A few weeks ago I went up to Wolf Point to see Tina and Darla, the founders of Wolf Point Pound Puppies. Things were hectic, as is often the case; they both work full time jobs yet manage to rescue dogs constantly. Tina was on her way to Plentywood, a 90-minute drive, to have 5 dogs spayed and neutered, because there is no veterinarian in Wolf Point. The vet in Plentywood is kind enough to spay and neuter at her cost, which is still a substantial drain on the financial resources of WPPP.
While Tina was up north, Darla and I went out to Oswego, a place outside of Wolf Point, to try to locate a litter of puppies that someone had called about. It’s a common story: someone’s dog got pregnant and they don’t want the pups. It’s a beautiful part of the prairie out there, and that afternoon was calm and quiet with beautiful light on the land. There were abandoned houses here and there, small and large, and I couldn’t help but wonder about their histories.
One house was completely boarded up, with close to a dozen old cars and trucks in the yard, and a tall red hound-ish dog stood in the front watching as we went by. It looked well fed, so perhaps someone was caring for it.
We found the house we were looking for and as we drove up we could see the mama dog, who came to greet us, and four pups against the house, who did not come to greet us. They were wary and sounded the alarm when we got out of the car. The three lighter colored dogs eventually came to check us out, so we were able to get them in the car, but the beautiful black and brown one, who looked to be part Swiss Mountain Dog, squeezed under the concrete steps and refused to come out. After tempting her with food and having no success, we left with the three and Darla had to go back two days later to get the shy one.
10-28-17 – It’s been almost two weeks since we rescued the pups, and they have been with a foster couple in Circle, 45 miles from Wolf Point. Today, though, they are on their way to Bozeman along with 15 other rescue dogs. I will be fostering the four sisters, the first time I have had foster pups whose history I knew perfectly. They were about 9 weeks old when I got them, and the previous foster parents reported that there had been some fighting and the black/brown dog got the worst of it; during feeding times she had stayed away from the others out of fear. When we arrive at my yard I let the bigger three out to explore and hold the smaller girl on my lap for a while. She is in shock. I don’t know if she got beat up by her siblings on the 10-hour trip, but as I hold her she doesn’t move a muscle, and she looks down, her eyes unfocused. When I present her with raw meat her nose does not move. I hold her and stroke her, and in a language she does not understand I tell her that things will get better now. Finally I let her down and she slowly walks around to explore, though obviously still very frightened. Once she realizes she can get under the deck, she does, and stays there. Her siblings check out the yard, the deck – above and below – and the place they will be staying just inside the house. I feed them my raw food mix and they are ravenous, probably never having had meat before. I worry about the dark one, and I go outside and drop golf ball-sized pieces of ground meat off the edge of the deck. Fortunately I see her little snout appear to grab them, but when I talk to her she hides. I drop enough meat to feed her well, then go inside and get an old quilt to put under the deck, as it’s going to be cold tonight, well below freezing. Later I go out with a light and discover that she’s snuggled into it. But when she sees me she runs off.
The other dogs are set up in a large fence kennel just inside the patio door, with warm sheepskin and blankets, and I leave the door open a little and hope she finds her way in tonight. As I go to bed, near midnight, I worry about her. I wonder how bad her fear is, and think back to the time that Grace arrived, two months ago. It’s a helpless feeling to encounter a fearful dog who will not respond to your well-intentioned efforts to make them feel safe. But Grace had puppies to take care of, and no one harassing her. This poor girl is the runt in a rough group of siblings and trusts no one. As i go to sleep, well after midnight, I imagine her moving away from her fear as Grace did. I imagine progress, I imagine healing.
10-29-17 – 5:00 a.m. I awake to the sounds of puppies bickering. I get up and as I enter the hall I see four puppies inside. But before I can rejoice the dark one notices me and bolts outside and back under the deck. I go back to catch another couple hours of sleep and think: progress.
I get up around 8:00, again to the sound of puppies. This time there are three, and they are wrestling. Every few minutes one of them screams like they’ve been stabbed. No wonder the dark one doesn’t want to come in. I didn’t expect this; all the other puppies have been happy and playful and well-adjusted. This batch seems lacking in socialization, and I wonder how that happened. They also all have a degree of fear. When I pick them up, they try to flatten themselves on the ground, and I get the feeling that being handled by humans has not been a positive experience.
I feed them, and after the sun comes up I go outside with my coffee and sit on the steps of the deck to watch the pups, and how they interact with my dogs. In contrast to Grace’s family and the subsequent pair, Bella and Jappy don’t have a lot of patience for this litter, perhaps because their play is crude and unrefined, and the pups think a good hard pounce with teeth bared is the best way to engage another dog. Then I look over and see Grace approach one of them. The other pup sits, and, with great tenderness, Grace lifts her right paw and holds it like a high-five, then gently touches the shoulder of the other dog two or three times. What is she saying? Welcome? It’s going to be OK? Please play with me? I don’t know, but I look at this little black dog who two months ago was hobbled by her own fear, and I realized I am watching her pass on the grace that Bella and Jappy gave to her when she arrived, and it brings a tear to my eye. Then I realize the dark one has come out from under the deck and is standing in the sun only a few feet from me. I say hello, she looks at me cautiously, but she doesn’t hide. We sit in the sun and watch the other dogs together while I drink my coffee.
It’s going to be OK. It really is.
During the morning the dogs explore the half acre behind my house. The dark one doesn’t venture far from the deck, but the others are curious, which is good. They also sleep a lot today, catching up after yesterday’s long and traumatic trip. It gives me time to think of names.
In the late afternoon I am in the kitchen and when I turn around I see Audrey has ventured into the house. It is twenty-four hours since they arrived, and I am amazed at her progress. She is living up to her name. When I speak to her, though, she moves over to the door, ready to bolt if necessary. I talk to her in a gentle tone and she listens, but her fear gets the better of her and she goes out, but stays on the deck looking in. Tonight it is supposed to drop in temperature and begin raining, and the area under the deck is not rainproof. To my relief, though, before I go to bed I see the four dogs snuggled up together inside, and I am grateful.
10-30-17 – This morning, way before sunup, I hear rain. I also hear puppies playing outside in the yard, and I am amazed. It’s freezing cold and they don’t care. I guess never having actually lived in a house before, they just consider the outside normal. I let my dogs out to play with them, and they all seem to have a great time. Audrey, once again to my amazement, seems to have lost most of her fear as she slept. She won’t let me approach too closely, but she doesn’t mind hanging around with the other dogs. At feeding time she comes in and sits with the others, and while the rest will take food out of my hand, Audrey will take it if I drop it in front of her. (If I put it in bowls, none of the dogs is satisfied with her own and will go for another’s, resulting in fights. When I feed by hand, they are angels, not even competing over my hand. Go figure.)
As the day progresses, Audrey seems to improve by the hour. She plays with her siblings for the first time, and plays a lot with Grace. In the afternoon they are playing at the sofa, and Audrey is a normal puppy, without fear. This is just a short clip of what the afternoon and evening were like.
Bozeman Foster Dogs 