Puppy Mill Rescue Ambush

There is another event I need to bring you up to date on, something that happened with Jason an Jessica, something that went very wrong, and made very timely my journey to Grand Lake and Dionna.

Jason called me on a Monday.  He said they were going to pull an op the following Wednesday. He said it might get hairy, that it would be good if I was there, but that they were going if if I was there or not. 

I said OK.  My being gone for a day or so would be good distraction for Jack, from his employment woes.  Or so I thought.  

I made some calls, got three other weredogs to agree to go along.  One of them, Holly, from my pack. The other 2 I know well.  Telling how would require too much story here.  I also called Diella.  I told her the situation, asked if she would like t come along.

She paused for some moments.  I was starting to think she had hung up, or the signal had ben dropped.  Then she said, “A puppy mill rescue?”

“Yep,” I said.

“And you want me to come along?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Why?”

“I got a feeling,” I said.

She paused long enough to lick one side of your mouth before she said, “Alright. I’ll come.”  I gave the coordinates of the rally point.  Before we hung up she said, “What form?”

“Show up in human,” I said.  “From there, your choice.”

I was also nervous about being away from Bella. Her lymphoma is progressing and she is declining - moving slower, eating less.  I dont like her being alone during the day without someone in the house who can use a phone.  Sherry works all day and Jack is gone most days at job fairs and job clubs and interviews and making ad hoc how-ya-doing visits to everyone he knows, in the hopes of drumming up some job leads. 

But, I had to risk it. I would be back within a day, 2 at most. The boys, Sven and Rick, are used to me “running away.”  But, Bella’s lymphoma is not. 

The rally point was half a klick from the target, a remote farm in south-central Missouri.  I smelled 9 people a 100 meters before I saw them. A quick head count confirmed that number. They were wearing various camouflage ensembles, military and hunting.  Most carried assault rifles. I saw one shotgun.  2 of the women had just a pistol.  

“Glad to see you,” Jason whispered, shaking my hand.  “We go in 30.”  I introduced my 3 friends.  He introduced his 7 seven friends. Jessica gave me a warm smile.  “Long time no see,” she said. 

“Too bad for me,” I said.

Jason and Jessica explained that they had done 3 rescues since the last one I had done with them.  No shots fired.  No one hurt.  Word was getting around. Pressure was being applied to cops to stop the rescue-raids, even though they were getting lots of popular support amongst animal and dogs rights and activists groups. But, all on the hush. No one wants word to get out that there are dog-vigilantes on the loose.  

“We got a call about this place about 2 weeks ago,” said Jessica.  “They even sent an e-mail with maps and bios of the owners. Real scumbags. 

“I don’t like it,” I said.

“Why?” said Jason.

“Do you know the source of the information?”

“No.”

“Too easy. Smells bad.”

Then I heard and smelled, at the same time, the new presence.  Everyone else did do. A weapon can make a lot of noise, in the middle of a still night, just being brought up to fire.

“Hold your fire,” said a female voice. It was Diella. I introduced her to Jessica and Jason. She had 2 others with her.  Both were werewolves.  I knew them by their scent.  We briefed Diella and the others on the situation and the plan. They nodded. 

“10 minutes,” Jason and Jessica went around whispering to everyone and holding up all his fingers.  Everyone did their last minute check of weapons and gear.  Everyone had military training. I could tell by their actions and movements. 

Diella leaned into me. “What do you think?” she said.

“I don’t like it,” I said.

She nodded. “Glad you invited us to this little soiree.”

We moved out in 2 files toward the objective. The intervals were a bit close for my liking. But the trees were tight and we were not expected. It was dark. I could barley see the girl ahead of me. But her scent attached me to her like a noise ring. The darkness was also welcome.  All 7 of us weredogs and werewolves began the changing, enough to be ready, and still keep our place in our files. 

All 7 seven of us weredogs and werewolves smelled it at the same time. We all froze at nearly the same instant. There was no time to snarl.  There was only time for Jason to hiss, “What it is?” before the night exploded.

First there was weapons fire.  We all went down, some hit, some not.  The firing lasted only a fast, furious forever. Then it stopped, replaced by a pounding silence that was heavy with expectation.  Before I could yell a warning they were in amongst us.

I was far enough into the changing that the instant burst of adrenaline shot me the rest of the way. Just in time. A form came at me.  Its intent was clear. I met it with an upper-claw that went deep into its body.  Dead. I tossed it aside.  

