Anne Weiskittel Rienhoff '51 and the Story of Cheenie the Rescue Dog

Suspecting that it might be a booby trap, they braked, got out, and approached cautiously on foot. It was not an explosive device at all. It was a small ball of fluff, a tiny, curled up, shivering puppy. The puppy fit and nestled into the warmth of a hand. There were no houses near this desolate road. The GIs took the puppy back to the base and gave it to Aunt Kak for its care. The first thing the puppy did was to stagger across the desk and drink the ink out of the ink well.

 

Aunt Kak nurtured the puppy back to health. It — She was loved by everybody. She became a mascot for the base. For good luck pilots patted her soft fur before they took off on their dangerous missions, flying over ”The Hump.” The pilots named the sweet dog, “Cheenie.”

When it was time for Aunt Kak to return to the U.S., Cheenie could not come back with her on the troop ship. But at a farewell party Aunt Kak persuaded a commander to smuggle Cheenie aboard his destroyer which would eventually get back to the U.S.  Friends would keep Cheenie until such and such a date, get her onto such and such a pier on The Hooghly River, at such and such an hour.

Aunt Kak lived with our family on Warrenton Road near Calvert School. She never knew if she would see Cheenie again. But she told my brother and me bedtime stories about this clever dog that she had trained to do circus tricks and how much Cheenie’s performances raised the spirits of troops in India. On command, Cheenie would shake hands, roll over, play dead, kiss your right ear, kiss your nose, high jump through a circle of your arms, balance a biscuit on her nose until told “OK” and then flip it into the air and catch it. My brother and I dreamed of doing these tricks with Cheenie in front of our friends and classmates.

One day Aunt Kak received a telegram from authorities at a New York Marine Terminal. She was to pick up an animal. An excited Aunt Kak left right away. She met a happy but emaciated dog. Cheenie had been miserable for weeks at sea. Someone had pinned a Red Cross badge on Cheenie’s collar. With Cheenie tucked under her arm, Aunt Kak boarded a train in Penn Station to head home to Baltimore. When Cheenie was discovered, the conductor shouted, 

“You cannot bring that dog on this train! This train is for returning servicemen.” Aunt Kak showed him Cheenie’s Red Cross badge and told him,”That dog has been in service for our country too.” Later, in the dining car, Aunt Kak ordered a cheese sandwich for dinner. A steak arrived with it, free for Cheenie. The waiter announced, “For Distinguished Service Overseas!”

Our adored Cheenie lived with us for a wonderful sixteen years. At night she slept snuggled in my brother’s or my arms and would challenge with a soft warning growl all pleas from our mother and father and Aunt Kak to leave the embrace of our arms.

I continue to be amazed at the extraordinary circumstances that brought about the rescue of Cheenie and how she came to be such an important part our childhood. What weird destiny was at work for her to be found on that dark night, on that deserted road in far-away India and then to find the family that would cherish her here in Baltimore?

“Cheenie” means “sugar” in Hindustani.