This just in:
We are working feverishily to Get Gunny to the rose Bowl Parade.
Please read his story..you will understand. We will need worldwide support daily for this.
PLEASE...for all the Pitties...
Thanks..and CROSSPOST WORLDWIDE.
Gunny is a rescue pit bull who was used as a "bait" dog at a dog fighting kennel in North Carolina. I encourage you to view the video. Heartbreaking as his story may be, you will be gladdended by the wonderful people and fur friends that have come to his rescue.
http://network.bestfriends.org/campaigns/pitbulls/forum/p/32722/146020.aspx#146020
Jupiter, a Pitty, was adopted by our son and he has certainly changed our minds about the breed and opened our hearts. He's been a high energy and loving character. He's become a most beloved fur member of our family.
Please, for Gunny's sake and for all the abused and neglected pets out there, lets send him to the Rose Bowl and raise awareness everywhere we can.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Summer's Gone and soon Fall too...
Well, summer is gone and it's been awhile since my last posting here so this is an attempt to catch up.
This was an odd summer and fall as there were no bears frequenting our apple trees. Of course, we're told that it's a good thing but I'm wondering what has happened to them. We were told that there was a bumper crop of huckleberries so the bears didn't need to visit our fruit trees or the neighbors garbage, neglectfully left on their deck. But huckleberries are seasonal and they didn't last all summer, much less into the fall. Every year conservation officers destroy 'problem bears' that come into town looking to fatten up on carelessly discarded rubbish, pet food left outdoors and front lawn fruit trees. I fear that so many bears have been killed that it's made a serious impact on their numbers and that may be why we're not seeing them this year.
One concerned citizen has taken it upon herself to plant apple tree saplings in remote mountainside areas of the forest. She's been chastised for doing so as apples are not considered to be a 'natural' food source for them. But what then is natural? Surely our continual encroachment into their habitat can't be natural either. I personally commend her efforts to save their precious lives by providing a food source away from town and the confrontations that ultimately end in their tragic loss.
What has made a few visits to our neighborhood has been a cougar cub. The young cat was first sighted by our daughter when returning home late one night. The cougar was caught in her headlights, sitting in the middle of our road. At first our girl thought it was a domestic cat until it got up to run off. It's pale tawny color and long tail gave it away. We've heard its plaintive yowling, much like baby crying from up the side of the mountain behind our home and a few nights ago it ran across our flower boxes outside our bedroom window. It surely knows that we have two small dogs and two kitties living here... now that's food for thought (and for young cougars too). I think this young lion is one of two that was orphaned over the summer by the lion hunter that was hired by the conservation department to eliminate these dangerous animals. It will undoubtedly be a hard winter for the cub, but there is little we can do for it and we have no plans to donate our little dogs or kitties.
Snow is due any day now. Our pantry is packed with our summer harvest, the shelves filled with canned fruit, jams and jellies. Our woodshed is almost full and we're getting ready to settle in for the winter. It's time to make sure our pets are ready for winter too. Our little Mr. Rutgar has a new yellow coat, lined in faux leopard... quite classy and very warm. He's never been one to enjoy wearing clothes, but as soon as the temperatures dropped, he seemed eager to wiggle into his winter gear. He's happy to crawl under his special blanky every night too. I always make certain the pets have fresh water and I fill their bowls several times a day. The water from our tap is very cold in winter and I know I sometimes have trouble drinking icy water so I add warm water to their bowls and I've noticed that they tend to drink more as a result.
So, as I rake up the last of the leaves and put away the hoses for another year, I will be thinking of more hopefully interesting things to add to my blog. Stay tunned!
This was an odd summer and fall as there were no bears frequenting our apple trees. Of course, we're told that it's a good thing but I'm wondering what has happened to them. We were told that there was a bumper crop of huckleberries so the bears didn't need to visit our fruit trees or the neighbors garbage, neglectfully left on their deck. But huckleberries are seasonal and they didn't last all summer, much less into the fall. Every year conservation officers destroy 'problem bears' that come into town looking to fatten up on carelessly discarded rubbish, pet food left outdoors and front lawn fruit trees. I fear that so many bears have been killed that it's made a serious impact on their numbers and that may be why we're not seeing them this year.