The fight was fierce and fast. Then, as dogs and wolves began to raise our voices in snarl and howl, they, whoever they were, whatever they were, were gone.  I told 1 of the wolves and Holly to post as perimeter security. The rest of us canvassed the situation.  

All the humans were unconscious or dead. 2 of their bodies were gone. Jason and 2 others were alive. Jessica was not one of those. 

We found one of the attackers.  Dead.  “What the hell is it?” said Diella.

“I’d say that’s one of your Neo’s,” I said. “Get a good look, and sniff.”  It was like nothing I had ever seen, or smelled. It was nearly hairless, and had a scent that was neither dog nor man. And it was in some kind of wereform. "Bring it," I said. 

We collected the dead and wounded and returned to the vehicles. I kept telling the security to stay alert. Diella rode with me on the drive back.  We talked about what to do.  

“They set us up,” she said.

“Correction,” I said. “They set Jason and Jessica up. They weren’t expecting us.”

“But, why?”

I didn’t know. 

We dropped the wounded off at a KC area hospital, said they had been attacked by a pack of wild pit bulls. It was the best I could come up with. I still feel bad. I have some good friends who are pit bulls. 

The WereWar - Weredogs and Werewolves

The WereWar was actually part of a larger war, between man and neanderthals.  It was werewolves and neanderthals against weredogs and men.  It had to happen.  Nature demanded it.  Neanderthals had to be wiped out, replaced by man. Wolves and werewolves should have been also. Weredogs have long sought to finish that task.  

But, the werewar never ended. It continues to this day.  

War is a reality and a constant. War is the only thing that unifies mankind.  Dreams of global utopian paradise and just that, dreams. Only war brings man together, unifies man toward a common goal.  I have been in many wars and can attest to the truth of this. 

“Ultimate unity requires ultimate war.”  I don’t know who said that. I read it once, a while ago. Maybe it was Orwell. But, the fact is that nothing unifies man and weredog like orchestrated violence. It is supreme in common purpose.

Or so I for so long thought.

I have been going out a lot nights, while here, running through the snow shrouded woods, tracking more scents and sounds than I could list here.  The other day Ganieda told me we were going out that night.  She didn’t ask me.  She just said, “Be ready to go.”

It was an hour after midnight when we walked into an open clearing high up in a mountain near her cabin.  It took us 2 hours to get there, as dogs.  Would have taken us twice as long on 2 legs. 

My hackles went up immediately.  I sensed them, many of them, and started changing. “Relax,” said Ganieda.  “And trust me.”  Then about 2 dozen small canine shapes appeared on the periphery of the clearing, from out of the trees.  Coyotes.  They all sat, casually, with no care in the night, and started to howl.  

“What’s going on?” I said.

“I want you to meet someone,” said Ganieda.

The clearing was sprinkled with rocks and boulders of various sizes. Most seemed illuminated in the moonlight.  I was canning to my left when 2 of the smaller boulders stood up.  Werewolves.

I started formulated an exit plan. Would coyotes try to contain a weredog?  I’ve never heard of such.  At the same time I watched the 2 werewolves as they approached me and Ganieda.  They showed no signs of aggression or bad intention.

When they were about 6 paces away, Ganieda said, “Chester, this is Wulfstan and Beatrice.  Wulfstan and I have known each other a very long time.”

“Beatrice?” I blurted.

She gave me a hard stare. “Yeah. Beatrice.”  Her hackles and lips twitched, fought for control.  I tried to smile as sincerely as I could muster up.

“We’ve read your blog,” said Wulfstan, the larger, older one, and obviously in charge.

Wulfstan explained why he asked Ganieda to arrange a meeting.  “You are somewhat well known amongst wolves,” he said, “because of your blog.”

I was surprised, but did not let it show. “How come you never post to it?”

“Not our way.”

They explained that they wanted to end the eons-old hostilities between werewoves and weredogs. They said this new species of neo-canine was a great threat and we needed to come together it survive it.”  

“All werewolves want this?” I said.

Wulfstan said there are old school werewolves and new school werewolves.  The old school are those who want revenge, to spread death and destruction, to treat civilization as their private candy shop and hunting ground.  The new order wolves want to get along, to live in harmony with dogs and even mankind.  Those wolves understand, he said, that it is essential to their survival.

