And After Kissy . . . Mowgli!

by Janice Peters

A couple of months ago, I shared with you the story of Kissy, my alpha diva Husky, who went over the Rainbow Bridge in January 2009. This is the story of what happened next . . .

I don't remember how I first found out about Best Friends Animal Society, but from the moment I did, I knew I wanted to go there for a visit. So in 2001, I made the 12- hour drive to Kanab, Utah. Once past Las Vegas, the scenery improves and the area surrounding Kanab, which includes Zion National Park, Bryce Canyon and Lake Powell, is breathtakingly beautiful. Best Friends itself occupies many acres in Angel Canyon, full of towering red rock and huge vistas of blue sky and white clouds. Driving into the animal sanctuary feels like entering a magical place.

Angel Canyon

Founded some 20 years ago by a handful of determined animal lovers, Best Friends encompasses "neighborhoods" and residence structures for upwards of 1,800 domestic animals, all of whom are available for adoption or are in permanent residence. There's Dogtown (featured on the National Geographic TV show,) Old Friends for senior dogs, and a new puppy complex. There's the Bunny House, a bird aviary, open fields for horses, pigs, and sheep. There are cat dormitories and Benton's House, where cats with physical or neurological problems literally bounce off the walls in happy abandon.

Troubled and ailing animals are rescued and cared for here. Some with horrific injuries are lovingly nursed back to health. Many of the Michael Vick pit bulls came here for rehabilitation or just to live out their lives in peace. All the animals can stay forever, unless they are adopted to a forever home.

Best Friends is a several million dollars a year operation, funded almost entirely by donations. While they have fulltime employees and veterinary staff, much of the labor is provided by volunteers, who come for a few days or a week or a season . . .  sometimes they move to Kanab permanently, just to work at the sanctuary.

I stayed for three days on my first visit. Angel Canyon was often used as a Western movie set, and there are several cabins on the property that are available to rent. Visitors staying on site are encouraged to take animals for overnight visits, or you can bring your own pet along as well. Lunch is served to employees and volunteers in a dining area that has a gorgeous view of the valley.

I worked in Dogtown the first day, helping to exercise and feed the occupants of various kennel groups. I got to fulfill a fantasy of mine when I was asked to socialize two new puppy litters . . .  a dozen puppies climbing all over me and wanting to be snuggled! I was totally enchanted and wandered around after the workday ende,d looking at all the dogs in their large, open-air runs.

One dog in particular caught my attention. He was beautiful . . .  black with sharp white markings on his muzzle, ears, chest, and feet. Unlike his run mates, he didn't bark or come running for attention. He just sat there looking very aloof and forlorn. I started talking to him and he looked at me with his big golden brown eyes and stole my heart.

The next day, I worked at Old Friends with the older dogs, grooming and walking them and giving them all the affection they wanted. I love older dogs . . .  they seem so noble and wise. But I kept thinking about the dog I'd met the night before. I went back to Dogtown and asked about him.

His name was Mowgli, I was told. He was a one-year-old Malamute with maybe a bit of wolf, and had arrived recently with his sister. They'd been in several shelters in their brief lives, and the sister had already been adopted, perhaps part of the reason for Mowgli's subdued attitude. I asked if I could meet him. The staff caregiver offered to accompany me into the run, but warned me that Mowgli was extremely shy and avoided people, not liking to be touched.

We entered the run, and I sat down and started talking to Mowgli again as I had the night before. I held out my hand and he came over to sniff at it, then lowered his head to be petted. The caregiver quietly said, "I've never seen him do that with anyone before." I asked about taking him for an overnight, but was told no, as he was a flight risk because of his shyness. I spent a few more minutes with Mowgli, and came back to visit him once more before I left the next day.

After returning home, I kept in touch with Best Friends, sponsoring Mowgli with donations and periodically asking about him. They sent me his photo, which I put on the bulletin board in my office.

When my Lab, Lucky, died, I asked about adopting Mowgli, but I was told that my alpha, bossy Kissy would not be a good match for shy, unsocialized Mowgli. So I went to Woods Humane Society and adopted Sami, a 10-year-old Border Collie, whose sole owner had to give her up when he moved into a rest home. Sami was feisty enough to ignore Kissy most of the time and smart enough to submit to her when she got bossy. And then Kissy died.

Eight years had passed since I met Mowgli. I had not been back to Best Friends in all that time. I called and asked if he was still there, and was told yes. Lots of people were attracted to his striking looks, but discouraged by his shyness. I made reservations for a cabin and Sami and I set off for Utah. Sami turned out to be a great traveler, and waited patiently in my van while I was taken to see Mowgli again, eight years after our first meeting.

My first impression was how BIG he was! My 75-pound male Lab would have been dwarfed by Mowgli, who weighs 104! He was still beautiful and still very shy, but I was able to take him for a walk, first alone and then with Sami. Accompanied by one of the dog trainers, we took the two of them into an enclosed area to see how they'd get along. They were fine together, so Sami and I brought Mowgli back to the cabin for an overnight visit.

The cabin was small, and Mowgli wasn't used to being in an enclosed space, so he was nervous at first, but we went for long walks and drove to Bryce Canyon the next day, where we took more walks. After two days, I was sure I wanted to bring Mowgli home with us. (Sami probably wasn't as thrilled as I was . . .  he's so BIG . . .  but she's a trooper.) I filled out the adoption agreement and paid the fee, but again due to potential flight risk, the Best Friends staff decided to have two caregivers transport Mowgli to Morro Bay instead of me attempting it by myself.

So, a year ago as I write this, Mowgli arrived in Morro Bay, just a few weeks before his ninth birthday. It's been a wonderful year. He's taught me to be more calm and patient. Sami and I have taught him to be more trusting and affectionate. There are lots of stories to share, but I'll save them for another column.