An extract from Charlie by Lisa Tenzin-Dolma

Here is a short extract from our new book – the heart-warming true story of how one-eyed Charlie went from traumatised feral dog to joyful family member.

My ears are ringing. Charlie, our one-eyed Romanian feral dog, has heard something in the distance – perhaps another dog barking, a car engine revving, or the red-tailed hawks calling as they fly high above us. He throws back his head to fully expose his throat, purses his lips into an ‘O’ shape and emits a lengthy, high decibel howl. Charlie is announcing to the world that he is here ... and that he wishes to have his presence acknowledged.

Charlie’s howls are, fortunately, a source of deep fascination for my friends in the small village where we live. However, they’re loud, and they carry across great distances. It’s hard to ignore them, and they can be a strain on the eardrums if they continue for long. So, in the interests of maintaining harmonious neighbourly relations, I call Charlie indoors and reward him with praise and a liver treat for coming to me. He sits and offers me a paw in a gesture of trust and friendship, and I take it in my hand and hold it gently as I thank him.
     Less than eighteen months previously, this feisty strength of character would have been hard to imagine, yet it was the reason for Charlie’s survival in the wild during the first years of his life. When he first came to live with us he was in a state of paralysed shock and terror. He was totally unsocialized, and had never experienced a close relationship with a human, or been inside a home. In many ways, Charlie seemed more like a wolf than a dog, and he has travelled great distances through geographical location and newly-learned behavioural responses in the comparative blink of his single eye. I have learned a great deal from every dog I have lived and worked with – especially from Skye, my wise Deerhound/Greyhound/Saluki mix Lurcher, who has mentored all of my fostered and adopted dogs over the past seven years – but Charlie has been, without doubt, my greatest teacher.
     The lessons that Charlie and I have absorbed from each other have relevance for each of us. We all experience the intense emotions that Charlie so eloquently expresses. We all have to find our way through the painful, thorny patches that occasionally block our way, and at times we all experience an urge to throw back our heads and sing out to make our presence known. This book tells the story of life with Charlie during his first eighteen months with us, but it is not the whole story because the events of his wild past can only be guessed at. Instead, what follows are chapters in the life of a dog whose world was turned upside down, and then gradually turned around again to find a different level.

Sixteen months after Charlie’s arrival, I take him and Skye for a walk on my own. This is a recent development. Usually, Amber and I go out together with them, so that both dogs can move at their own pace. Skye has slowed down a great deal, and prefers to amble along, catching up on news that other dogs have left in the field, while Charlie likes to trot, and still has a habit of either bolting or freezing when he sees anything unfamiliar.
     The boys dance with glee when I lift their harnesses and leashes from the peg in the hall, and stand quietly while I slip them over their heads and buckle them. Once out, they walk side by side, stopping to sniff around when some scent catches their attention. Charlie deliberately slows his pace so that Skye can keep up with him comfortably, and I’m touched that he’s so considerate of his friend. We greet people as we pass them, and one of my neighbours, who Charlie has never met, stops for a chat. To our surprise and delight Charlie walks straight over to her, sits to offer both front paws, and invites her to stroke him.

I fell in love with Charlie the moment Gina carried him, trembling and paralysed with terror, into our home on that cold February evening in 2013. His fear and confusion brought out the protective instinct in me; the desire to help heal the psychological wounds, as has happened with all of the traumatised dogs I’ve worked with over the years. Love and nurturing, combined with helping Charlie to feel safe, allowed the first step to healing, and Charlie’s behaviour leaves me in no doubt that he loves me too.

New! Charlie – The dog who came in from the wild by Lisa Tenzin-Dolma, with a foreword by Marc Bekoff.

The true story of a bond that developed between author Lisa Tenzin-Dolma, and Charlie – a traumatised, one-eyed, Romanian dog who lived the first 18 months of his life in the wild, never socialising with humans.

Charting Charlie’s progress and setbacks, it explains how Lisa worked with Charlie to help him overcome his extreme fearfulness. Click here for more information about the book.

