Dogs saved my life – and now they’re transforming it again.

Dogs saved my life – and now they’re transforming it again.

Dogs saved my life as a boy and were the only creatures who understood me.

I had a tough childhood. My father was a hard drinker and could get very violent. I have ADHD – otherwise known as severe hyperactivity and am also dyslexic. It was so bad, by the end of primary school, I couldn’t even read and write my own name properly. I was unfortunate enough to have two real bullies for teachers and they mocked me mercilessly and often beat me when I couldn’t learn anything. Things weren’t helped by me being an identical triplet and my darling mother Sigrid, being a German immigrant. People whispered we were ‘Hitler’s secret experiments’ and treated us like freaks. To be honest, life before I ran away could get quite hectic – especially when I’m a natural rebel and stood up to every single bully in my life. I’m so proud that I stood up to them – but I really painted a target on myself by doing it.

Luckily, dogs were the saving of me. They never bullied me or judged me and they certainly never made me feel stupid. Instead they always showed me great affection and kindness. I never felt sad or lonely for long around dogs. Because they showed me a more optimistic alternative of life, I didn’t commit suicide, end up a drug addict or land myself in prison. For the past 20 years, I’ve done my best to help unwanted strays as my way of thanking them for helping me so profoundly when I was a boy. I’ve done a lot of work for rescue dogs for free: like making countless home visits to owners at their wits end, driving dogs across the countryside to new homes, feeding unfed strays no one can catch, rehabilitating problem dogs on death row with only days to be saved, and helping dog rescue organisations as much as I can. But now it’s time to call it a day. This year I’m finally retiring from the dog rescue world to pursue my more creative side.

To celebrate my life with dogs I’ve written about how my life with dogs began – and that was when I was a boy growing up in Garryowen in Limerick, Ireland. The result is my memoir, The Boy Who Talked To Dogs and I love it. Hilarious, moving, inspiring – writing this book really threw me into the past. I can’t believe how active I was back then – I never walked – I ran everywhere!

I write about what it was like to live in a big Irish family of ten and what it’s like being an identical triplet. There were also our two German Shepherds, Major and Rex, who were like huge furry wolves and constantly babysat me. There were the hilarious family moments but also dark, frightening moments like when my father Mick came home drunk and the front door slammed back on its hinges and we all ran and hid. I used to hide under the bed with the dogs and my brothers. In my book I also write about school and about the day I set my dogs on my two bully teachers when I jumped out the classroom window and they chased me home to beat me. Unfortunately my two dogs Rex and Major got put to sleep for being dangerous and that was the turning point for me. Everyone in the family was understandably furious with me – even angrier than usual – and that’s when I started feeling like a real outsider in my family. Even my brothers couldn’t forgive me.

School and dad’s drinking got worse so one night when I was 13, I decided I’d had enough. I climbed out my bedroom window and ran away. I headed for the railway track where the strays of Garryowen hung out – because I knew I’d never be lonely around dogs. That was in 1975. I ended up hooking up with six street dogs and we lived together as a pack for 3 years. These dogs changed my life forever.

Here’s what my pack of 6 strays looked like:

Mossy – the English springer spaniel. Missy – the little Skye terrier-cross. Red – the Foxhound-cross. Fergus – the wire-haired fox terrier. Pa – the greedy Labrador and Blackie – the Newfoundland-cross.  By the way, none of my dogs ever looked as clean as this – they were always scruffy, messy and mud-spattered. Their coats would be all tangled and in summer they had fleas – but at least we were all alive.

(c) Pixabay

Later, just before poor Fergus was shot by a farmer – another dog joined us called Skitty . She was extremely nervous and shy and was a whippet-cross.  

(c) Pixabay

(NOTE: These were not my dogs – but look remarkably like them.)

There were other stray dogs that drifted in and out of our pack. They stayed for a while before drifting away again. However, the original six dogs I listed above – and the later addition, Skitty – were the dogs I got to know best. We truly became a pack and they became my family and friends.

This is the kind of hay barn where the dogs and I slept at night to stay warm and dry. There were so many barns like this with the curved roof, made of corrugated red tin and open on one side. The hay was stacked almost to the ceiling and we buried ourselves down deep. You soon learned to live with mice leaping about you! I found this image on the Internet – it’s not a barn I stayed in, but exactly the same as the barns I slept in. I moved around the district staying in different barns so farmers didn’t catch me or the dogs.

Together, we loved exploring the beautiful countryside around Limerick. Here are some photos of Irish countryside on the Internet and they really throw me back to the past.

I especially loved running across the fields with the dogs during a white frost. It was like entering another, more magical world.

I’ll always be grateful to these amazing street strays for helping me find my true self when I was a young, troubled teenager. Back then, it seemed like the whole world was against me – and I can’t tell you how much it saved my soul that these dogs loved being around me. Dogs have an honor and generosity of spirit that I’ll always be drawn to. Their infectious optimism, as well as their serene calmness is amazing to be around.

For the last 20 years, I’ve been involved in the dog rescue industry and done my best to repay dogs for how much help they gave me as a boy. I can proudly say I’ve given as much free advice and help as I possibly could to anyone rescuing a dog from ‘death row’. Over the years, I’ve encouraged people to learn as much of the language and laws of the Dog World as they can. It’s about communication, not domination – that’s my motto.

However, this is my final year of helping dogs professionally. Now it’s time for me to move on and pursue my creative side as an artist-poet – I’ve been putting it off for as long as possible but my gut instinct is saying to hang up my battered old dog leash at last. I’ve written 3 books about dog behaviour, the sacred laws of the Dog World and the special language of dogs. I’ve created a blog full of free cartoon info sheets with solutions to many common dog problems. One day I’ll make free Youtube clips sharing everything I know – but for now I need to take a breather. I’m sad to be leaving the dog rescue world behind – but my heart’s not in it anymore – and hasn’t been for a while. I guess I’m feeling a little burnt out from seeing too many dogs put to sleep simply because they weren’t wanted anymore. For someone like me with my street kid past – it’s a little too close to home and can really scrape my nerves raw.

However, don’t get me wrong – I’m leaving the dog world with my head held high and a bounce in my step. I’m incredibly excited by the path of creativity I’m now following. It’s been the best remedy for my spirit – and my own dogs are loving being around the new, creative me. In 2009 I first began creating art and poetry and I’ve been working extremely hard and am now represented by The Brush Off Gallery in Nimbin, Australia. One reason I’m stepping towards my new future with such confidence is because once again, I have a pack of six strays at my side. Dogs have taught me how to be disciplined, organized around a daily routine and to have perseverance.

As you’ll read in The Boy Who Talked To Dogs, I certainly wouldn’t be the man I am today if I hadn’t been fortunate enough to hook up with some very kind and eternally optimistic dogs. They were so much fun to be around! Despite the hardships of living rough, we enjoyed an incredible amount of freedom and had great adventures every day. More importantly, my pack of stray dogs taught me how to be someone I could like and respect – so that I could finally return to live in the human world three years later when I was ready. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t smile at a dog. They’re just such amazing, wonderful creatures!