FERAL-DOG-BOOK "DUMP DOG" - EXCERPTED FROM CHAPTER 27 - LEADER OF THE PACK

The feral-dog-book excerpt takes place in July 2005, in the beautiful Alberta Rocky Mountains.

Owning a business comes with long working hours and little vacation time.

Our 2005 New Year's resolution was to not work on statutory holidays. So far, we had been able to keep it and therefore took the Canada Day holiday, July 1, off. To enjoy the warm summer day to the fullest, we took the girls hiking in Kananaskis Country.

Our destination was Lower Galatea Lake, a beautiful mountain lake that was well worth the 6.5-mile strenuous hike. Exhausted and hungry, but completely content and engulfed by the breathtakingly beautiful surroundings, we decided to rest for a while. We found a log to sit on, right by the lake, yet secluded. We unclipped the dogs to give them an opportunity to have fun in the water.

After communing with nature at this tranquil place, we shared our sandwiches. I had one made with butter and roast beef on rye for each dog, with a piece of cheese on the side. Davie inhaled the whole thing. Will carried hers to some bushes about a foot away, flipped it open, ate the roast beef first, then licked the butter off, and devoured the bread last. I guess leaving the best for last is not a concept known to dogs. It is more like: if I don't eat the good stuff first someone else might take it.

Although it is against park bylaws, we let the girls enjoy the hike back off leash. The decline was very steep, and both Mike and I found it too dangerous to be pulled down a rocky steep decline with a rock bedded creek below us.

Will invited Davie to play by bouncing around in front of her nose. Davie was not in the mood. She seemed a little tired from the long and steep hike up. She averted her head, telling Will she was not granting audience. Just in case Will wouldn't understand, Davie's eyes hardened. "You get out of my face, or else."

On the way up to the lake, Will had ample opportunity to sniff and check things out. Sure, she was on leash, but we let her have the six-foot range and also waited for her until she was done "reading". But she carried her tail low then, not between her legs, not fearfully submissive but casually low, saying, "Oh well, we walk. Big deal."

On the hike back to the car and off leash, her tail was high, at times even curled over her back. She was perky, bouncy and happy. Both girls stayed close in that unknown territory. Will busied herself with sniffing and marking moose poop; Davie was very interested in a pile of bear scat. She was ready of have a taste of it, but left it with a "leave" command - reluctantly and giving us a dirty look.

On difficult parts of the trail that has us balance across wet rocks while crossing a still snow-covered runoff, Will stayed ahead of everybody, scouting for the best passage. Once she found a suitable path, she moved behind us, making sure we were okay. She had never done that before, and I was pleased. The whole way back she led, loftily presenting her high tail and perked ears, proud to be in charge.

The trail was not too populated, but when we met the occasional hiker coming toward us, Will went into a down by the side of the trail when I gave her the "over" command. She remained in that position until I released her, even tolerated a couple of people touching her. Although she clearly put herself in charge, she was still receptive and compliant to my requests.

That is were Will's journal ends. That day in the mountains I felt, for the first time, that Will has reached the limit of her potential. That there wouldn't be much more to write about. That our lives together would be routine from now on. She might never leash walk for Mike or perform in a training facility. Agility, which I thought she would be so good at, will be practiced on hikes, when she jumps over rocks and creeks and weaves through trees. Her scent work will consist of finding balls or us when we play hide and seek.

Will is a wonderful dog. A smart friend and companion and very bonded to me. Will has developed much further than I ever thought she would. Maybe intuitively, I sensed her potential when I first saw her and was not willing to let this one slip away. My gift to her was a life. Her gift to me was an amazing learning experience.

Willkommen, the name we gave this feral dump dog, was meant to make her feel welcomed and cared for. Although it seemed that we were not successful in the beginning, Will never ran away, never got lost, and developed into an awesome dog.


That is almost the end of the book. Read what it took to transform Willkommen from an extreme fearful dog to a responsive family companion. Go from this feral-dog-book excerpt to order information or to Dump Dog to read how the book came about and how, and where, you can receive your own copy.


IN A SOCIETY WHERE THE SOCIAL ROLE OF DOGS IS CHANGING, WHERE MANY ARE SHOWERED WITH THE BEST FOOD, MANY TOYS, DAY CARE AND SPA TREATMENTS, MANY OTHER DOGS STILL SUFFER.

WILLKOMMEN SPEAKS FOR THOUSANDS OF FERAL AND STRAY DOGS, WAITING FOR A SAFE PLACE TO CALL HOME.



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