My mom and dad tried to talk me out of taking that one. They said "This one just acts so timid. Why don't you get one of the friendlier puppies?" But my mind was made up. This was the one. Mom and dad finally agreed and we started home with my new puppy. Now, what was I going to name her?  Mom suggested Blackie, Dad suggested Daisy. I just didn't like either one of those names. When we got home, I immediately took her next-door to my grandparents, to show them my new puppy. My grandma made the comment "She looks like a wolf pup." That was it! I was going to name her Wolf. We send grew inseparable. Anywhere you saw me, Wolf was two steps behind or two steps ahead.

I guess I should explain. We grew up middle-class. My dad worked hard to provide for my mom and us for kids. There was not a lot of extra money for frivolous things, but we always had clean clothes and there was always plenty of food. We were living the American dream. We had a three-bedroom white aluminum siding house in the country, plenty of acreage to Roam on and play. Both sets of grandparents live within walking distance as well as an uncle and one of my dads sisters. We had cousins that we played with and they had pets . It was a wonderful time growing up in the 60s and 70s. I guess the spray/neuter your pet program wasn't really popular back then, because one Christmas morning we woke up and Wolf had 13 puppies on Christmas morning. I was ecstatic. What a perfect Christmas present, I thought. I was going to keep all 13 and I already have them named. Mom put the brakes on that real quick. I begged and pleaded , "Mom, please can we just keep two?" She was firm. "No we cannot afford more dogs." She told me.

I wasn't aware that the day would come when the puppies would have to leave. I was devastated the day that I came home from school and I rushed to play with the puppies and suddenly they were all gone. Wolf met me in the front yard and immediately I could tell something was wrong she seems so sad ,she kept walking from the house to the barn looking for her babies. I ran in and ask my mom where are the puppies. My mom was a pretty stern woman, she looked at me and stated that "They're gone. We found homes for them." I didn't believe her. I questioned her "where? Who took them? Can I go see them?" I ask. She refused to discuss it with me, after all I was only eight years old. When my dad got home later that afternoon I asked dad if he knew where the puppies were. He would not discuss it with me. Finally my older brother pulled me aside, and told me that my mom had our neighbor take the puppies to the local dog pound. I was devastated. I wasn't sure where the dog pound was, but I was determined to go there and rescue them. I started making a plan. I went next-door to my grandparents, and I asked my grandpa if he would take me to the dog pound so I could see the puppies. He said he felt bad about the puppies, but he couldn't go against mom's wishes and that he couldn't take me. He said it was better just to forget it and go on.

I cried myself to sleep that night, and I remember laying in bed and telling my sister, "When I got older, I would have as many dogs as I wanted! No one was ever going to take a dog or a puppy away from me again." I had heard from kids at school what happened the dogs that got put at the dog pound, but I wanted to kid myself and think that maybe all the puppies found homes. It was the only way I could wrap my little mind around it. I did not want to believe that my puppies were destroyed. I felt so sorry for Wolf. She walked around for two weeks looking for her babies. It was so sad. That summer, we had some new people move across the street from us. They had two kids that were older than us, and they didn't seem interested in playing with us kids.

We were watching TV one afternoon, and the lady across the street came over and knocked on my mom's door. I could tell from the tone of her voice she was upset. She told my mom that her son had been playing in the woods, and that my dog Wolf had growled at him and tried to bite him. I didn't believe it, Wolf had never shown aggression to me or anyone in our family. I said that her son must have done something to hurt Wolf, for her to behave that way. She told my mom that we "Either had to get rid of wolf or she was going to press charges."

Later that night I heard my mom telling my dad, they couldn't risk Wolf hurting someone. She would have to be taken to the dog pound the next day. I was up the next morning at dawn. I had thought that if I could take Wolf and go hide maybe this would blow over. I managed to hide out in the woods until about 2 o'clock that afternoon, when my brother and grandfather finally found me and Wolf.
I'll never forget watching my dad drive off with Wolf tied in the back of the truck. I found out The next day from my grandpa, that they hadn't taken Wolf to the dog pound. Daddy had actually found a man that worked with him that had a farm about 40 miles away, He said he would take Wolf and keep her on his farm. I still grieved for Wolf, but at least she was alive. I held onto that she was alive. I asked my mom, "Do you think someday we could drive to his farm and visit Wolf?" Mom said probably not because it was 40 miles one way, and it would just upset me and her both to see each other.
Dad came home from work a few days later, and I heard him telling Mom that his friend Jim that had taken Wolf, said she didn't stay there. She ran away. It made me sad to think that she was somewhere out there probably hungry and cold. But to my utter delight about 2 1/2 weeks later, I looked out one morning and there was Wolf on our doorstep! She had traveled 40 miles one way to find us. She was hungry, skinny, and dirty, but at least she was alive. I was never so happy to see a dog in my life. In my mind it was set. She had earned the right to be there and she deserve to stay. We were going to get a keep Wolf right mom? I kept asking right?

