A Dog Named April

Provincetown harbor

New Years Day, 2014

April digging for clams

Provincetown, Massachusetts, is a quintessential New England town with beaches, buoys, old Victorian homes and kitsch. It’s also dog-friendly and queer-friendly. I’ve never seen Provincetown “in-season” when festivals dot the calendar and the beach is cluttered with people of all shapes, sizes and genders. It must be a lot of fun. But Provincetown in winter is like your own little fairy tale.



April woke up on New Years Day in a beach-facing unit at the Bayshore Inn. Her limbs had recovered from the 4-mile hike we had done a couple of days before. She was ten years old and had some arthritis. We had started walking from Bayshore Inn at the east side of the town, along Commercial Street, past the kitschy shops and art galleries (that offer dog treats if you walk in with your dog), and towards the west end of the town, where the breaker wall starts. It was late afternoon by the time we reached “the wall.” April navigated the uneven granite blocks that make up the wall, speckled with shattered clam shells and bird poop, faster than I could. A sniff here, a lick there, and her tail didn’t stop wagging. Once we got on the beach, she played tug with Steve. My invisible tail wagged too, watching her.

Waking up

We had walked back after dusk. The sky had turned pink and gold, then faded into purple darkness. My eyes were watering and I was chilled to the bones by the time we got to Georges Pizza, in spite of all the layers I could possibly wear and the biggest, fattest pair of gloves.

Hike across the wall in low tide

P Town Doggy

Georges was busy that night, and all we could quickly grab were plain cheese slices. Pizza had never tasted better. I had skipped lunch that day, lost in our rendezvous. Steve was starving. April always had the crust. I think dogs must have a gene that programs them to bark at the mailman and wag their nose at the pizza guys.

That night we settled down with pizza and wine and Lord of the Rings on DVD. The bay outside had disappeared into darkness. The horses on screen kept April on her toes.

Provincetown is not known for exceptional food at reasonable prices, or maybe I feel that because I have been spoiled by New York City. But there are a few places that I usually stop by and love. Wired Puppy on Commercial Street is the place to be with your pooch as you fetch your cup-of-joe. They also have free wifi access and a steady stream of locals. The Purple Feather has decadent baked goodies, including chocolate covered bacon. I know what an epic fan following bacon and chocolate both have, but in my opinion, they don’t work so well together. (I took a bite from Steve). But you should give it a go, just to make sure. In season, the Portuguese bakery towards the west side of the town is supposed to have rocking goodies, but April and I have never visited when it was open, so we couldn’t tell you for sure.

The seared scallop salad at the Surf Club Restaurant near McMillian Pier is simple and fresh, although the restaurant is not rated high for service or food. On a sunny day you can sit on the deck and watch the tides as you dig in, and I found it open during off-season weekends when few others were. You can’t go wrong with fried seafood and lobster rolls from the take out stands near the pier if they’re open; and Spiritus Pizza has my vote for the best pizza in town. I would usually order a pie, get a bottle of wine and take it to the beach or my porch and watch the sun go down.

Seared scallop salad ar Surf Club

The Red Inn offers happy hour Wellfleet oysters – not to be missed if you are a fan of slurping bivalves off their shells. Wellfleet is about 20 minutes away, and you just can’t beat the sweet freshness of these oysters. The Red Inn has a quiet, beautiful property at the very west end of town, facing the bay, and although dinner may be a splurge, it would be a good one. Plus, they let your dog accompany you if you choose to be seated at the deck.

Alternatively, The Squealing Pig on Commercial Street is the best place for a reasonable and hearty meal, any time of the day. Their smoked chowder, fish and chips, chicken curry and fresh oysters have kept me happy and well fed on chilly and warm days alike.

Lorraine’s at the western part of Commercial Street is one of the few lesbian-owned establishments still running. It serves tasty Mexican food and an awesome selection of tequilas. Cheerful and cozy, Lorraine’s is a place to huddle in with friends, eat, drink and be merry. Napi’s at Freeman Street is a non-pretentious place with solid food. If you find yourself there, don’t leave without sampling the Portuguese soup.

Steve and April on the beach

Provincetown is a friendly town, so strike up a conversation if you find yourself dining with the locals. At the Lobster Pot one night I received an impromptu invitation to a Jamaican party with goat and all, and at the Red Inn, I had dinner with a life coach who sounded like he had been a black-ops guy in his former life.

There’s a lot to do and see in this tiny beach town. Beyond McMillian Pier, named after the arctic explorer and Provincetown native, Donald B. MacMillan, is Fisherman’s Wharf with an outdoor art installation featuring five large portraits of local Portuguese-American women photographed by Norma Holt. Make sure to stop by at Provincetown Art Association and Museum (PAAM)  - they have an excellent collection - and walk up and down cheerful Commercial Street with its myriad art galleries, eateries and shops. There’s the quintessential walk across the breakwater to the Wood End Lighthouse; and a short drive takes you to the ocean facing beaches of Race Point and Herring Cove. But there is one more attraction that April and I “heart” – a hike across the dunes. 

April and I walked through the dunes with a friend last fall. You can take a guided tour, or go on your own as we did. Follow Snail Road as it crosses Rt 6, to the North, and then walk along a sand path that meanders out past cranberry bogs and dune shacks. It took us a while to reach the ocean beach, and the walk can be hot and strenuous if you’re not used to walking on sand. Up and down we went, endlessly, it seemed, across some steep dunes, and past the fabled "dune shacks". But it was beautiful and solitary, and once we reached the ocean, we found seals were playing in the water. I had to keep April on a tight leash as we watched the seals.

Wood End Lighthouse, New Years Day

Hike to the lighthouse. Photo by Steve White

On New Year’s Day, we decided to head to the Wood End Lighthouse. The other day it had gotten dark by the time we had crossed the breaker wall, so we hadn’t had the chance to walk to the lighthouse. A walk across the wall may take two hours round trip, according to some reviews, but we were a slow bunch, stopping to sniff and lick, and take photographs. So we gave ourselves two hours each way. 

At the end of the breakwater wall were some gentle dunes and the ocean beach. We continued to walk toward the lighthouse. April led the way, bouncing across the sand, her ears flying in the wind. There is something definitely magical about lighthouses. They remind me of Rapunzel’s tower. The Wood End Lighthouse is even more so, standing tall and lonely, accessible by foot only during low tide, when you can walk across the wall. The three of us goofed around, braving the cold wind from the ocean, basking in the golden light, soaking in the magic, hugging each other.

I didn’t know at the time, but that was our last New Year’s Day with April. There are some things in life that I’ve done right, and that day was as right as right gets.

US. Photo by Steve White