Dakota & Alba – an extract from Among the wolves

Toni Shelbourne is part of a very exclusive club; one to which only a handful of people worldwide belong. She has had the privilege of working with socialised wolves, those who have been reared to be comfortable around people. Here is an extract from her new book Among the wolves ...

Dakota
Even though Dakota was a very well socialised wolf, her true instincts were never very far from the surface. To run away from unfamiliar or frightening situations is the first line of defence for any wolf, so although Dakota would be happy and unfazed at a busy event, a wheelbarrow out of place at home could be a big deal for her. She would refuse to walk past it, or wait until I did so in order to use me as a shield between her and this scary object. She was also wary of the metal traps and doors in her enclosure, especially when they rattled in the wind. Often, though, vocal reassurance and a belly rub would calm her.
     Dakota loved to sunbathe, and would often lay out to bake for most of the day. In the summer sometimes she would be so comfortable she wouldn’t even come in for her dinner, and you’d find her late at night, lying sleepy and content in her scrape (a bed that wolves make in the dirt). She’d let you stroke her, lay down next to her, or even use her as a pillow, but try to get her up and moving towards the kennel area where the wolves fed and slept and she’d become grumpy, so we usually left her there to enjoy the evening. Wolves don’t need to eat every day, and will self-starve if they feel so inclined.
     Photographic days at the UKWCT were a favourite with Dakota, who was always a bit of a poser (in her younger days, before she lost part of her tail and became ill with lymph node cancer, she was extremely photogenic). Dakota had her limits, even so, and after striking various poses (she seemed to have a stock of them, displayed in order: sideways look, sit, ears picked, howl), would let us know she was done with her adoring public. She always ended each session with a howl, after which she’d look at the handlers in a bored fashion, which definitely said “Right, time to go back and have a snooze now, please, I’m done toiling for the day.”

Alba
Alba was the male of the European pack, and lived with his sisters, Lunca and Latea. This litter was born at the Trust on 3 May 1999, and is said to be the first born on British soil since we eradicated wolves from mainland UK, hundreds of years ago. Roger Palmer imported their parents and an aunt – Apollo, Athena, and Luna – from Europe, and they subsequently went to live at Wildwood in Kent.
     To various handlers Alba was a wolf to fear. Domineering; sometimes unpredictable, he was an impressive, majestic animal who took no prisoners. I never understood why he accepted me into his inner circle and not others, and I never once felt threatened by him. Even at a very early stage in our relationship he would enthusiastically greet me by sometimes holding my entire head in his mouth!
     I didn’t meet him until he was about eighteen months old, and I was one of the last people he took to. Volunteers who joined after that time were held in distain, or targeted for an impressive display of posturing and growling. He could set a handler’s heartbeat racing in a minute if he looked at you the wrong way, and had the ability to stare you down with hard, glazed-looking eyes. If you saw that look, watch out!
     To me, though, he was just Alba, my mate, and we rubbed along together well. Although he was too strong for me to handle on a lead on public walks, I occasionally got to walk him double-leaded with one of the strapping male handlers that Alba liked. His power was amazing, and I’ll never forget the sight of him dragging around sixteen stone guys when he got the wind up his tail, which often happened when he’d had a dip in the pond on walks, and had become frisky. I’ve no idea how they managed to hold onto the lead ...
     I never really knew how Alba would be in the enclosure: some days he would want to play; others he simply rolled over for a belly rub. Either way he demanded respect and compliance – and he was bigger than me, after all!

One girl, eleven wolves – and a whole host of heart-warming stories ...

This extract is taken from Among the wolves – Memoirs of a wolf handler by Toni Shelbourne.

The fascinating story of Toni’s life with eleven charismatic wolves at the UK Wolf Conservation Trust, Berkshire, England. Over ten years she handled, raised, cared for and nursed these amazing creatures, and within these pages you will come to know the characters; laugh at their sense of fun, mourn at their passing – and learn to love them as she does.

Describing some of the best and worst of times, discover what happens behind closed doors when the public goes home, leaving just Toni and the wolves ...

Click here for more information about the book.