One concerned citizen has taken it upon herself to plant apple tree saplings in remote mountainside areas of the forest. She's been chastised for doing so as apples are not considered to be a 'natural' food source for them. But what then is natural? Surely our continual encroachment into their habitat can't be natural either. I personally commend her efforts to save their precious lives by providing a food source away from town and the confrontations that ultimately end in their tragic loss.
What has made a few visits to our neighborhood has been a cougar cub. The young cat was first sighted by our daughter when returning home late one night. The cougar was caught in her headlights, sitting in the middle of our road. At first our girl thought it was a domestic cat until it got up to run off. It's pale tawny color and long tail gave it away. We've heard its plaintive yowling, much like baby crying from up the side of the mountain behind our home and a few nights ago it ran across our flower boxes outside our bedroom window. It surely knows that we have two small dogs and two kitties living here... now that's food for thought (and for young cougars too). I think this young lion is one of two that was orphaned over the summer by the lion hunter that was hired by the conservation department to eliminate these dangerous animals. It will undoubtedly be a hard winter for the cub, but there is little we can do for it and we have no plans to donate our little dogs or kitties.
Snow is due any day now. Our pantry is packed with our summer harvest, the shelves filled with canned fruit, jams and jellies. Our woodshed is almost full and we're getting ready to settle in for the winter. It's time to make sure our pets are ready for winter too. Our little Mr. Rutgar has a new yellow coat, lined in faux leopard... quite classy and very warm. He's never been one to enjoy wearing clothes, but as soon as the temperatures dropped, he seemed eager to wiggle into his winter gear. He's happy to crawl under his special blanky every night too. I always make certain the pets have fresh water and I fill their bowls several times a day. The water from our tap is very cold in winter and I know I sometimes have trouble drinking icy water so I add warm water to their bowls and I've noticed that they tend to drink more as a result.
So, as I rake up the last of the leaves and put away the hoses for another year, I will be thinking of more hopefully interesting things to add to my blog. Stay tunned!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Help fight Canine Cancer
This plea for help comes from Melissa Becall, our friend in California on behalf of Tish Graber and her beautiful Sydney. Even though tomorrow is June 9th, Sydney's nineth birthday, it's never too late to help eliminate cancer in dogs. I recently read the alarming statistic that one in three dogs dies of cancer. What we help to cure in our fur families, we also cure in ourselves... we are one.
*****
Sydney was been diagnosed with Melanoma Cancer and most likely Osteosarcoma (bone cancer). I am involved with an organization called We Are The Cure.
The National Canine Cancer Foundation is a nationwide, contribution funded, 501 (c)(3) non-profit corporation dedicated to eliminating cancer as a major health problem in dogs by funding grants for the scientific efforts of cancer researchers who are working to save lives, find a cure, find better treatments, find more accurate, cost effective, diagnostic methods in dealing with cancer, and diminishing dogs’ suffering from cancer through research, education, advocacy, and service.
My goal is to raise $1K before Sydney’s 9th b-day on June 9th. In the last few weeks I have raised $670. Every little bit helps and would very much appreciate your support. Please forward this link www.wearethecure.org/friends/sydney to any animal lovers that you may know.
The donation amount is not important as no amount is too small.
Please pray for my girl as she is really struggling to be strong.
Tish Grabar
Sydney was been diagnosed with Melanoma Cancer and most likely Osteosarcoma (bone cancer). I am involved with an organization called We Are The Cure.
The National Canine Cancer Foundation is a nationwide, contribution funded, 501 (c)(3) non-profit corporation dedicated to eliminating cancer as a major health problem in dogs by funding grants for the scientific efforts of cancer researchers who are working to save lives, find a cure, find better treatments, find more accurate, cost effective, diagnostic methods in dealing with cancer, and diminishing dogs’ suffering from cancer through research, education, advocacy, and service.
