There’s free time for the “volunteers” until 3:00 PM. “Enjoy!” Dr. Fred exclaims, opening his arms wide as if to convey that Moose Island is some lush expanse of wilderness. A Canine Club Med. There are no actual moose on Moose Island; it was named for old Richard Moose, a rich, dog-loving bachelor who left the island to Dr. Fred on the condition that it be maintained as a “Pooch Paradise.” Get real. Here’s what Camp DGF really looks like: Imagine a postcard-perfect tropical island in the South Pacific. You know the kind: tall palms swaying gently in the breeze, long stretches of soft sand, a clear green ocean teeming with iridescent fish, fresh air scented with pineapple and coconut, exotic birds soaring and singing across azure skies. In simpler terms: Paradise. Pooch or otherwise. Then bomb it. Reduce “Paradise” to a few large boulders and a bucket of rubble. Transport it to eastern Ontario and drop it into the St. Lawrence River, one of the busiest shipping lanes in North America.
