For one day a year, Christchurch pools open for pooches to take the plunge.
All week I was hyping up Maggie, our rescue terrier cross, for the big day with her best friend. Ready for the pool party Maggie? With Peachy? Ready to see Peachy? At the pool party? Her absurdly large wispy ears, likely controlled by Jim Henson’s ghost, raised to the heavens, head tilting to one side and then the other. Science will tell you her reaction was due to my tone of voice and the satisfying repetition of the “p” sound. I will tell you it is because she speaks fluent English and was looking forward to the single most important day in the canine calendar.
Since 2018, the Christchurch City Council has invited local dogs to take the plunge in select pools before they are closed and drained during the chilly winter months. Over the weekend, both Waltham and Templeton pools opened their doors to over 800 pooches that were amping to wade in the shallows, jump after sticks in the deep end, or simply bark at their reflection in a puddle. Charging just $3.80 per dog, with all proceeds going to rescue charity Dogwatch, it might just be the highest dollar-to-laugh return that money can buy in 2025.
We showed up around 11am for the medium dog time slot (46 – 64cm) and joined a long queue behind a particularly excited huntaway. A welcoming staff member offered free samples of lamb and king salmon treats, before beckoning us in closer. “Do you… have a cat?” she whispered under her breath. We nodded, and she furtively revealed a separate, secret, unmarked box of complimentary cat treats. After paying our $3.80, another staff member eyed up Maggie like a bouncer, nodded, and opened up the glass doors into sopping wet mayhem.
My colleague Shanti Mathias recently described Waltham Pool in our nationwide round-up of outdoor pools as an idyllic spot to while the day away, snoozing on sun loungers or reading your book on the grassy knoll. On this particular day, there was no rest or relaxation to be found anywhere. The yelps and barks bounced around the concrete walls as we followed Maggie’s wagging tail through the throng. Every single human looked completely dazed. Every single dog looked like they had just tried party pills for the first time.
Maggie quickly found Peachy for their annual tradition of running rampant over the outdoor tables, surpassing mischief KPIs by immediately nicking another dog’s half-open packet of complimentary treats. At the deep end of the pool, golden retrievers showed off by jumping in after tennis balls (typical), whereas other rogue operators needed no incentive whatsoever. A bearded collie with an eerily human face soared off the edge of the pool and popped a spectacular manu, before dragging himself out and doing it all immediately again.
Keen to get Maggie involved in this aquatic athleticism, my partner Joe went to purchase a tennis ball for $3 from the Wagbox dog toy stand, right next to the Cocomutt “doggie ice-cream” stand. The bright yellow ball got her attention for a split second as it sailed through the air, but proved nowhere near as tantalising as a passing Samoyed butt. “$3 quite literally down the drain,” Joe grumbled as we watched the ball bobbing in the middle of the pool. Not to worry, the manu-mad humanoid would likely be after it soon enough.
We had better luck in the shallows, where Maggie happily splashed around after a stick that was eventually relented to a bouncy labrador named Kenny Rogers. You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ‘em, etc. You also gotta know that when you have dozens of dogs milling about in a paddling pool, one of them is eventually going to take a piss. A black and white springer spaniel stared me dead in the eyes as it popped an aquatic squat, and remained unblinking as a pale yellow plume grew underneath the surface.
Even after that, I couldn’t help but hike up my trousers and try to lure Maggie out a bit deeper. At last year’s pool party, we had only had her for a few months after a pretty tumultuous start to her young life, and she had been too scared to go anywhere near the water. A year later, I was ankle deep in diluted piss and begging at a frequency so high-pitched that not even the surrounding dogs could hear it. Very millennial cringe, but it didn’t matter when her little grinch feet lifted off the ground and she started to swim towards me for the very first time.
Best $3.80 I have ever spent. Well, $6.80 if you count the tennis ball.