Fenris by Jill Gorman / Jill

I first met Fen when she was a year old. I had always loved wolves but never imagined anyone would or even could keep them as pets. A friend of mine told me that some friends of hers had a wolf dog puppy, and it upset me. I didn’t know these people, but because they were friends with my friend, I eventually ended up meeting them.

The first thing I asked them when I met them, was if I could see their wolf dog puppy. They told me she didn’t like strangers but I could look at her. I opened the back door and saw her chained up on a short heavy chain, laying in the dirt. We just stared at each other for a while, then I shut the door and asked them if they could bring her inside.

They said, “Okay, but she won’t let you pet her.” I said that I didn’t care. They brought her in and I immediately starting jumping around like an idiot, trying to play with her. She stood there looking at me from a distance for a while, then she started jumping around like an idiot too. She didn’t get close to me until I sat down. When I sat down she ran across the room and jumped in my lap. Her “owners” said, “Wow, she’s never done that before.”

I felt a connection with her from the moment I saw her. It was as if she were already a part of me, but she wasn’t mine.

They were not good parents to her. They kept her on a short chain outside in the dirt and when she was inside, they had her chained in the laundry room. The reason for this, they said, was because she would jump the fence and run away if left loose in the yard and if she was left loose in the house she tore through the walls (which was evident by all the holes everywhere). She was left in the laundry room, tied up, sleeping in her own waste. They also didn’t feed her very often; when they did, it was nothing but dry dog food and their idea of discipline was punching her in the face and kicking her in the ribs. I never saw them do that, but they told me about it.

I begged them constantly to let me take her home, but they didn’t want to give up this possesion they bought. It was very clear that the reasons behind them buying her was so that they could feel cool saying “I own a wolf.” nothing more.

It was a year later that these people broke up. The girl asked me to go over there and break into the house to get something for her. I went, but only because I wanted to see Fen and I knew she would be in the backyard.

I climbed over the fence and saw Fen tied up, shivering in the mud. It was raining very hard that night and she had no shelter. I went to her, held her and tried to wipe her off with my sweater. I cried on her, hugged her and promised her I would take her away and give her the life she deserved. I swore I would. Leaving her there that night ripped me apart.

I eventually convinved the man to give her to me. I remember being excited and scared when they pulled into the driveway and she got out. I knew I was in for a hell of a ride, but I had no idea how awful those first years were going to be.

I knew nothing about caring for wolf dogs. I wasn’t prepared at all. I just knew that she was finally away from that place and I was going to do everything in my power to keep my promise to her.

I didn’t have a fence at that time. I couldn’t afford one, so I had to keep her on a chain when I wasn’t home. It didn’t matter where I kept her, she would always find a way to outsmart me and escape.

She got off the chain, I swear by reaching up and unhooking it from her collar. She would also open locked windows and doors. One time she even jumped right through the glass of the kitchen window.

I was on a first name basis with animal control, and I had tickets on my door almost every week. She was not friendly back then, either. When she escaped she would go after people and any animals she came across. Not because she was vicious, but because she didn’t trust anyone or anything. I believe she was lost inside and I didn’t blame her for any of it.

She never bit me; she never even growled at me, but she did have a fondness for nipping my friends on the leg when their backs were turned. I’m pretty sure every person who came to my house was bitten at some point. She was very protective of what was hers, when it came to strangers.

I was in court several times, paid huge fines and was even sued once. She was taken away from me one time and spent 10 days at the pound. Animal control could never catch her when they were called, so when she was taken away, I had to put her in the truck. When I called and asked how she was doing all they said was “disagreeable”.

I was terrified that they were going to try to kill her. I never told anyone what she was, and I believe that’s part of what spared her. Plus, they would have had to have killed me first. After I was sued, I got in trouble with the city and was put on probabtion for two years. I wasn’t allowed to have her in the city, but I put up a fence in the front yard and kept her anyway.

Of course, it was a privacy fence and she tore the boards off and escaped then too, so I put electric wire all around it and that kept her in. I sent her to my parents for a few months just to give people around here some time to forget, and perhaps beleive that she was no longer here, but I couldn’t bear for her to be gone for two years. I brought her back and had a talk with her about escaping, and told her if she didn’t stop I was going to have to dye her all black and make her wear contacts. I would have done it too (the dye anyway).

