This post was originally part of "The Life of Zack" series on the "I Am Medley" blog.
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I wasn't literally raised by wolves, but I thought that would make a great title for this.
So, I had a bunch of dogs growing up. At any given time, I probably had at least five dogs.
When I was born, Mom & Dad had a little terrier named Cuppy (short for Cupcake). He was a good boy, and I remember spending time with him as a toddler. Mom & Dad caught me eating from Cuppy's food bowl with him once.
But Cuppy was up in years, and passed away when I was only 3 or 4, living in Dennison at the time.
Then there was Buddy. Buddy was a German Shepherd. We don't know what all he went through before he came to live with us and he never really talked about it. He was terrified of UPS deliverymen and didn't bark at anything. Dad thought he was incapable of barking.
Then we took in another terrier, or in this case a terror. Sheppy was so wild, we couldn't keep him in the house - he destroyed everything in his path - tearing things up and escaping fences were his specialty. So we'd tie him up in the garage, or put him out in the kennel, eventually realizing he was happiest tied out under a tree in the yard.
You know how we thought Buddy couldn't bark? Well, one day Sheppy the terror fixed that - he annoyed Buddy so much, that Buddy finally began to bark. After that, Buddy knew he could bark and we wouldn't hurt him.
Somewhere in there, we also took in a half-wolf pup named Lady. She grew up to be regal, aloof and very wolf-like. She was fierce towards strangers, but gentle and protective towards us kids.
The years passing, by now I had two little brothers. We were still living in Dennison and it was just the three dogs in those years. Buddy, Sheppy & Lady, the original pack.
Then, Buddy and Lady had some puppies. I named them Dana & Dinah.
At some point Dad even bought the land next to us, so we'd have another yard connecting our front and back yard. We had a blast playing with our five dogs in our huge yard.
By this time our dogs were beginning to act like an actual wolf pack - Lady was the boss and the others followed her. The neighborhood was also changing, for the worse.
We took in a sixth dog, his name was Spark. He'd been hit by a car down in the country near my grandfather's place and we brought him to our place and nursed him back to health. Not only did we have a large yard, we had a four-car garage, ample storage space and a kennel that connected to the garage, so we had plenty of room to care for another dog.
This is where the negative changes in Dennison intersect with the dog's story. Spark was a good dog, very happy and well, "sparky;" he also barked at all the creepy people in the town. Up to this point, all the drug deals in the neighborhood had been conducted in close proximity to our house, and Spark did not approve. He barked all night long.
There was also a guy who would ride his horse into town and tie it up where our dogs could see it and bark at. The police were called multiple times, but nothing changed. People were more concerned with our dogs shutting up so they could continue on with their lives, even if they were going out of their way to provoke the dogs. There were long sleepless nights, except for me, because I could sleep through a tornado.
One day, Spark fell ill. It was bad. Eventually, Dad took him to the vet - but he didn't make it. The vet diagnosed it as "parvo," but everyone that has dogs knows that if it was parvo all the dogs would have died. We all knew that the dog was poisoned, and more than likely the vet was just trying to avoid getting involved. I'll never forget how sad Spark looked and how hard he tried to walk to the car by himself on that last day, or how heartbroken Dad was.
It wasn't long after this that we began looking to move to the country, town wasn't for us anymore.
We moved to an old farmhouse outside of Jewett on December 31st, 2000. We weren't able to move the dogs right away, so Dad cared for them everyday on his way to and from work in Uhrichsville.
It was during this time that we took in Choco the Brown Dog. I won't rehash that story here, so be sure to read the blog about Choco.
Then we got the dogs moved down to our new house. Lady, Buddy, Sheppy, Dana & Dinah took to the countryside like fish to water. By now they were a full-blown wolf pack. Lady was the alpha, Buddy her faithful mate. Sheppy was like the eccentric uncle of the family and Dana & Dinah followed along happily.
I have so many memories, but I'll save most of them for the book that I plan to write about my dogs.
It wasn't long after we moved to the country that people began harassing us here too. Soon after we moved the dogs to the country, the dog wardens showed up with reinforcements and tried to take our dogs. Turns out that Dad didn't license the dogs soon enough and they were more than happy to seize them all. It never really let up either. There were some people who dedicated their lives to relieving us of our canine responsibilities.
