost a day—and the element of surprise—in an already tight timeline. Early’s men pushed onward the next morning and reached the northwest boundary of Washington by the following afternoon to mount an attack on Fort Stevens. The delay, however, had given Grant just enough time to send steamships full of soldiers to repopulate the defensive forts around Washington. So, while the fighting at Fort Stevens on July 11 was fierce and deadly, it was not enough to fully infiltrate the nation’s capital. Early withdrew, ultimately unsuccessful in his mission.

Tavish at Fort Stevens. President Abraham Lincoln went to witness the fighting here on July 11, 1864. Confederate sharpshooters aimed for him, making Lincoln the only U.S. President to come under direct enemy fire in time of war.

Tavish at Battleground National Cemetery

Fifty nine Union soldiers lost their lives in the Battle of Fort Stevens—the only Civil War battle to be waged in the District of Columbia—and 41 were buried the evening of July 12 at a site a half mile north of the fort on the battleground itself. President Lincoln attended the interment ceremony and consecrated the land as hallowed ground. Now known as Battleground National Cemetery, this tiny plot of land on Georgia Avenue, N.W. between Van Buren Street and Whittier Place is among America’s smallest national cemeteries. Added over the years were various monuments commemorating the regiments that fought, as well as several plaques bearing such sentiments as: “The muffled drums’ sad roll has beat the soldier’s last tattoo. No more on life’s parade shall meet that brave and fallen few.” There’s also a stone superintendent’s house designed by General Montgomery Meigs (1816-1892), a veteran of the Battle of Fort Stevens and also the architect/engineer of DC’s Pension Building that today houses the National Building Museum.

And what ever happened to Major General Wallace (1827-1905)? Yes, he lost the battle but survived the war and, interestingly enough, went on to write the famous novel Ben-Hur: A Life of the Christ (1880). His book was subsequently adapted for the silver screen several times, with the most notable version being the 1959 film classic (starring Charlton Heston and his famous chariot race scene) that reaped 11 Academy Awards.

Dogging the Details

39°22′37.90″N, 77°23′43.34″W
Monocacy National Battlefield, Frederick, Maryland

38°57′52.05″N, 77°1′44.67″W
Fort Stevens, Washington, DC

38°58′14.69″N, 77° 1′37.23″W
Battleground National Cemetery, Washington, DC

Tavish among the bluebells on the Ford Loop Trail, Monocacy National Battlefield

Because of the three sites’ relatively close proximity to one another, tracing the full story of Monocacy—from the initial battle in Frederick, Maryland, to the conclusion at the tiny cemetery in Washington—is easy to experience in one very full day or over the course of two leisurely days. There’s the most ground to cover at Monocacy National Battlefield. Begin your foray at the visitors’ center on Urbana Pike. It used to be in smaller quarters at the Gambrill Mill site but moved to this nice new building about five years ago. Although dogs aren’t allowed inside the visitor center, make sure you head upstairs. There’s a succinct yet exceptionally comprehensive exhibition with an overhead timeline, lighted battle map, and several interactives that really help put what you’re about to see outside in a broader context. Be sure to pick up a brochure from the ranger, because it contains not only driving directions but also a trail map. There are 5 separate locations within the national park to get out explore with your dog. As always, dogs are to be leashed and picked up after:

While Best Farm and Monocacy Junction don’t have any trailheads per se, there’s plenty of room to explore the immediate vicinities from the parking areas. Best Farm is also associated with a remarkable 1862 event related to Antietam (Learn more at the visitors’ center or Google “Lee’s Lost Orders”!).
During the battle, the Gambrill Mill site was co-opted as a Union field hospital, and the short loop trail here includes a boardwalk section leading to the Monocacy River. Tavish enjoyed wading in the shallows.
The Thomas Farm site contains two loop trails that wind through the farm fields that withstood the heaviest fighting that day in 1864.
Worthington Farm has the longest trails, though neither of the two loops takes more than a half hour to hike. We went on a Sunday afternoon and had the place mostly to ourselves save for a couple joggers. The Ford Loop Trail is flat and hugs the flood plain of the Monocacy River. Should you happen to time it right in the springtime, as we did by happy coincidence, you’ll find the path to be spectacularly carpeted with Virginia bluebells (see photo). Much of the Brooks Hill Loop Trail borders the aforementioned cow pasture. Fresh from his fence episode, Tavish curiously appraised the gangly calves and their moms from a respectful distance. Once the trail enters woodland it quickly gains elevation, topping out on a ridge with an expansive view across emerald farmland toward Thomas Farm.

Back in the District of Columbia, visiting Fort Stevens simply involves snagging a parking spot on the street or in the neighboring church parking lot. All that remains of the once extensive Civil War Defenses of Washington are more than 20 locations throughout DC-MD-VA ranging from simple forest sites to earthworks to full-fledged forts. Fort Stevens is not staffed but does have a couple interpretive panels to orient visitors to the partial reconstruction. Continue the short distance to conclude your journey by parallel parking on Georgia Avenue in front of Battleground National Cemetery.