When I would leave, I would see her on the kitchen counter looking out the window. Before I had the fence up in the front yard, she would escape out of those windows a lot. I once saw her opening and jumping out the window as I was driving down Kansas Expressway. I had to JB weld all of my windows shut, but that didn’t stop her from jumping through the glass in the kitchen window.

For a long time, she was horrible in the car, too. If I had the window even cracked a bit, she would go nuts trying to get out. She was all over the car, going nuts. When I gave her baths, she would fight me and try to jump out of the tiny window above the tub.

She was very much like a rebellious teenager. The first few years of our life together, I was constantly on edge. When she ran away, I never knew if I would see her again. I would sleep in the kitchen and leave the door cracked open, crying and willing her to come back. Just as I would give up, she would come walking through the door, looking ashamed.

I didn’t trust her one bit. She always had complete trust in me, but she still made it known that she had a mind of her own and it was for that reason I couldn’t trust her. But as the years went on, I began to see her change and I started trusting her more.

She stopped trying to escape. She stopped biting people and other animals. She stopped being protective of what was hers around strangers.

She even stopped fighting the baths. She always hated baths and knew as soon as I was thinking about giving her a bath. She would do everything she could to avoid getting a bath, but once I had her in the bathroom, she would reluctantly jump in the tub on her own and stand there patiently, but not quietly.

Unbelievably, she didn’t even have to be on a leash anymore when we walked. That’s something that I just recently started trusting her with several years ago. It made me incredibly happy to see her running free at the creek. She never went too far away, and always stopped and looked back to see if I was still coming. When I said, “wait” she would stop and wait or at least slow down to let me catch up. When I said, “this way” she would go in the direction I was going. She loved walks. It was her favorite thing in the world. She would rather be out on walks together than eat. She loved to smell everything.

I never taught her anything, at least not in the same way most people teach thier “pets”. Her and I were with each other twenty four hours a day for many years. She knew how I was feeling, what I was thinking, and what I wanted of her. She was never my pet. She was always my equal.

There was a time when she was missing for a week from my parents house. That was one of the worst weeks of my life. I can’t describe the feeling I had when I was told she was found and she was okay. In my memory of seeing her again, I swear there was music playing. It was an unbeliavble feeling that went far beyond joy.

She never liked being around me when I cired. When she knew I was upset, she would leave. It made her very uncomfortable, so I tried not to cry around her.

She was never a licker, but there were a few times, she gave me a couple quick pecks. She was not snuggly, but she allowed me to hug her and she would sleep on my legs. She would kick me at night when we slept. I woke up several times to her breath and her face being right in my face, staring at me for I don’t even know how long. As soon as I opened my eyes, she slapped me in the face and jumped off the bed, telling me it was time to go.

I would put my open hand beside her body a lot and she would plop her head into it. She knew that’s what I wanted her to do. She never liked her feet being touched, but she would allow me to trim her nails. It even got to a point where she allowed vets to touch her and do what they had to do, even though she didn’t like it. She was cooperative. Vets even remarked at just how cooperrative she was having the most intrusive things done to her. It was obvious she was not happy about being at the vet, but she was more cooperative than any “dog” the vets had ever seen. Over the last several years, it was clear that she knew I would never let anything bad happen to her and that she was safe.

The tolerance she developed for things that in the begginging she made very clear she wasn’t having, amazed me and still does.

It was her strength and her ability to understand that lead to the change in her. She became someone truly amazing. No one will ever understand just how incredible she really was.

I can’t explain the connection we had. It’s something that we will continue to have forever. There are no words to describe it. What we went through and overcame together was part of what lead to the bond between us.

I lived for her. Her life became my life. Taking care of her is what I did. Watching her grow, inside and out, was what I lived for. She is the biggest part of who I became.

I know what it is to truly love someone because of her. My love for her was, is, and always will be unconditional. I would have protected her with my life without ever thinking twice and she would have done the same for me.

Being without her, physically, is something I’m having an extraoridinarly difficult time with. Everything I had was put into her happiness and it’s been that way for the last twelve years. It’s like I’ve lost my legs and now I have to learn to walk without them.

No one will ever know her as i did. No one will ever love her as I do. I’ve been doing my best to not think about her, but it was she who taught me. It was she who saved me.

As painful as this is for me to write, she deserves to be remembered and honored for the hero that she was.

As hurt and lost as I am without her by my side, I still feel an overwhleming sense of pride. I’ve never been more proud of someone or more honored to love and be loved by anyone.

 

We will never be truly apart,