The problem, I said, is whether this is even possible.  Is it possible for weredogs and werewolves to co-exist in harmony?  No one answered.  Is it possible for Christianity and Islam to co-exist?  Republicans and Democrats?  India and Pakistan?  Women and men? KU and MU? 

There are big differences in how wolves live and how dogs live.  Some might be overcome.  Others are problematic.  Werewolves, like wolves, live in small packs, or alone, as lobo solos.  But even wolf packs do not fit into a broader hierarchy, like dogs.  

Weredogs all are members of a pack, which then fits into a series of larger packs.  There is no global hierarchy, no papal weredog.  But, all weredogs are connected.  It facilitates communication, coordinates efforts, speeds reactions, ensures survival.  We are like humans in this way. 

There are always those few cases of solitary dogs who are not in a pack, who are out on the fringes of weredogdom. But it is snarled upon. They are called, by some, “pero solo.”

Werewolves, like their neanderthal partners, do not tend to coordinate or communicate well.  Oh sure, there are various werewolf blog and chat rooms. But, most of those, possibly all, are actually people with werewolf fetishes. Because werewolves don’t coordinate well.  Until recently.

Lack of communication and coordination led to the defeat and extinction of the neanderthals, and nearly, I say “nearly,” much to weredog chagrin, to werewolf extinction. How close?  Look at wolf populations.

Wolf and werewolf populations are directly related.  Man nearly wiped out wolves, worldwide.  At the same time, werewolves teetered perilously on the edge of extinction.  The same is true of dogs.  If you look at the populations of dogs worldwide you get a sense of weredog population and distribution. To my knowledge, there are no a lot of weredogs in Korea, where dog meat is a delicacy and dog shelters are unnecessary. 

“I am seeing more restaurants, bars and casinos run by wolves,” I told Wulfstan.  “This is new.  The only wolf bars I ever knew about were for luring in prey.”

Wulfstan smiled in a way I could not read.  His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Yes, well, I wont deny there has been some of that in the past,” he said. “Probably still is. But, werewolves are moving into the modern era. We see the advantages of moving out of the woods and into the cities, of living with and getting along with men and dogs.”

I asked how long this has been going on, this werewolf renaissance.  Wulfstan said over about the last 100 years, but at full bore since World War 2. Since WW2?  If that is true, how come I did not know about it?

We returned to Ganieda’s cabin about an hour before sunrise. I was hungry, wanted to swim in her pool, peruse and read more of the books in her library.  Instead, I slept, and napped most of the day, as a dog.  Some days it is good to be a dog. No one knows napping like a dog.

So, can weredogs and werewolves exist without this war to animate them?  I don't know about men, but my recent experiences with Diella, Dionna and Wulfstan lead me to think it is possible. And risky?  Hell, yes. 

WereHistory

I have been at Ganieda’s now for over a week.  Time slips here.  I’m not even certain that time reaches us here.  

I have learned a lot in my time here. Gaieda is very wise.  She knows much that is not known, by most weredogs, or people. 

I have not felt this rested in a long time.  I have rested and run, eaten and talked at length with Ganieda, and others, about many things.  But, now it is time to lay down some of what is know, within werelore, about the history of canines, dogs, and wolves.

Canines first made their appearance about 40 million yrs ago.  Since then there have been many canine species come and go, small and large. One of the smallest still is around today, foxes.  Not long ago, around a million years, there was a canine that scientists call “borophagus.” It looked like a gray wolf and was as big as a lion.  Ganieda says there were canines much smaller, and much, much larger. 

Just for perspective: the first hominids, primates who walked upright, on 2 legs, first stood up to take a bow around 4.5 mil years ago.  Homo habilis was around from 2.5 million years to around 1.5 million years. Best scientific estimates are that around 250,000 years ago homo sapiens, modern man, showed up in what is now Africa.

230,000 years ago neanderthals appeared in Europe. They were better suited to ad preferred colder climates.  They had what is now Europe all to themselves.  For a while.  Then modern man started showing up.

Around 40,000 years ago humans began migrating from Africa to Europe.  All was good.   Everyone got along and lived peacefully. For a while.  Then something happened, and fighting broke out between the two species. War ensured for about 10,000 years.  