My goal is to raise $1K before Sydney’s 9th b-day on June 9th. In the last few weeks I have raised $670. Every little bit helps and would very much appreciate your support. Please forward this link www.wearethecure.org/friends/sydney to any animal lovers that you may know.
The donation amount is not important as no amount is too small.
Please pray for my girl as she is really struggling to be strong.
Tish Grabar
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Getting By or Getting Better
Hard economic times may require some hard choices, but imagination and a little creativity can go a long way towards changing ‘getting by’ to ‘getting better.’ As I grappled with what my next topic would be for this post, I came to realize that our family has had to deal with financial difficulties many times over the years. We had a small 29-acre truck farm in the mountains of South Eastern British Columbia. We raised pigs, goats, chickens, horses and sheep. Although there was little change jingling in our pockets, we never really felt ‘poor.’
Our vegetable garden provided the basics and then some. Our goats provided milk and cheese and the piggys… well, we wont go into that, we aren’t vegetarians but they were happy for the time they were with us.
Looking back, I am still impressed with the creative solutions we came up with when there was no money to purchase feed for the animals.
The horses and goats required hay over the winter and our farm was too small and too rocky to grow what we needed, yet they stayed fat and productive and this is how.
In one of my early morning rides on my big pinto horse, Dancer, I noticed several uncut fields of rich grass belonging to our neighbors. When I got home, I phoned them and asked if they were planning to cut and bale hay. Most didn’t have animals and weren’t planning to do anything but continue to let the fields go fallow but if I wanted the hay, I could have it. I then called a friend who had a hay mower and baler and made this arrangement. The owner of the pasture would get one third of the hay to sell, the owner of the mower and baler would get one third and I would get one third just for making a few phone calls. Before long, our hay shed was full with excellent grass hay.
Our goats were so productive I was able to exchange their surplus milk for vegetables we weren’t able grow and even for the services of a massage therapist when my back got sore from lifting all those heavy bales of hay.
I milked our neighbor’s cows for a few summers so that they could take an occasional vacation. With our goat’s milk and the milk from their cows there was plenty to go around. My husband made wonderful cheeses and the heavy Jersey cream from the cow’s milk was a luxury few could afford. I was reminded of that fact when I was in the market and saw strawberries on sale. We had so many strawberries in our garden that they were part of our daily meal to the point of monotony. “Good grief, I’m getting sick of strawberry shortcake,” I said and was met with a scowl from a nearby shopper.
The work was hard and the days were long but we were rewarded for our efforts with the abundance that graced our table and filled the barn with sweet smelling hay… a gift from Mother Earth made possible with a bit of creative problem solving.
Obviously not everyone lives on a farm so these specific solutions wont work for everyone, but the basics are the same. If money is in short supply, accept the challenge and tap into your creative self. Money doesn’t have to be the only medium of exchange. Everyone has something to offer. Child minding, house keeping, tutoring a student, shopping for a ‘shut-in,’ tending someone’s garden for a share, just to name a few.
At Christmas I traded some of my small oil paintings for beautiful artful things friends were making thus providing a variety of gifts we were able to give and some of my artwork was even traded for expensive gourmet coffees and other tasty holiday treats.
The biggest surprise came when we were having particularly tough time. I had all our bills collected in a basket on the kitchen table. While enjoying the excellent gourmet coffee with a friend, she pulled our electric bill from the basket and said, “I’ll pay this, just do a small horse painting for my Mom. It’s her birthday and she loves your work.”
You just never know where the solutions are likely to come from, but I have faith that as long as we remain open to the abundance the universe provides, all our needs and those of our fur kids will be met.
Our vegetable garden provided the basics and then some. Our goats provided milk and cheese and the piggys… well, we wont go into that, we aren’t vegetarians but they were happy for the time they were with us.
Looking back, I am still impressed with the creative solutions we came up with when there was no money to purchase feed for the animals.
The horses and goats required hay over the winter and our farm was too small and too rocky to grow what we needed, yet they stayed fat and productive and this is how.