We had people randomly showing up to criticize how we cared for the dogs. "They don't have enough food, they don't have enough water, their dog boxes aren't big enough, you don't spend enough time with them."
I spent almost all day, every day with them; they were loved and cared for, but it didn't stop everyone from getting up in our business and weighing in.
As the OG dogs got up in age, Sheppy got loose one day and ran away. He was always an escape artist and quite the adventurous little terror. This time though, he was captured by the dog wardens and kept locked in the back of the pound. We searched the countryside for days, repeatedly checking the pound.
Finally, Dad decided to stop at the pound one last time in the middle of the night. It was a Saturday night, the pound was long closed - but Dad was finally able to hear Sheppy barking his lungs out in the back. The dog pound staff knew who he was and had determined to euthanize him without us knowing.
Dad got a hold of the pound during the brief period of time they come in to feed the dogs on Sunday morning and we got him back. After his near miss, Sheppy never left our yard again.
In the intervening years, Lady had developed a sort of blood feud with some of my human relatives and one day, Dana, who looked almost identical to Lady turned up dead. I only later realized that it was most likely an assassination attempt on Lady. I mean, it was hard to prove, but people weren't able to mess around our house and yard with a dog like Lady watching.
More years pass, Buddy and Lady had one more batch of puppies. We kept one and named him Brownie. He was huge, brown with white paws.
We saved some strays too, even successfully reuniting one with his people. There was this one ill-fated dog I took in. He had belonged to a family member, but no one really liked him and they all thought he was mean. His name was Bubba and he was a good dog, but misunderstood. Lady did not get along with him.
Mom was going through cancer and us kids had to go away and spend some time with our grandparents while she received the dangerous radiation treatments. Dad took her to a cabin the woods so that she could be isolated and peaceful while going through the treatments.
Our dogs were tied outside and cared for everyday, but one day I had a terrible feeling that something was wrong. I begged to go see the dogs, but grandma told me that grandpa was getting us a surprise if we would just sit down and wait. I never got to see the dogs that day, but the feeling of foreboding never lifted.
The next day, Mom and Dad returned; but with the bad news that Bubba was dead. Someone had turned Lady loose so that she could kill Bubba. The terrible part was that I knew something was wrong and could have stopped it from happening, but with Mom and Dad out of town, no one was willing to take me down to see the dogs. I've always had to wonder whether the people who wouldn't take me down to the house were the ones who turned Lady loose. What was the surprise I was promised? That never really got answered.
Lady never showed that aggression to anyone else, and frankly, I sometimes wonder whether Lady did it or not.
Lady, Buddy, Sheppy, Dinah, Brownie. That's who was left.
After this, the dogs being up in age began to die off.
First was Buddy. I said goodnight to him one night and saw something in his eyes. He looked so tired. My Mom woke me up the next morning and told me he had never woke up.
Then Sheppy. Poor guy was sick for a few days and then a storm rolled in. I was sitting with him under a tree in our backyard. It had been one of his favorite places to be. Sheppy was always terrified of storms though, but I was afraid of hurting him if I tried to move him. In his final moments, the clouds parted and light shone down on him.
Lady wasn't herself for awhile before she went, arthritic and cranky. I spent time brushing her and talking to her. On the day she passed, I was glad she wasn't in pain anymore.
Dinah had puppies somewhere in those years, Griz and Ebony. Griz keeled over and died one day though. I found that suspicious like some of the things that had happened before, but wasn't able to prove anything.
We took in another stray that had been hit by a car. We named her Midnight and nursed her back to health. She had a puppy with Brownie named Bear.
One of my brothers took in another Labrador named Brutus.
Eventually, we found new homes for some of the younger dogs because they were killing our chickens. The older dogs passed away. Ebony was the very last one, she passed away just a few short years ago.
This account is abridged, because there's no way I could fit everything about my dogs into one post - and I'm saving some stories for the book.
I miss all my dogs, they were my best friends growing up and that's how I was raised by wolves.