Homo sapiens, modern man, proved to be better at fighting and killing.  He was more intelligent. That allowed him to make better weapons, devise better tactics, for hunting and fighting. Man’s language skills were far superior to neanderthals. That allowed for more coordination and sharing of information, building of tribes and communities, which meant greater numbers, more people. 

Starting about 28,000 years ago neanderthals began to recede and hide, to go higher into mountains and hills, farther into remote reaches, to escape men.  Ganieda says some were absorbed into human populations.  That explains some of the men I have known.

Something happened around 500,000 years ago. It sparked a lot of diversification, adaptation and change. It is directly responsible for man’s evolution, and or werefolk.  Human science doesn’t know what the event was, nor does werelore.  Some say it was an asteroid loaded with some sort of minerals that radiated everything.  Some say it was  a magnetic shift in the earth.  Some say it was aliens.  Ganieda says it was none of those.  But, she will not say what, only smiles.

Wolves preceded dogs just as neanderthals preceded man.  It was nature’s intent for us to replace wolves and for man to replace neanderthals.  Man showed up around 250,000 years ago. Dogs made their first bark around 400,000 years ago.  That is contrary to what human scientists say.  They trace dog origins back to between 50,000 and 20,000 years ago.  

Werewolves date back to around that event 500,000 years ago, whatever it was.  We, weredogs, made out first howl around 300,000 years ago. Things were getting crowded.  This planet, even though we did not think in terms of “planet” back then, could only host so many super-predators.  2 of us had to go. 

There was some initial talk between wolves ad dogs about banding together to get rid of  the hominids.  It was quickly realized that would not work. So, the alternative was for each of us, dogs and wolves, to choose up between men and neanders.  We, dogs, recognized your supreme abilities as hunters and warriors.

We won.  24,500 years ago is the last known neanderthals evidence.  It was found about 10 years ago in a high mountain cave in Italy.  Wolves, on the other had, survived and, contrary to popular belief, adopted the strategy of keeping their distance from man and dog, but waiting for the opportunity for revenge.

We maintained our bond after the war. From 15,00 to 8,000 years ago, the dog-man alliance became solid, globally, everywhere.  Dogs and men were inseparable.  Over time weredogs slipped back into dog anonymity and allowed weredog mythology to blend with that of werewolves and into quaint antiquity.  By the time the last ice age ended, about 12,000 years ago, man and dog covered the globe, thanks to land bridges, boats, and the insatiable and keenly coordinated tooth and spear. 

3,500 yrs ago was dawn of civilization. Cities started rising,  as did armies, wars, agriculture, markets, commerce, art, philosophy, architecture and codified laws.  Dogs were right by man’s side, and weredogs were right behind him, watching, staying alert.

OK.  Enough history.  Time to eat. Ganieda makes a venison hash that will make you howl for sure. 

More later.  I need to explain werephysiology and weresex, to prove to those of you who doubt that this is for real.  

Enforcer Dogs

Swiftpaw mentioned surprise about the enforcer dogs, weredogs, that were sent to shut me up and shut down this blog. Let me explain.

Enforcer dogs are not part of any pack. So, they were not sent by my pack. They were sent by the alpha pack that is over all the packs in the Midwest region, of which my pack is part. 

Weredogs are organized by land masses.  My pack is in North America. We recognize countries for humans, of course, but not for own organization and needs. It's easier. England, Japan and Australia have their own hierarchy, as does Europe, which s separate from Scandinavia. India and China are separated by the Himalayas. You get the idea. 

There is not much known about enforcer dogs, by most weredogs. They are somewhat shrouded in secrecy and mystery. It is said that is necessary for them to do their jobs effectively. But, I have never liked it. 

The problems many weredogs have with this blog are not safety. No. They have to do with secrecy. It has always been the weredog way, for thousands of years now, to stay under the radar, to let mankind think that all dogs are just dogs, to let werwolves take all the wereheat, not to rock the boat, to serve mankind to the best of our ability. Besides, we know how man is with surprises, and things he does not understand.  Better that we stay hidden, goes the logic. 

But, I believe it is time for change. The purpose of this blog is one of communication, between weredogs. Although, it is also providing communication with werewolves. And if some humans find their way here . . . so be it. It's time. Things have changed dramatically in the last 50 years, big time in the last 5. The arrival of the neo's changes everything. 

But, the more I talk about this, the more I realize that I need to go back to the beginning and explain things form there. I need to talk to Ganieda, then I will post on that. 

