Feral or Friend ?

Meet Blake.   He was found in the Shawnee National Forest by hikers who then contacted a local no - kill shelter.   The shelter trapped Blake along with his mother.    I was contacted by the shelter because he had no people skills.   Often there is talk about feral dogs, such as Blake and his mom, with contempt and fear.   That comes from lack of education.  This dog was no monster.  He had no idea how to eat or drink out of bowls, climb steps, allow human contact, or anything a dog raised in our homes would have.  However, he was not a lost cause. 
A compact boy with a huge spirit, I worked endlessly with him.  It took three weeks before he would use bowls for food or water, two months to learn the steps, and hand contact was a long challenge.
But I never gave up.  As happens sometimes, this foster kid became my dog.  He soon exceeded all my goals for him.   He began to excel in obedience and trust.   Although his circle of family and friends was small, he still attended training classes with me, and enjoyed rides in the car, trips to the lake and vacations.
 His favorite sport was mouse hunting.    He would , very excitedly , lead me to an area in the garage and then lay there.  Looking back to me telling me the mouse was right there.
Of course I could not see it.   Often he would catch a mouse on his own,  racing in the dog door and show me his prize, offering to share with me.   I always politely refused.
Dumped dogs in the country are a common site.  Sometimes farmers feed them, more often they are shot, killed by cars or starve to death.   It is NOT natural for a domesticated dog to be dropped off in the wilderness and expected to thrive.  A lucky few are saved and rehabilitated.    If you ever think you can help a litter of puppies by dumping your problem onto someone else' property, think again.  You have only caused grief and maybe heartache for these little ones. 
Yes I have read about the occasional pack of feral dogs that will bite or kill a person.   But the amount of times this happens compared to the quantity of strays is infinitesimal.   Blake did not have an easy life.   I wondered what his DNA would say he was so I had him tested with a local online kit.   For a 35 pound dog, no higher than a beagle , I was surprised.   The report came back with Chow Chow, Rottweiler, Collie, and Greyhound.   Reading DNA can be misleading as it has limitations on recognized breeds and this was fourth removed.     Still Blake had the heart of a warrior but the misfortune of bad genes.   He had a bad under bite, like a bull dog,  terrible arthritis most of his adult life, and luxating  patellas (knee caps that slid out of place every time he bent his rear legs ).    For all his problems he got the best of veterinary care and tons of love.   It was beyond sad when he looked up at me one day, near his tenth year of life with me, and clearly he was in unbearable pain.    I never allow my animals to linger and suffer for my sake.    He had a week of being carried everywhere, as he could barely walk, with all the snacks he wanted.   On his last day we drove to the lake and sat alone on the shore and said good bye.    I still miss my little man but I know he was snatched out of harms way by greater hands than mine and placed into my life for learning.   Thank you Blake for all you taught me.


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