So, I had a bunch of dogs growing up. At any given time, I probably had at least five dogs.
When I was born, Mom & Dad had a little terrier named Cuppy (short for Cupcake). He was a good boy, and I remember spending time with him as a toddler. Mom & Dad caught me eating from Cuppy's food bowl with him once.
But Cuppy was up in years, and passed away when I was only 3 or 4, living in Dennison at the time.
Then there was Buddy. Buddy was a German Shepherd. We don't know what all he went through before he came to live with us and he never really talked about it. He was terrified of UPS deliverymen and didn't bark at anything. Dad thought he was incapable of barking.
Then we took in another terrier, or in this case a terror. Sheppy was so wild, we couldn't keep him in the house - he destroyed everything in his path - tearing things up and escaping fences were his specialty. So we'd tie him up in the garage, or put him out in the kennel, eventually realizing he was happiest tied out under a tree in the yard.
You know how we thought Buddy couldn't bark? Well, one day Sheppy the terror fixed that - he annoyed Buddy so much, that Buddy finally began to bark. After that, Buddy knew he could bark and we wouldn't hurt him.
Somewhere in there, we also took in a half-wolf pup named Lady. She grew up to be regal, aloof and very wolf-like. She was fierce towards strangers, but gentle and protective towards us kids.
The years passing, by now I had two little brothers. We were still living in Dennison and it was just the three dogs in those years. Buddy, Sheppy & Lady, the original pack.
Then, Buddy and Lady had some puppies. I named them Dana & Dinah.
At some point Dad even bought the land next to us, so we'd have another yard connecting our front and back yard. We had a blast playing with our five dogs in our huge yard.
By this time our dogs were beginning to act like an actual wolf pack - Lady was the boss and the others followed her. The neighborhood was also changing, for the worse.
We took in a sixth dog, his name was Spark. He'd been hit by a car down in the country near my grandfather's place and we brought him to our place and nursed him back to health. Not only did we have a large yard, we had a four-car garage, ample storage space and a kennel that connected to the garage, so we had plenty of room to care for another dog.
This is where the negative changes in Dennison intersect with the dog's story. Spark was a good dog, very happy and well, "sparky;" he also barked at all the creepy people in the town. Up to this point, all the drug deals in the neighborhood had been conducted in close proximity to our house, and Spark did not approve. He barked all night long.
There was also a guy who would ride his horse into town and tie it up where our dogs could see it and bark at. The police were called multiple times, but nothing changed. People were more concerned with our dogs shutting up so they could continue on with their lives, even if they were going out of their way to provoke the dogs. There were long sleepless nights, except for me, because I could sleep through a tornado.
One day, Spark fell ill. It was bad. Eventually, Dad took him to the vet - but he didn't make it. The vet diagnosed it as "parvo," but everyone that has dogs knows that if it was parvo all the dogs would have died. We all knew that the dog was poisoned, and more than likely the vet was just trying to avoid getting involved. I'll never forget how sad Spark looked and how hard he tried to walk to the car by himself on that last day, or how heartbroken Dad was.
It wasn't long after this that we began looking to move to the country, town wasn't for us anymore.
We moved to an old farmhouse outside of Jewett on December 31st, 2000. We weren't able to move the dogs right away, so Dad cared for them everyday on his way to and from work in Uhrichsville.
It was during this time that we took in Choco the Brown Dog. I won't rehash that story here, so be sure to read the blog about Choco.
Then we got the dogs moved down to our new house. Lady, Buddy, Sheppy, Dana & Dinah took to the countryside like fish to water. By now they were a full-blown wolf pack. Lady was the alpha, Buddy her faithful mate. Sheppy was like the eccentric uncle of the family and Dana & Dinah followed along happily.
I have so many memories, but I'll save most of them for the book that I plan to write about my dogs.
It wasn't long after we moved to the country that people began harassing us here too. Soon after we moved the dogs to the country, the dog wardens showed up with reinforcements and tried to take our dogs. Turns out that Dad didn't license the dogs soon enough and they were more than happy to seize them all. It never really let up either. There were some people who dedicated their lives to relieving us of our canine responsibilities.
