My Journey with Dogs
How a summer of puppies on the farm shaped a lifelong love
The summer before I entered grade seven, our dachshund Licorice gave birth to eight puppies. It was the beginning of something beautiful. Life on our farm was already brimming—we had cows, horses, 50 chickens, ten turkeys, two sows with a dozen piglets each, a cat named Garfield, and five dogs. But those puppies added a new kind of energy to the land.
Bruno, the gentle golden retriever; Casey, our parti cocker spaniel; Fred, the beagle; Karote, Licorice’s brother—all were part of our growing dog family. With the new additions, we suddenly had thirteen dogs on the farm. That summer still stands as one of my favorite seasons of life.
Finding Forever Homes
Most of the puppies resembled their sire, Casey, a CKC-registered cocker spaniel with striking black and white speckles. A few were golden like sunshine. But all of them had those unforgettable, soulful eyes and ears so long they’d trip over themselves in excitement.
At the end of summer, we hosted a barbecue. Families from all around visited, and those pups didn’t have to work hard to win hearts. By the next morning, every single one had found a new home—and I received updates for years about how much they were cherished.
A Pack of My Own
I wasn’t from a big family—just one sister, more of a cat person. So the job of looking after the dogs often fell to me. I also didn’t like sleeping indoors in the summer, so my dad set up an old camper for me near the fields. From May to September, it was my personal sanctuary.
Nighttime was magic. I’d walk through moonlit fields with five dogs at my heels. Sometimes we howled with coyotes. Sometimes we just lay on hay bales, stargazing. I spoke to the dogs like old friends—Bruno, noble and quiet; Fred, always chasing; Casey and Licorice beside me; and Karote, forever at my feet.
Full Circle
Now, almost 35 years later, not much has changed. As I sit here—two pups at my feet, a pitbull to my left, a cockapoo to my right, a Maltese snoozing with his head on my shoulder, three more curled up nearby, and one sable sweetheart in my lap—I’m reminded how lucky I am.
Some people chase change their whole lives. I’ve simply followed the dogs—and found home again and again.
Paws, Piglets, and Playtime
The puppies arrived just a week before school ended, granting me the entire summer to bond with them. Their long ears, mismatched colors, and tiny clumsy feet still live vividly in my memory.
None of our dogs were sought out intentionally. They came to us through rescue or rehoming, and in return, we gave them the freedom of a quarter-section to roam, play, and live out their lives surrounded by love. That summer, visitors couldn’t help but smile as puppies and piglets blocked the driveway like playful traffic cones.
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