Filed Under: National Battlefield, National Park, Nature, Wag-A-Meter=2 Tagged With: 150th anniversary, B&O Railroad, Battleground National Cemetery, Ben-Hur, Best Farm, bluebells, Charlton Heston, Civil War, Defenses of Washington, dog, Ford Loop Trail, Fort Stevens, Gambrill Mill, hiking, intrepid pup, John Garrett, Jubal Early, Lee's Lost Orders, Lew Wallace, Lincoln, Maryland, Meigs, Monocacy National Battlefield, Monocacy River, National Park Service, nature, NPS, Robert E. Lee, sesquicentennial, Tavish, Thomas Farm, trail, Ulysses S. Grant, visitor center, vizsla, Wag-a-meter=2, Washington DC, Worthington Farm

A Grotto with a View: Olmsted’s Dog-Friendly Legacy

April 26, 2012 by admin

Today—April 26, 2012—is Frederick Law Olmsted Sr.’s 190th birthday. The Intrepid Pup is pretty sure Olmsted’s birthday isn’t widely celebrated nationwide, but it should be! After all, it’s because of Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. (1822-1903) that the terms landscape architecture, green space, and parkway are even part of our vocabulary.

Olmsted’s life is well-chronicled. An early writing and publishing career took the turn to landscape design when in 1857 he secured the position of superintendent of New York City’s Central Park. With a design competition for the park underway, Olmsted was approached by London architect Calvert Vaux (1824-1895), and together they submitted what ended up being the award-winning plan. In 1865 they formed Olmsted, Vaux & Company, a partnership lasting seven years, but eventually Olmsted’s reputation eclipsed Vaux’s. Olmsted would go on to found his own firm, which he relocated to the Boston suburbs in 1883. Today, the National Park Service maintains Olmsted’s Brookline design office “Fairsted” as the Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic Site. Prior to Olmsted’s retirement in 1897, he and his firm had executed approximately 500 commissions, notably including the landscape design for the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, Boston’s Emerald Necklace park lands, Detroit’s Belle Isle, the Stanford University campus, and Asheville’s Biltmore Estate. Olmsted’s nephew/stepson John Charles Olmsted (1852-1920) and son Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. (1870-1957) joined the firm and became full partners, successfully perpetuating Olmsted’s original design aesthetics and the family business well into the 20th century. Both men were founding members of the American Society of Landscape Architects. Frederick Jr. in particular became an adviser to a nascent National Park Service, and his influence can be readily identified in such parks as Yosemite and Acadia.

* * *

Where there are parks, there is Tavish, so clearly the Intrepid Pup thing to do in honor of Olmsted Sr.’s birthday is to visit an Olmsted landscape. In Tavish’s case, it’s the grounds of the United States Capitol.

The mid 19th-century Capitol expansion responsible for adding the massive wings and installing a larger dome also necessitated attention to the surroundings. Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. presented a landscaping plan in 1874 and was brought in to oversee its implementation. What were by that time hallmarks of Olmstedian design—scenery, winding paths, integrated topography—were once again employed to the task at hand. Olmsted was cognizant that the Capitol itself was to be the centerpiece of the immediate landscape and thus created a pastoral expanse. He meticulously laid out the walkways and placement of more than 7,800 trees to create very intentional vistas. While he went fairly minimalist on exterior fountains and statuary so as not to distract or detract from the Capitol itself, Olmsted specified ornamental lamps and wrought iron streetcar shelters (thankfully still in place…see photo below!) to subtly harmonize with the overall design. In 1879, he began work on an open-air, hexagonal brick Summerhouse on the west, Senate-side lawn. An absolutely enchanting structure, neatly embedded among heavy vegetation along a sinuous path, it’s probably a safe assumption that many of the 3.5 million modern-day annual visitors to the Capitol never notice it. Yet step inside the Summerhouse, and it’s a little world unto its own. The thick brick walls keep it cool on even the sultriest of DC days, and the stone benches set into the alcoves can accommodate up to 22 people. In the center is a burbling fountain; originally, the cascading water was supposed to activate a series of musical chimes, but the mechanics were never quite right, so that feature was abandoned. Two oblong, rondel-like windows perforate the walls, but the third—fronted by a lattice of ornamental grillwork—affords the view of a small grotto (see Tavish’s photo above). The effect is not unlike that of peering through the opening of one of those panoramic sugar Easter eggs to behold a magical scene.

Olmsted intended the Summerhouse as a place for travelers to regroup and perhaps ladle refreshment from the fountain. More than a century later, the Summerhouse’s role is unchanged, and it’s an apt spot for reflecting upon the considerable Olmsted legacy.

Dogging the Details

38°53′29.33″N, 77°0′38.33″W
The Summerhouse on the grounds of the U.S. Capitol, Washington, DC

The U.S. Capitol grounds, including the Summerhouse, are dog-friendly, but you must keep dogs on leash and pick up any waste. It’s worth noting that, for security reasons, you won’t find public trash receptacles in close proximity to the Capitol perimeter.

The central fountain is no longer fed by a spring, and the three drinking fountains surrounding it supply filtered DC water, so it’s safe for drinking…or for refilling a travel bowl for your dog!

The Olmsted grounds score a “1” on the Intrepid Pup Wag-a-Meter as they’re expansive, scenic, walkable, and easily accessible.

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