Hanging with Ganieda and Coyotes

I am staying at a weredog safe house near Tahoe. The Weredog who owns and oversees everything here is one of the oldest weredogs living.  She knows much and is wise. She and this place are unique because she stays off the weredog radar, is not part of any weredog pack, and is allowed to be so. There is something about her, some sort of power or knowledge, that makes the weredog hierarchy respect her, allows her to keep her solitude. Rumors are that werewolves won't mess with her either. Her name is Ganieda.

Another interesting function of this place is that she has a pact with the local coyotes, of which there are many. They provide the ears and noses for perimeter security for many miles around this place in every direction. In turn, she protects them, even feeds them. I have heard rumors that she even has feasts for them, parties. A coyote party - that is something I'd like to see. 

I've also heard rumors that sometimes wolves and werewolves attend. Bet that makes the coyotes nervous. Still, what a party. 

The deal with coyotes and wolves is this: Wolves eat coyotes. Sound terrible? Well, wolves eat anything they can get their teeth into. Most wild beasts do. But, it does bother most weredogs also, as it violates the canis sense of unity, seems somewhat cannibalistic. Of curse, wolves don't see it that way.

Recent studies by biologists working for the Department of the Interior found that coyote populations in areas shared with wolves are 30% lower than in areas with no wolves. The coyote is top wild dog in North America, except in areas they share with wolves. 

So, coyotes do not like or trust wolves, or werewolves.  Or dogs and weredogs for that matter. But, they trust Ganieda. 

Holly keeps me informed about things back home. No more wolf sign or scent since I left. And no neo sign or scent. She said the neo situation is being debated amongst all packs. But, many are not taking it seriously, claim that it is hype and over-reaction. New species? Puh-leeeeease.

There is a weredog in Rick and Sven's school. She is a teacher. She is keeping tabs on them, keeping me updated. 

Warin keeps tabs on Jack at the bars. Buys him drinks occasionally, gets him talking. Warin says Jack is drinking more, much more. He can smell it on his breath, on his skin, in his blood. Worries me. I am working on getting someone close to Sherry. 

I have to eat and sleep now. I was up all night running with the coyotes. I am trying to win their trust. It is hard. They don't want to trust me, and I have a long time of thinking of them as devious little vermin. But, if we are going to come together with wolves and address this neo threat, coyotes need to have a seat at the table. 

I plan to be here a while, maybe a week or so. I need to rest, plan.  And I have much I want to learn and find out form Ganieda.  She has answers. I can smell them on her. 

I'm Still Breathing...Barely

I'm here. But, I can't say where "here" is.  I'm being tracked.

I was censured by my grand pack and three others.  They said my blog, this blog, must be shut down.  I initially submitted, obediently sat back on my haunches and said, "OK." But, after thinking about it I changed my mind.  It's bullshit unless they can give me a solid reason.

Then 2 things happened at once:  Word came to me from Dionna that she needed my help, desperately.  So, I began formulating plans to go to Colorado. At that same time word came to me that a squad of enforcer dogs were being sent to force me to shut down this blog.  So, needless to say, the time seemed right to get out of town.

I will post soon about the trip to Grand Lake, to aid Dionna.  And I need to explain the history of the millenia-long war between weredogs and werewolves.  And I need to tell everything I know about this new species that we are calling the Neo's.  Their existence threatens that of humans.  And dogs.  And wolves.  And many other species. 

And I found out something very shocking about Warin, that ties into all of this.  And I found out information about Rex's murder, who did it. 

Right now I have to get moving.  Someone is closing in.  I can smell them.  

On top of all that I have been gone for weeks from home and have no idea if Bella is alive or dead, if Sherry and Jack are still together, how Rick and Sven are, and who is watching out for Rooster and Sparkle.  Also, it was not werewolves who have been coming around the house. It's been Neo's.  I got a covert message to Holly asking her to watch out for my family.  She agreed, of course.  She said she and Warin would keep an eye on them.

Gotta go.  Tired.  Had roadkill for breakfast.  Not bad.  You can live on it.  I've had worse.  But, I would howl or some of Jack's left-over chili about now. 

Thank you Brandon, Tabitha and Cheryl for the messages.  Sorry it took me so long to respond, to post. Been busy.  Been some close calls.  

So, for now, call me "Pero Solo."