Untamed Spirit by Tracy Stefan

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The contents of this work, including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2020 by Tracy Stefan No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher. Dorrance Publishing Co 585 Alpha Drive Suite 103 Pittsburgh, PA 15238 Visit our website at www.dorrancebookstore.com ISBN: 978‐1‐6453‐0673‐3 eISBN: 978‐1‐6453‐0663‐4

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This book is lovingly dedicated to my beloved, wild, four-legged companion, sweet Mable-Ray. I will always carry her spirit in my heart. It is also dedicated to all the four-leggers in need of loving adoption.

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Table of Contents Chapter 1: “In the beginning...” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 2: “Real isn’t how…” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 3: “The larger our…” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 4: “There are stars…” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 5: “So I commend” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 6: “The art of…” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chapter 7: “Fare the well…” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Chapter 1 “In the beginning of all things, wisdom, and knowledge were the animals, for Tirawa, the One Above, did not speak directly to man. He sent certain animals to tell men that he showed himself through the beasts, and that from them, and from the stars and the sun and the moon, should man learn…all things tell of Tirawa.” Eagle Chief (Letokots.Lesa) Late 19th century, Pawnee I was playing in a cardboard box with my siblings in the supermarket parking lot when a young teenage girl picked me up and brought me home. She carried me up the long road to the small cabin in the neighboring woods where she lived with her single mother, her sister, and two brothers. I was named Mable, which means “adorable” in Latin.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca. Life was good. The children loved me and lavished me with affection. The deep Redwood forests and sprawling ocean shores were our playgrounds. The local attitude was that it was cruel and unnatural to spay me, so I had my first litter of eight puppies when I was just one year old. A neighboring large, white wolf was the father. My babies grew quickly and were all adopted except for one male.

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Avenue of the Giants, Founders Grove, Ca.

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My son and I played tag under the canopy of redwoods, taking turns hiding from and chasing each other. My life changed abruptly. The woman and her four children who took care of me and my son were forced to evacuate their home by the man on the bicycle who owned the land. Having little help and even less means, they reluctantly left. They were allowed only one dog in their new home, so they took my son. I waited daily by the empty cabin for my family to return. They did come back a few times, but only to collect their belongings. A neighbor promised he would take care of me. My new two‐legger was a kindhearted man as tough as his circumstances. He was alone with children to feed. He worked hard and was gone often. He had little time for me. I ran wild on the surrounding land. I ran up the mountain, through streams, and under the cypress trees where the old man’s beard moss hangs heavy from the branches like tinsel.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca. I foraged, ate wild, white, puffy mushrooms, and hunted squirrels, moles, and whatever I could to survive. Running wild and not being spayed, I became pregnant again by the same neighboring white wolf. I was lonely. Nobody liked me here because I had gotten into some trouble. Alone, pregnant, and hungry, I found the neighbor’s plump and juicy chickens impossible to resist! The lady next door came running to the man’s house where I now lived in a fury, shaking the foot of her chicken that I had just devoured, threatening to shoot me. To make matters worse, her step‐father was the man on the bicycle who owned the property. I was now officially a “wanted” dog. I was beaten on site and hunted. Things weren’t looking good.

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Redwood Park, Arcata, Ca.

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Grandmother Rock, Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Eyehole Rock, Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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Elks Head Forest, Trinidad State Beach, Ca.

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One cold morning that spring, I was lying in single beam of radiant sunlight in the otherwise‐damp redwood forest, trying to get warm. The shaft of rare light illuminated one side of my body as steam rose off my shivering back. After months of watching my saga unfold, a strange new neighbor felt empathy for me. As a female, she understood my predicament and that if I didn’t get some help, I might not make it. She was a city lady, an implant. A freelance writer and photographer, she moved here in her motorhome with her friend Jon and their two cats. She had never had a dog before and it went against her better judgment, especially a large, 70‐pound dog like me. And yet, here I was at her back door in desperate circumstances.

Tracy’s Motorhome This new stranger began to feed me. She put some canned fish she had in a bowl and left it a few feet from me. She went back inside her motorhome and waited. I inhaled the delicious food. I was very pregnant and had an insatiable appetite. But still, I wouldn’t get near her. I didn’t trust two‐leggers anymore. So she kept her distance, but day after day kept feeding me. I came to rely on and be grateful for the daily meals. The man in the cabin next door was rarely around because his work ne‐ cessitated travel.

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I was coming to full term, which is about two months for a dog. With eight babies kicking inside me, I was weary and hungry. My new friend started buying bags of dog food for me. I was being fed regularly, but I didn’t come near her. Her friend and her two cats were not thrilled about me. I was angry, aggressive, and hard to handle. But somehow this new lady empathized with me as a female facing pregnancy alone as her own mother had.

Cocoa

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Simba My second litter of puppies was born in the man next door’s cabin. He asked my new friend to take care of me and my babies in his absence. She was already taking care of me, and he knew it. He also knew he didn’t have time for me and my unplanned litter.

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We were all moved into a pen outside. It was spring and warmer now. Trees formed their new leaves and buds swelled on the vine. After a couple months, we all broke out of the pen and migrated to her motorhome. There, we all slept peacefully un‐ derneath it at night in a pile and in the morning, awaited our ritualistic bowl of food and water.

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Mable’s second litter of puppies at 2 months old. My puppies were tenacious, beautiful, eating machines. They were sucking the life out of me! They had been eating dog food for a month now. I tried to walk away from them, but they kept running behind me trying to nurse! I loved my babies, but I was ready for them to stop! I was exhausted!

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Mable’s babies nursing at two months.

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