In one of my early morning rides on my big pinto horse, Dancer, I noticed several uncut fields of rich grass belonging to our neighbors. When I got home, I phoned them and asked if they were planning to cut and bale hay. Most didn’t have animals and weren’t planning to do anything but continue to let the fields go fallow but if I wanted the hay, I could have it. I then called a friend who had a hay mower and baler and made this arrangement. The owner of the pasture would get one third of the hay to sell, the owner of the mower and baler would get one third and I would get one third just for making a few phone calls. Before long, our hay shed was full with excellent grass hay.
Our goats were so productive I was able to exchange their surplus milk for vegetables we weren’t able grow and even for the services of a massage therapist when my back got sore from lifting all those heavy bales of hay.
I milked our neighbor’s cows for a few summers so that they could take an occasional vacation. With our goat’s milk and the milk from their cows there was plenty to go around. My husband made wonderful cheeses and the heavy Jersey cream from the cow’s milk was a luxury few could afford. I was reminded of that fact when I was in the market and saw strawberries on sale. We had so many strawberries in our garden that they were part of our daily meal to the point of monotony. “Good grief, I’m getting sick of strawberry shortcake,” I said and was met with a scowl from a nearby shopper.
The work was hard and the days were long but we were rewarded for our efforts with the abundance that graced our table and filled the barn with sweet smelling hay… a gift from Mother Earth made possible with a bit of creative problem solving.
Obviously not everyone lives on a farm so these specific solutions wont work for everyone, but the basics are the same. If money is in short supply, accept the challenge and tap into your creative self. Money doesn’t have to be the only medium of exchange. Everyone has something to offer. Child minding, house keeping, tutoring a student, shopping for a ‘shut-in,’ tending someone’s garden for a share, just to name a few.
At Christmas I traded some of my small oil paintings for beautiful artful things friends were making thus providing a variety of gifts we were able to give and some of my artwork was even traded for expensive gourmet coffees and other tasty holiday treats.
The biggest surprise came when we were having particularly tough time. I had all our bills collected in a basket on the kitchen table. While enjoying the excellent gourmet coffee with a friend, she pulled our electric bill from the basket and said, “I’ll pay this, just do a small horse painting for my Mom. It’s her birthday and she loves your work.”
You just never know where the solutions are likely to come from, but I have faith that as long as we remain open to the abundance the universe provides, all our needs and those of our fur kids will be met.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
A Wolf at Our Door
The phone rang as it did every afternoon, “Jamie called from work. He rescued an abandoned dog on his way to the mill this morning. Poor thing was so cold and starving, just wandering the highway near Lost Ledge,” my daughter informed me. “He’s dropped the dog off at Pat’s.”
Dr. Pat is our local rural vet and his kennels stand ready to take in abandoned or lost pets, usually brought in by the village dogcatcher. Winter is the worst season for the pets that find themselves homeless and many don’t survive the bitter mountain cold.
Jamie returned home that evening after a grueling day at the lumber mill. Despite his exhaustion from work that day, he couldn’t stop thinking about that dirty starving dog he fed his sandwich to that morning. “I’m gonna call Pat and see if anyone has called about that dog. I hate to think of him there and this close to Christmas.”
Five minutes later Jamie hung up the phone, “Pat says he’s just a pup and if no one claims him by Christmas, he’s gonna have to put him down as he doesn’t have the room for him… says he’s gonna be a small dog. What ya’ think?”
Christmas Day was upon us and no one claimed the pup, Minka asked me to go along with them to look at the little guy as Jamie really wanted a dog and maybe, just maybe, this would be the one, and besides… How could we stand by and let him be ‘put down?’
We loaded ourselves into Jamie’s truck and headed over the icy road to Pat’s to take a look, even though it was pretty much decided that we would be bringing the ‘little’ dog home.
Pat led us into the back where there was a single row of kennels filled mostly with hospital patients. “I think he may have a bit of coyote in him, but just take a look and let me know what you want to do.”
