Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Bushbaby Mini pack

Some time back, Darren posted on his site an interview with the people at Bushbaby, makers of child carriers and related items. I got a squint at the Bushbaby Mini pack, which incorporates a huge “haul loop” and a baby leash (“lead” to good Brits everywhere, “rein” to Bushbaby) into a small knapsack for children.

Over the years, I’ve run into some strong distaste for baby leashes here. People seem to feel that they are dehumanizing, as if you were treating your child like a dog. Leaving aside the tragic fact that that would be a vast behavioral improvement for far too many people, my reaction has always been “take a hike,”—in both the literal and figurative meanings of the phrase. In places where it’s unsafe or inappropriate for the little one to run free, a lead is a much surer and happier (and less wiggly and sweaty) solution than hand-holding or carrying. My mother had a leash for me, and I don’t think it made me turn out especially canine. We had a leash for H (if you have sharp eyes, you can see it below—I’m not sure who that guy is), and she barks, bites, and drinks water from a bowl on the floor only in extreme situations.


That old yellow cotton harness is still around. H, in fact, was using it for B. But the Bushbaby Mini has not only a useful little pack (good for a diaper/nappy, a snack, or a small toy or doll) but a Fastex-type waist-belt buckle, B’s current obsession. So I made a phone call, spoke to Kath, confirmed that Bushbaby has no distribution in the States, and arranged for a Mini to be sent direct to Concord. (Thanks, Darren!)

Two weekends ago, we motored sedately north (no traffic stops!). Poor B had a miserable cold, H is working the 80-hour weeks of a resident, and A is sinking his teeth into a major project at work while simultaneously putting in much of the effort of getting the new house squared away. To top it off, shortly after we arrived the peripatetic B took a spill against a milk-crate storage bin that resulted in a bruise and parallel cuts beneath her left eye. (After registering her objections, and briefly resisting a necessary bit of attention from her mommy the doctor, she was fine).

For all of that, we managed a nice evening meal together on Friday, tried to help at least slightly more than hinder in the house-arranging, and—with the brand new Mini on B’s back, took a fine afternoon walk on Sunday. (Not that B required the excuse of heading outdoors.)


The lead is a good way to give B some freedom of movement but also keep her out of the middle of the street and safe from traffic.


It’s also good for yoga.


(You can see that big grab loop here—so handy, under certain circumstances, to wildly lunging adults.)

But, of course, even B knows that leashes are really for dogs.

5 comments:

whitespider1066 said...

Mark, great post.
Great photos. B is a natural in front of camera.
And a double win for me today, this being the second one that I was of use to you.

Alan Sloman said...

Over here we used to call them "reins" - they kept my mother & father sane: they had six children, so at any time there were probanly two or three on reins to stop certain death in Bracknell New Town!

You are certainly correct about "the tragic fact that that would be a vast behavioral improvement for far too many people"

Ron Bloomquist said...

I was born in 1941 and being on a leash meant my mom was taking good care of me.

Now have to take care of myself!!

:-)

Mark Alvarez said...

Cheers, guys. I'll be posting about a stove soon, Darren, so you'll undoubtedly be able to help me yet again! Alan, I have a picture in my mind of those multiple-dog-walkers in New York City, wandering up 5th Avenue all tangled up with Great Danes and Russian Wolfhounds--not to suggest that you and your siblings had long cold noses and floppy ears.... Ron, I think my mom put me on a leash after I ran up to a random man on the street one day, wrapped my arms around his legs, and shouted, "Daddy!" (Actually, he wasn't entirely random--he was wearing white bucks, which my father always wore in the summer. Talk about a blast from the past, huh?)

Anonymous said...

Don't forget the two indispensable "soother attachment points."