We had people randomly showing up to criticize how we cared for the dogs. "They don't have enough food, they don't have enough water, their dog boxes aren't big enough, you don't spend enough time with them."
I spent almost all day, every day with them; they were loved and cared for, but it didn't stop everyone from getting up in our business and weighing in.
As the OG dogs got up in age, Sheppy got loose one day and ran away. He was always an escape artist and quite the adventurous little terror. This time though, he was captured by the dog wardens and kept locked in the back of the pound. We searched the countryside for days, repeatedly checking the pound.
Finally, Dad decided to stop at the pound one last time in the middle of the night. It was a Saturday night, the pound was long closed - but Dad was finally able to hear Sheppy barking his lungs out in the back. The dog pound staff knew who he was and had determined to euthanize him without us knowing.
Dad got a hold of the pound during the brief period of time they come in to feed the dogs on Sunday morning and we got him back. After his near miss, Sheppy never left our yard again.
In the intervening years, Lady had developed a sort of blood feud with some of my human relatives and one day, Dana, who looked almost identical to Lady turned up dead. I only later realized that it was most likely an assassination attempt on Lady. I mean, it was hard to prove, but people weren't able to mess around our house and yard with a dog like Lady watching.
More years pass, Buddy and Lady had one more batch of puppies. We kept one and named him Brownie. He was huge, brown with white paws.
We saved some strays too, even successfully reuniting one with his people. There was this one ill-fated dog I took in. He had belonged to a family member, but no one really liked him and they all thought he was mean. His name was Bubba and he was a good dog, but misunderstood. Lady did not get along with him.
Mom was going through cancer and us kids had to go away and spend some time with our grandparents while she received the dangerous radiation treatments. Dad took her to a cabin the woods so that she could be isolated and peaceful while going through the treatments.
Our dogs were tied outside and cared for everyday, but one day I had a terrible feeling that something was wrong. I begged to go see the dogs, but grandma told me that grandpa was getting us a surprise if we would just sit down and wait. I never got to see the dogs that day, but the feeling of foreboding never lifted.
The next day, Mom and Dad returned; but with the bad news that Bubba was dead. Someone had turned Lady loose so that she could kill Bubba. The terrible part was that I knew something was wrong and could have stopped it from happening, but with Mom and Dad out of town, no one was willing to take me down to see the dogs. I've always had to wonder whether the people who wouldn't take me down to the house were the ones who turned Lady loose. What was the surprise I was promised? That never really got answered.
Lady never showed that aggression to anyone else, and frankly, I sometimes wonder whether Lady did it or not.
Lady, Buddy, Sheppy, Dinah, Brownie. That's who was left.
After this, the dogs being up in age began to die off.
First was Buddy. I said goodnight to him one night and saw something in his eyes. He looked so tired. My Mom woke me up the next morning and told me he had never woke up.
Then Sheppy. Poor guy was sick for a few days and then a storm rolled in. I was sitting with him under a tree in our backyard. It had been one of his favorite places to be. Sheppy was always terrified of storms though, but I was afraid of hurting him if I tried to move him. In his final moments, the clouds parted and light shone down on him.
Lady wasn't herself for awhile before she went, arthritic and cranky. I spent time brushing her and talking to her. On the day she passed, I was glad she wasn't in pain anymore.
Dinah had puppies somewhere in those years, Griz and Ebony. Griz keeled over and died one day though. I found that suspicious like some of the things that had happened before, but wasn't able to prove anything.
We took in another stray that had been hit by a car. We named her Midnight and nursed her back to health. She had a puppy with Brownie named Bear.
One of my brothers took in another Labrador named Brutus.
Eventually, we found new homes for some of the younger dogs because they were killing our chickens. The older dogs passed away. Ebony was the very last one, she passed away just a few short years ago.
This account is abridged, because there's no way I could fit everything about my dogs into one post - and I'm saving some stories for the book.
I miss all my dogs, they were my best friends growing up and that's how I was raised by wolves.
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I've decided to start ending my blogs with songs that I like. I do not own or endorse the music or artists, unless otherwise noted. Please enjoy my selection of the day.
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