There he stood. Cleaned up and white, skinny, long legs and the biggest feet you can imagine. “Goodness, this is not going to be a small dog. I don’t see how Pat can say that. When he grows into those feet, he’s going to be a pretty big fella.” I told my young couple. “When I was a vet tech, I saw lots of pups, and this one’s got a heck of a lot of growing to do.”
Jamie picked him up the next day on his way home from work. As we were petting him we discovered a series of thirteen stitches closing a long gash on the underside of his neck. Apparently he had been in some kind of mishap, most likely attacked by a larger dog. Jamie phoned Pat who didn’t seem to know about the stitches and certainly he hadn’t put them in… and “No, no one has come forward for him.” It was just another mystery surrounding this pup. We speculated that he had fallen from the back of a truck and the owners were miles away by the time they had discovered he was gone, but why then weren’t they looking for him?
Two days later I answered the phone, thinking a bit too early for my daughter, “Mom… I don’t know what we’re going to do. We left him in the bathroom as you suggested and he’s torn the bathroom apart! He’s torn up the floor and eaten the walls. I don’t think we should try to keep him in there anymore.” I had recommended keeping him in the bathroom at night as part of his house training. The space was small and seemingly there was little damage he could do. In such a small space, we thought he would be okay and would go out dutifully in the morning. After all, he hadn’t gone potty and was holding… holding pieces of the linoleum in his mouth that is.
The next day started with another tearful and panicked call, “Oh my God! Mom, he’s eaten the kitchen wall and torn up the floor. The living room is a disaster. He’s ripped back the carpet and there isn’t a piece of underlay left larger than one inch in diameter. I don’t think we can keep him. What am I to do?” Unfortunately my usual recommendation of having him sleep near you with a light line tied between you and him wouldn’t work as they slept in a loft only accessible by a steep ladder.
“Bear with him honey and I guess you should start looking for home where they can handle him.” The thought of accepting defeat and giving him up left us both with a lump in our throats.
They called Pat and described the situation they found themselves in. “Oh, he’s chewing a lot is he? Well, that’s to be expected of pups, especially pups that might be a little bit coyote.”
“Hmm,” I thought when I heard Pat’s response. “I think he knows more than he’s telling us.” I remembered friends who had tried to raise an orphaned coyote pup… unsuccessfully. The pup had created a den inside the sofa and would not come out except at night to wreck havoc. He had done a considerable amount of damage while they attempted to integrate him into domesticity. He escaped one night through a window that had been left open and was never seen again.
Things were not looking great for Kaspar, who was beginning to look more ‘wolf like’ with each passing day. “ Oh Mom… He’s ripped out the sofa cushions and shredded them. There’s just no stopping him. He’s ruining everything. We wont have anything left.”
Finding a new home for him was not going well, in fact, not going at all. There was no interest in taking on a probable part coyote pup with chewing problems.
“Now he’s done it,” Minka said. “He’s chewed up the television remote. Jamie tried to tape it back together but after he chewed it up a second time… Oh well.”
Things weren’t any better outside the house where he dug a great den under the porch stairs. And, he had developed a ‘wander-lust.’ The fences grew higher but unable to contain him. He could slip a chain and as we are all opposed to chaining a dog, it wasn’t an option anyway.
All this time, he was growing into a magnificent animal. He was something to see and still is with the backdrop of our mountains he looks very much the wolf. He moved with such fluid grace along the lakeshore, totally in his element.
From time to time, my daughter, Minka, and I have seen a number of dogs like him. One day when we were collecting our mail from our post office, we ran into a woman who had an almost identical dog she was loading into her truck. We asked her where her dog came from and as it turned out, she got hers from a breeder who raises wolf hybrids. She told us that all the dogs that came from this breeder were at a minimum, 25% wolf. Well, that explained a lot of the behavior and some we are still dealing with.
