When my parents, Bobby and Wendi, took me to Put-In-Bay last weekend, we met a lot of nice people. Most of the time it was while we were waiting in line for the ferry — both to and from the island. I guess sometimes people just need to make small talk to take up time. Because I am cute, much of the talk centered around me. (I mean honestly, you’ve seen my pictures, right?)
Most of the time people ask how old I am and what what my breed is. I look much younger than I am, as I am 6 years old. My Aunt Angie calls me a perpetual puppy. I am a beagle terrier mix, but depending on who we are talking to, I either look more like a beagle or more like a terrier. Either way, I am adorable.
But this time, when they asked my name, my parents had time to tell them the story of my namesake, Owney, the mascot of the Railway Mail Carriers. The story goes like this: a terrier mix dog wandered into a post office in Albany, New York in 1888. It was during a snow storm and I think he was just looking for shelter. One of the postmen there took the dog as his own and his name was Owen.
I guess Owney would go with Owen to the train depot to get the mail and load mail into the train. (Back in those days there were specific cars that mail was sorted as the train traveled from station to station.) Owney ended up getting into the car one time and road away from his home in Albany. He must have gotten bit by the travel bug, because though Albany was his home, he traveled all over the world.
During his travels he collected over 1,000 tokens. These were given to him by the different post offices he went to and other tokens made especially for him. The post master general of the time, John Wanamaker had someone make Owney a special coat to put the tokens on.
He one time went to a convention of the railway postal servicemen. When he came on the stage he got a 15 minute standing ovation. You might wonder why a little dog meant so much to them. Well from what I understand he was considered good luck. Whenever he rode a train it didn’t get into accidents. Train accidents in those days was pretty common.
He was so loved that when he died the railway postal servicemen took a collection up to preserve him. He is now on exhibit at the U. S. Postal Museum in Washington, D.C. I know all this ’cause my mom has told me all about him. When Dad brought me home, he decided I should be called Owney, because I like traveling, too and I am part terrier.
So now you know about the original Owney. Of all the dogs in the world I could have been named after, I think he is the best one. Not because he was a terrier mix like me, but because he found a forever family who understood him, just like me.
