The Spotted Tongue Mystery

It all began on a quiet, sun-dappled morning.

The pack was romping outside, tails swaying like willow branches in the breeze, the crisp scent of pine and spring grass in the air.

I was simply observing—as one does when you're alpha of a whole den full of the most beautiful creatures—when I saw something that made me pause mid-step.

No. Double take.

Then freeze.

There it was again.

I blinked.

Rubbed my eyes.

Looked harder.

A black spot—clear as a footprint in fresh snow—on Lincoln’s tongue!

Not a smudge, not mud from the water bowl, not the shadow of a leaf.

A true-black pigmented spot right there on his pink tongue.

A chill ran down my spine—like the moment a dire wolf scents something just outside the den.

You don’t know what it is yet, but your hackles raise all the same.

Could it be?

No… there’s no way!

But that trait—that exact trait—doesn’t run in Cookie Monster’s line.

I shook the cobwebs from my head, baffled by the mystery of it all.

The black spotted tongue only comes from a very particular branch within our breed.

One that traces back to a dog named Opal—a 50/50 cross of blue Labrador Retriever and golden German Shepherd Dog.

A mix from three years ago.

Pretty rare.

Absolutely distinct.

So what was it doing on Lincoln?

Let me backtrack for just a moment.

The Mountain Peaks litter was carefully planned.

Last year, Albreta, our beautiful light silver female, had been paired with Cookie Monster, a giant masterpiece.

Only one male is placed in a pen with a female during breeding.

The den was secure.

The match was set.

The outcome was supposed to be clear.

But memory is a funny thing, and sometimes it plays tricks… until a trait buried deep in the genetic tundra comes climbing up through the ice.

Suddenly, my mind raced back to try and remember what I’d nearly forgotten.

Albreta had been in Dublin’s pen just before her heat.

Yes. Dublin.

Our magnificent dark silver male, stoic and strong as a glacier at twilight.

At the time I transferred her, I didn’t notice any signs that Dublin was even interested in her.

I moved her to Cookie Monster's pen, thinking it was still early.

Apparently, Dublin had all the right moves!

So now, it is evident that we have a split litter on our hands.

For those of you new to the concept, a split litter is when more than one male sires pups within a single litter.

Yes, it happens in dogs.

It's rare but it does happen.

And in this case, it walked right up and stuck out its tongue.

Literally!

The mystery spot wasn’t just pigmentation—it was a genetic breadcrumb.

One that led me back to a reality I hadn't previously considered.

Suddenly, Lincoln’s behavior made sense, too. That soft whine. The high-pitched bark. The more vocal communication style—traits we see more commonly in Dublin’s line.

To confirm my suspicions, I looked at the rest of the litter.

St. Elias… may have the same black-spotted tongue trait. If he does, it is a quiet echo of Dublin’s line—carried through Opal, passed like a whispered memory of the Lab/Shepherd mix from years ago.

And then there's Everest.

Everest, with his calm, quiet demeanor.

Submissive and soft-eyed.

Stoic.

Less vocal.

Less… spotted.

Everest, dear readers, is 100% Cookie Monster’s son because Dublin cannot sire white puppies.

It was so clear once I saw it: Everest is a fifth-generation American Dirus dog, further removed from the latest 50/50 Lab/Shepherd cross.

But Lincoln?

He’s definitely a third generation from the Lab/Shepherd line.

He carries that connection closer to the surface—and now, we know exactly why.

So, what does this all mean?

Well… it means Lincoln’s sweet, expressive nature comes from a slightly different river in our genetic stream.

That melodic, almost songbird-like bark?

Straight from the Lab/Shepherd influence.

It explains so much.

But let me be clear: Lincoln is phenomenal.

He’s a stunning example of everything we’re building in the breed.

His structure is strong, his spirit is affectionate, his temperament is dazzling.

Knowing Dublin is his sire only adds another shade to the tapestry—not a flaw, but a fascinating turn in the trail.

And guess what?

Dublin’s reign is not over!

Dublin’s next litter is officially confirmed!

And it is due mid-June.

We’re calling it the Happy Days Litter.

Because, frankly, this whole mystery has left me smiling in awe at the magic of genetics, the power of observation, and the way even the best-laid plans sometimes get delightfully derailed.

Hold onto your bobby socks, packmates!

The Happy Days are almost here!

You can see Dublin and the sweet Jengu as well as read up on the predictions for the Happy Days litter on the future litters page.

Click the link to find out more about this exciting new addiction to the Dire Wolf Project.

https://direwolfdogs.com/litters/68/

Jennifer Stoeckl is the co-founder of the Dire Wolf Project, founder of the DireWolf Guardians American Dirus Dog Training Program, and owner/operator of DireWolf Dogs of Vallecito. She lives in the beautiful inland northwest among the Ponderosa pine forests with her pack of American Dirus dogs.