Obviously Kaspar never found a new home. Eventually he stopped eating the house and endeared himself to his Minka and Jamie. Of course, he developed other doggie proclivities that both entertain and annoy us. He’s sneaky. He can disappear right before your eyes and especially so in winter. Being white, he slinks down in the snow and just evaporates and only returns when he’s good and ready. The dogcatcher made it her personal mandate to catch the scoundrel but he outwitted her for years and she’s never got him. He loved to ride in the back of Jamie’s pickup truck and was known around town as the ‘Drive by Barker,’ infuriating every neighborhood canine into a frenzy.
Kaspar is a senior now. Quiet and willing to sleep most his days, except for his usual morning and evening submission to the wanderlust in his blood. The local wildlife is quite safe since his old joints no longer allow him to run and nothing pleases him more than to find a nice clean patch of snow to curl up on for a nap.
The poor economic times have been hard on our family as it has been on many, but being close, our daughter has come home to live for a time, along with her fur family, Kaspar the most senior of them.
I step outside with the three dogs for their early morning and evening constitutionals, and as usual, Kaspar vanishes and I worry. I look for him in all directions. He is a dog that has never really accepted the leash and I worry for him. I know that in his present condition he is unable to harass wildlife, but I don’t know that anyone else wouldn’t see him as a threat. I worry that he might get hit crossing the nearby highway so I don’t call his name for fear that he would be distracted and my fear born out. Worried, I look out the upstairs windows to see if I can catch a glimpse of him returning. Finally after twenty minutes or so, I peek out the porch windows and see him curled up by the back door… a wolf at our door.
Dr. Pat is our local rural vet and his kennels stand ready to take in abandoned or lost pets, usually brought in by the village dogcatcher. Winter is the worst season for the pets that find themselves homeless and many don’t survive the bitter mountain cold.
Jamie returned home that evening after a grueling day at the lumber mill. Despite his exhaustion from work that day, he couldn’t stop thinking about that dirty starving dog he fed his sandwich to that morning. “I’m gonna call Pat and see if anyone has called about that dog. I hate to think of him there and this close to Christmas.”
Five minutes later Jamie hung up the phone, “Pat says he’s just a pup and if no one claims him by Christmas, he’s gonna have to put him down as he doesn’t have the room for him… says he’s gonna be a small dog. What ya’ think?”
Christmas Day was upon us and no one claimed the pup, Minka asked me to go along with them to look at the little guy as Jamie really wanted a dog and maybe, just maybe, this would be the one, and besides… How could we stand by and let him be ‘put down?’
We loaded ourselves into Jamie’s truck and headed over the icy road to Pat’s to take a look, even though it was pretty much decided that we would be bringing the ‘little’ dog home.
Pat led us into the back where there was a single row of kennels filled mostly with hospital patients. “I think he may have a bit of coyote in him, but just take a look and let me know what you want to do.”
There he stood. Cleaned up and white, skinny, long legs and the biggest feet you can imagine. “Goodness, this is not going to be a small dog. I don’t see how Pat can say that. When he grows into those feet, he’s going to be a pretty big fella.” I told my young couple. “When I was a vet tech, I saw lots of pups, and this one’s got a heck of a lot of growing to do.”
Jamie picked him up the next day on his way home from work. As we were petting him we discovered a series of thirteen stitches closing a long gash on the underside of his neck. Apparently he had been in some kind of mishap, most likely attacked by a larger dog. Jamie phoned Pat who didn’t seem to know about the stitches and certainly he hadn’t put them in… and “No, no one has come forward for him.” It was just another mystery surrounding this pup. We speculated that he had fallen from the back of a truck and the owners were miles away by the time they had discovered he was gone, but why then weren’t they looking for him?
Two days later I answered the phone, thinking a bit too early for my daughter, “Mom… I don’t know what we’re going to do. We left him in the bathroom as you suggested and he’s torn the bathroom apart! He’s torn up the floor and eaten the walls. I don’t think we should try to keep him in there anymore.” I had recommended keeping him in the bathroom at night as part of his house training. The space was small and seemingly there was little damage he could do. In such a small space, we thought he would be okay and would go out dutifully in the morning. After all, he hadn’t gone potty and was holding… holding pieces of the linoleum in his mouth that is.