Sadly, my mom and dad decided that wolf would have to be taken to the dog pound after all. Her will to be with us was just too strong. She would never be able to be re-homed. And they had my uncle come and get her and take her to the dog pound.

I could not save her. That has been 50 years ago, and believe it or not it still hurts. I didn't want another dog after that of my own. We had family pets, but I just couldn't seem to get attached to them like I did with Wolf.

When I turn 12, I worked all summer babysitting for a friend and save my money. I was able to make enough money to purchase my own horse. A family friend had a American saddle horse, named Thunder for sale. He was huge. 16 hands tall ,beautiful red Sorrel color. He was so gentle anyone could ride him. His size did not scare me in the least. He was my baby.  I fell head over heels in love with this horse.

Later that year, I guess it was early fall, other people in the neighborhood that had horses were getting ready for winter, putting their hay up. I was going into junior high, and we had a neighbor that sold hay. My dad would go down and buy 10 bales at a time. We stored it in a small storage area outside of the barn. My dad came home one afternoon, and told my  mom work was slowing down and he was concerned about getting through the winter with out taking on another job. Mom had always been a stay at home mom up until that point.  I really didn't give much thought to how it was going to affect the family finances. Anytime we would get down to the last four bales of hay, I would always tell dad and he would go get more hay. When we broke the last Bale of hay, I noticed there hadn't been any hay brought in. So I told dad we were going to need to go get hay. Dad didn't say anything, but I remember I caught him glance at Mom.  Mom just shook her head no, as if to say, Don't say anything. I got up the following morning got ready for school, got on the bus went to school. Had no idea what was about to take place. 

When I got home from school, I changed clothes, and headed to the barn to feed Thunder. His stall was empty! The gate to the pasture was standing open. I looked around. "Where was he?" I thought. He must've gotten out of the stall and gotten through the gate. I searched for him for about two hours. Finally my brother came and got me. He told me Thunder was gone. My mom had sold him while I was at school. I ran back to the house in tears , angry. I screamed, "you had no right to sell my horse! He was mine, I paid for him with my own money!!!" She told me that with winter coming on there was no money to feed and hay a horse all winter, due to dad's work slowing down.  She walked over to her purse took out $75, handed it to me. She said "Here's the money for your horse." I felt like it was blood money. I threw it on the floor and ran out of the house.

Around 9:30 that night , my sister came and got me,  She told me I needed to come home. When I walked in the house you could've heard a pin drop. My mom just told me to go to bed and forget about it. There was going to be no discussion. The next morning at breakfast, I tried to get more information from her. I said "Where is he? Who bought him? Where did he go?" My mom always tried to paint a idyllic picture of what should've happened, and us kids always wanted to believe it. She told me she had sold the horse to some farmer with a big farm with lots of other horses. He was going to have a huge pasture and plenty to eat. He was in a lot better place. I went to school that day and on the bus ride to school, one of the older boys made a comment that sent chills through me. He asked me, "Hey Sheila! I heard my uncle bought your horse yesterday?" I said, "Who's your uncle? Does he have a big farm with a lot of horses?" He replied, He has a horse of his own. But he buys horses for slaughter and takes them to Kentucky.They slaughter them and make gelatin out of them, and dog food!" He taunted.  "And by now Thunders probably got Alpo stamped on him." I was so upset by the time I got to school, they had to call my parents to come get me. My mom was not happy. She told me to "grow up, that that was life, and he was nothing but stupid horse to get over it."

Again an animal that I loved had been cruelly taken from me and I was helpless in preventing it or saving that animal. I resolved right then that when I became an adult, I would start working towards saving and rescuing animals in like conditions.

People ask me, "Why do you do what you do, to help these animals? People say you can't save them all." When they say that , two words come to mind.....Wolf and Thunder. No one came to thier rescue and that's something I have to live with. I believe animals go to heaven.

I believe Wolf and Thunder are in heaven along with the countless other pets that I've had since then. Yes, I know I can't save them all. But the ones that I can save, are truly appreciative of my efforts I'm sure.

My parents obviously didn't have the heart for animals like I do. But I can happily say that I have passed my love for animals along to my son. Both of his dogs are rescues and they both came to him from very adverse conditions and were neglected and abandoned pets. I'm proud that Jason cares about pets as much as I do. He has a very soft heart when it comes to animals. I forgive my parents. As an adult I guess Mom and Dad did what they felt like they had to do. I'll never understand it, but I forgive them. But I also plan to work tirelessly until I draw my last breath, to help rescue and save other pets that are in horrific conditions. And I can also say, thank God I married a man that indulges my desire to help animals. He loves our pets as much as I do.

So that's why I do what I do. I guess it was a little bit of a lengthy story but it was two defining moments in my life that set me on the course to help pets like I do today.