A Girl in the Redwoods

She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And I wanted her for myself.

Her face and hair were every man’s dream. And she had eyes that could launch a thousand ships.

And her owner wasn’t bad looking either.

I want to share with you a story about the first time I longed to have a dog of my own. And the previous “hook” is a worthy introduction to my personal tale of love at first sight.

I was still in my twenties and going to college. Home from Germany for about three years, my dad was retiring and he and Ma had eyes on moving permanently to the Oregon coast. They no longer wanted the hot summers or the cold, snowy winters. And the scenic, pine-laden coastlines were to die for.

So, they invited me to accompany them there for a week. It was a memorable trip. Our journey took us up the Columbia River gorge, down the I-5 corridor and I got to visit Oregon State University, University of Oregon, and Southern Oregon University in Ashland—all potential schools to finish my degrees.

And they toured me up the Oregon coast from Brookings to Florence.

Because my parents were generous in taking me to the aforementioned colleges, the trip from Ashland to the Oregon coast forced us to stop and see the California Redwoods.

Bummer…

This was my first time seeing those amazing trees. Old as the Ice Age and wide as a cottage, these are the tallest trees in the world. And when they get that giant, their water can no longer come from their roots. Rather, their needles literally inhale moisture out of the foggy, coastal air.

My story begins there.

There is a park in the Redwoods called Jedediah Smith State Park. As an avid backpacker and after hours and hours in the car, I longed for a lengthy hike and exploration of that amazing forest setting (the Ewok planet in Return of the Jedi was filmed there).

While my parents stayed back, photographing the beauty all around them, I set off from the trailhead. The trail turned and wound this way and that. Fallen trees were so big, they often never hit the ground. Crossed over other fallen trees, they were so high up a hiker would simply pass beneath them.

It was like walking on another planet somewhere off in the galaxy.

And then I saw the two of them, a girl around my age and her German Shepherd dog. Girl crazy though I likely was at that young age (this is long before I met Jennifer), I don’t remember much of anything about this young female fellow hiker. Never stopped to talk to her. I don’t even recall the color or style of her hair or even what she was wearing.

But her dog was a different story.

Male or female, I honestly do not know. In my introduction, I am assuming that most young women prefer a female dog. I could be wrong. Either way, the dog was glorious. She was not one of those over-bred German Shepherds we so too often find with the sloped back and unsteady gait.

No, this one appeared like the original European variety, tall, broad, and majestic. And this young lady had him for her very own.

I recall the moment I saw the two of them together, not because I was attracted to the dog per se; and not because I was attracted to the girl. I was attracted to what they were… together. And I wanted that for myself.

When I returned to my parents, I told them about my encounter. “I saw this young woman hiking the forest with her German Shepherd,” I told them.

“And it made me want a dog like that.”

Our conversation started with that. The truth was, I recognized for the first time in my adult life the relationship bond a person has with a dog. It is a bond that surpasses most friendships and even most relationships.

Longing to explore the American wilderness with a backpack and hiking staff, I coveted that relationship for myself. The Weminuche in Colorado, the Ishi Wilderness in the Sierra Nevadas, and even the Apalachian Trail were all places I wanted to go and see up front and deep. But I wanted that amazing companion dog to share it with me.

Since that day, my dream came true. I had Rosie, a dog Jennifer had purchased for herself then went into the Peace Corps. Rosie was a champion black Giant Schnauzer. After Rosie came Cricket who became my Search and Rescue dog. And as most all of you know, I now have my Yeti.

And last year I was hiking with Yeti in a place in Oregon called Smith Rock State Park. I might have told you about this, but this is where my story comes back full circle.

And this part, I did not realize until just now.

During a day hike there, Yeti was by my side. She wore her pure white coat and gentle eyes with that same majestic spirit I saw in that German Shepherd so many years ago.

And there were many hikers there. Most of them were on the opposite side of the river that runs through it. And most all of them turned and looked, not just at Yeti, but at the two of us together.

And like me, they appeared as if they longed to have what I had that day. Not just a beautiful American Dirus dog, but to have a relationship like that.

Just like the girl and her shepherd in the Redwood Forest.

I hope that you experience that in your own life. I hope you feel what I feel when I’m with Yeti on that trail. And if not, hoo-boy! The puppies we have are to die for. They may be everything to you that Yeti, Cricket, and Rosie have been for me.

See our available dogs at: https://direwolfdogs.com/dogs-for-sale/

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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.