There are differing opinions as to whether wolf-dog hybrids make good pets, or if it’s even safe to own one.
Check out this post from PetHelpful.com for detailed information and advice on the topic.
My post has a different purpose.
Years ago, one of my tenants brought home a wolf-dog hybrid puppy. Was I happy he did that? No, especially since it was illegal in my state at the time, and I didn’t know whether it was dangerous.
But I soon fell in love with him (the dog, not the tenant!), and I wrote this short story you might enjoy:
A Wolf-Dog Hybrid Named Hoss
Hoss is the delightful, four-footed bundle of energy and enthusiasm who lives next door. He’s a beautiful blend of German Shepherd and Black Wolf, and so clearly shows the characteristics of both breeds.
He’s tall, long, and lean like a German Shepherd, and has the shiny black coat of a Black Wolf, along with a silly, smiling personality.
The physical strength exhibited in his majestic stance demands respect, yet he seems unaware of this. He’s compliant, obedient and gentle, as if he has no idea he could effortlessly and easily overpower the people around him and snap any one of us in his powerful jaws, should he choose to be the decision maker.
Each and every morning, Hoss busts out of house, bursts through the back door and out into the back yard as if he hasn’t seen the light of day in weeks. I can’t help but wonder if he has the song, “Born free!” running through his mind as he bolts out into the yard, sniffing nearly every blade of grass as if he’s never investigated this particular plot of land before.
Almost frantically, like perhaps he thinks he might’ve missed something out there while he slept last night.
He’s adopted a particular corner of the back yard as his own personal restroom, revealing his modesty due to the fact that he’s hidden behind the shed when he does his business.
Hoss is content in the backyard, stays put and rarely wanders, unless and until the two tiny dogs from next door happen to come out into the yard, bell collars jingling. Hoss throws back his head, then runs full speed toward them, jumping and running and playing with these two Benji-look-alike twins, which, to my delight, looks like a scene from a Disney movie.
He’s gentle with these little dogs, careful not to step on them as he prances around, and touches them only with the top of his snout, never his teeth. They run in circles as quickly as they can, buzzing around like little wind-up toys, while Hoss hovers over them in his big-brother like role.
All three seem unaware that Hoss could easily have one or both of them for lunch in one strong snap. That notion simply doesn’t exist among them, rather a sense of trust and friendship exists instead.
Hoss’s owner, Frank, is one of these guys who seems to drip with testosterone. He’s tall and muscular, wears CarHarts and work boots, drives a big, honkin’ pickup truck and does really cool guy stuff, like cutting down trees, shoveling mounds of snow effortlessly, and he spends his free time on a three-wheeler in the woods.
He’s just the right mix of masculinity and authority necessary for the ownership of a dog Hoss’s size, and Hoss simply adores him. It’s clear that Frank is King of the Universe in Hoss’s eyes, and I have no doubt that Hoss will gladly spend the rest of his days grateful and happy to be Frank’s devoted companion, settling at his feet in the living room at the end of each work day.
Frank takes no guff from Hoss. He’s strict and insistent, and has little tolerance when Hoss exhibits the goofy ridiculousness typical of a dog of his young age. I always know Hoss is in trouble when I hear Frank’s authoritative, “Hoss!” like when Hoss is biting at the broom while Frank tries to sweep the back porch,
Frank’s a no-nonsense guy when it comes to the management of this poochy, yet what he likely wouldn’t want the world to know is he adores this dog, would do anything to ensure his well being, would cry like a baby if anything ever happened to Hoss, and, here’s a little priceless piece of information: Frank plays hide-n-seek with Hoss when they’re home alone.
Hoss is highly intelligent, and learned most of the doggie tricks by the time he was four months old. My favorite is “play dead,” which is different from the “roll over” command in that it includes a tongue hanging out of the mouth while he’s on his back.
Hoss inevitably arrives at my back door each day for a treat. He knows the neighbor lady replaced cookies with milk bones in her cookie jar once he arrived on the scene.
His image at my back screen door has been fun to watch, beginning with his jumping as a small pup, unable to see in, to my seeing just two perky ears, then a hopeful face, and now that he’s full grown, the full head and shoulders which, at first glance when it’s dark, resembles a full grown man standing at the back door.
I’m getting used to that now, and have ceased screaming when that image unexpectedly appears. I open the door and he busts in like he owns the place, waits for the treat and will nearly take my fingers off snatching it up if I don’t remember to give him a “gentle” command before I hand it to him. He munches quickly while he bursts out the back door again….can’t be gone from home long, ya know…might miss something!
Most of the time when Frank goes somewhere, Hoss is fortunate enough to be allowed to ride along, and is so big, he looks like a person sitting in the passenger seat of Frank’s truck.
But sometimes, he must be left home alone, and I’m here to tell ya, it’s a pathetic state of affairs. Hoss howls and howls at the back door, as if he’s never had a friend in the world, and if I happen to look in, I’m met with a mournful, sad, long face with puppy brown eyes painfully peering back.
Hoss destroys his doggie toys within a week of receiving them. There aren’t many that can stand up to his crushing jaws, sharp teeth, and endless energy for ripping and tearing. Still, I buy him gifts often, not only to provide another few days of entertainment for him, but to provide for another “thank you” to me from Hoss, an event I’ve come to cherish.
When I give Hoss a gift, such as a large chew bone or a stuffed toy, he first runs joyfully to Frank as if to say, “Look what I got, Dad!”, but then quickly returns to me, and lovingly and affectionately rubs his forehead on mine as I kneel down to accept his gratitude. This melts my heart every single time. It’s worth a million dollars worth of dog toys.
I often wonder if we were all a little more like Hoss, perhaps the world might be a better place. What if we all woke up with endless energy and enthusiasm each and every morning? Or if we all had a genuine desire, all day long, to please those around us and make them happy.
What if we exhibited pure, unconditional love to everyone who crossed our path, always looked out for the little ones, never having a desire to hurt anyone, even if we’re bigger and stronger.
What if we remained devoted to those who have a hand in taking care of us, and if we didn’t worry about breaking our toys, but just enjoyed them instead. What if we were always enthusiastic about learning new tricks, and took the time to visit the lady next door often?
And what if we were truly grateful, no less the hundredth time than the first, for each and every gift we received, regardless of how small.
What if we followed the lead of this silly dog, and went about the business of spreading happiness, playful laughter, enthusiasm, and an appreciation of life and everyone in it, along with excitement in everything we learn and do.
And, here’s a concept: wouldn’t we all be a little less stressed out and cranky if we took time out once in a while for a game of hide-n-seek?
Thanks for Visiting!
Thanks for Visiting!Thank you for visiting my website! PeopleLovingAnimals.com is a website devoted to the care, health and training of dogs and cats.
I donate 10% of my earnings to animal charities. Debra
To read more of my essays and short stories, click here.