The next day started with another tearful and panicked call, “Oh my God! Mom, he’s eaten the kitchen wall and torn up the floor. The living room is a disaster. He’s ripped back the carpet and there isn’t a piece of underlay left larger than one inch in diameter. I don’t think we can keep him. What am I to do?” Unfortunately my usual recommendation of having him sleep near you with a light line tied between you and him wouldn’t work as they slept in a loft only accessible by a steep ladder.
“Bear with him honey and I guess you should start looking for home where they can handle him.” The thought of accepting defeat and giving him up left us both with a lump in our throats.
They called Pat and described the situation they found themselves in. “Oh, he’s chewing a lot is he? Well, that’s to be expected of pups, especially pups that might be a little bit coyote.”
“Hmm,” I thought when I heard Pat’s response. “I think he knows more than he’s telling us.” I remembered friends who had tried to raise an orphaned coyote pup… unsuccessfully. The pup had created a den inside the sofa and would not come out except at night to wreck havoc. He had done a considerable amount of damage while they attempted to integrate him into domesticity. He escaped one night through a window that had been left open and was never seen again.
Things were not looking great for Kaspar, who was beginning to look more ‘wolf like’ with each passing day. “ Oh Mom… He’s ripped out the sofa cushions and shredded them. There’s just no stopping him. He’s ruining everything. We wont have anything left.”
Finding a new home for him was not going well, in fact, not going at all. There was no interest in taking on a probable part coyote pup with chewing problems.
“Now he’s done it,” Minka said. “He’s chewed up the television remote. Jamie tried to tape it back together but after he chewed it up a second time… Oh well.”
Things weren’t any better outside the house where he dug a great den under the porch stairs. And, he had developed a ‘wander-lust.’ The fences grew higher but unable to contain him. He could slip a chain and as we are all opposed to chaining a dog, it wasn’t an option anyway.
All this time, he was growing into a magnificent animal. He was something to see and still is with the backdrop of our mountains he looks very much the wolf. He moved with such fluid grace along the lakeshore, totally in his element.
From time to time, my daughter, Minka, and I have seen a number of dogs like him. One day when we were collecting our mail from our post office, we ran into a woman who had an almost identical dog she was loading into her truck. We asked her where her dog came from and as it turned out, she got hers from a breeder who raises wolf hybrids. She told us that all the dogs that came from this breeder were at a minimum, 25% wolf. Well, that explained a lot of the behavior and some we are still dealing with.
Obviously Kaspar never found a new home. Eventually he stopped eating the house and endeared himself to his Minka and Jamie. Of course, he developed other doggie proclivities that both entertain and annoy us. He’s sneaky. He can disappear right before your eyes and especially so in winter. Being white, he slinks down in the snow and just evaporates and only returns when he’s good and ready. The dogcatcher made it her personal mandate to catch the scoundrel but he outwitted her for years and she’s never got him. He loved to ride in the back of Jamie’s pickup truck and was known around town as the ‘Drive by Barker,’ infuriating every neighborhood canine into a frenzy.
Kaspar is a senior now. Quiet and willing to sleep most his days, except for his usual morning and evening submission to the wanderlust in his blood. The local wildlife is quite safe since his old joints no longer allow him to run and nothing pleases him more than to find a nice clean patch of snow to curl up on for a nap.
The poor economic times have been hard on our family as it has been on many, but being close, our daughter has come home to live for a time, along with her fur family, Kaspar the most senior of them.
I step outside with the three dogs for their early morning and evening constitutionals, and as usual, Kaspar vanishes and I worry. I look for him in all directions. He is a dog that has never really accepted the leash and I worry for him. I know that in his present condition he is unable to harass wildlife, but I don’t know that anyone else wouldn’t see him as a threat. I worry that he might get hit crossing the nearby highway so I don’t call his name for fear that he would be distracted and my fear born out. Worried, I look out the upstairs windows to see if I can catch a glimpse of him returning. Finally after twenty minutes or so, I peek out the porch windows and see him curled up by the back door… a wolf at our door.
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