Editor’s note: Scott Richards has lived in Grangeville, Idaho for the last 17 years. For 34 years he has trained hunting dogs. “To do this it takes a great deal of love for your dogs and for the great outdoors,” he says. “I have always prided myself in the manner of which I train my dogs and take care of them. When I choose a new pup, he or she spends the first six months of their life in my house. They are loved and a bond is there forever. I do not believe there are bad dogs, just inexperienced owners. I have spent the last four years trying to introduce this sport to as many young people as I could. My photo albums are full of pictures with children sitting under a tree with the dogs, telling them ‘good job.’ That has all changed now! The reason I am writing this story is not to debate whether the Canadian gray wolf should be or should not be here. I am not going to debate anyone about how many wolfs are really in the state of Idaho. I will say our Elk, Moose and Deer populations are in serious trouble now. The real reason I am telling this story is that I have a conscience,” Richards states. This recounting is what happened to him and his dogs on the morning of May 25, 2006. “It’s been a few days now and the shock has turned from fear to disbelief to anger. Now the major concern is for the safety of anyone who lives in or visits our state. My life that I have loved, raising and training these special working dogs, is now over.”

Another dog day
That Wednesday morning started like most days when I am training dogs. I was a few miles from my house and turned up the hill on the Service Flats Road. I let my dogs out of the box; jumped into my truck and followed them up the road for a mile letting them clean out. I had eight dogs with me and seven of them were very experienced two-, three- and four-year-olds. I had one five-month-old pup.

I loaded four dogs on the top of the box and four inside the box. I did not have to drive far when the dogs sounded off, letting me know a bear had crossed the road. My friend, Bryon, had driven up from Lewiston to train some of his young dogs. I turned out a four-year-old named Jasper; he left the road and let me know the track was fresh. I told Bryon to turn his dogs loose as I did.

They quickly dropped into a canyon where bears hang in the brushy bottoms in daylight hours. When all the dogs reached the bottom, five of the dogs went up the other side of the canyon heading toward Fish Creek campground. The other group of dogs came right back up the hill toward us. They put the bears in a tree 20 minutes later. The other group of dogs treed about the same time about one-and one-half miles away. Bryon and I went to the nearest dogs first.
When we were under the tree, we found they had a mature sow and a two-year-old cub. We took a few pictures and we were back in the trucks ready to go to the other dogs. We drove back up to where we heard the group of five dogs top over and shortly thereafter tree the bear. We drove as close as we could, stopped and listened. They were about 400-yards away treeing solid. I made the decision to move the truck 200-yards to the low side of the saddle; this would be an easy way back with the dogs.

When Bryon and I crested the hill, instead of hearing a roar of barking dogs treeing we heard nothing. We were looking at each other like ‘where did they go?’ we had just heard them there five minutes ago. Then one dog barked in one place another barked 50-yards away.

Crying wolf
I said to Bryon that neither dog that we heard sounded like any of our dogs. He agreed.

Then I heard a dog bark that I knew was mine, but at the end of his bark, there was a sharp yelp. Bryon and I headed down the hill in a hurry about 75-yards apart.
About 300-yards down the hill, I stopped dead in my tracks. In front of me was a big dark colored wolf. My Blackey dog was under attack. I was 20-yards away now and closing fast, screaming and yelling as I ran. I stopped at about 12-feet from the wolf and even though I was screaming and waving my arms, the wolf did not break from the attack.
Every time Blackey tried to run, the wolf would sink his teeth into Blackey’s hindquarters. All the while, I was screaming louder than I had ever screamed in my life. Without thinking, I picked up a four-foot stick, stepped toward the wolf, swung and hit a tree. When the branch cracked and the tree went thud the wolf instantly lunged at me. I remember thinking I was going to die.

I ran from tree to tree straight up the hill towards my truck. When that wolf lunged, I believed I would have been seriously hurt or dead if not for Blackey. I did not see what took place, but what I heard was my dog giving his life to save me.

As I reached the truck, Bryon was digging in his truck for a gun. As I ran up to him, he started yelling, “We got wolves!” I was trying to listen to him while searching for a gun. As I took my pistol and turned toward Bryon, I could see in his eyes that I was not the only one threatened by wolves.

Victims and survivors
We headed back down to see if we could save Blackey, Lady or Halley, but there was no sound. I wanted to hear a bell or a bark, but heard nothing. As Bryon and I hurried back to the truck to get my tracking box, I realized Bryon was able to fight off three wolves and save two dogs. Snyper and Bullet were safe in the dog box with no life threatening injuries.
With the tracking box in hand I tuned in on Lady’s tracking collar and said to Bryon, “Not Lady, not Lady,” but I new she was dead. Then I tuned to Blackey, and said to Bryon, he was dead, and then I tuned in Halley’s collar. One beep every four seconds meant all three dogs had not moved for at least five minutes. All dead! I stood there in shock.
We decided to look for Halley first and we were getting real close. The receiver was pegging the needle on close and turned way down. I knew a few more steps and I would be looking at one of my babies. My heart skipped a beat when Halley’s tree switch went off, I did not know if she was alive or if a wolf was dragging her off. We ran the direction the needle was pointing and in a few yards, there she was.
She was trying to get up, her stomach ripped open and guts hanging out. She had over 60 bite marks and deep gashes. Bryon went into action, off came his shirt and we wrapped it tightly around her stomach. I carried her back to Bryon’s truck put and her in the front seat. Bryon headed for the veterinarians. I remember thinking I would not see Halley alive again.

I started tracking Blackey next. It did not take long to find him. He wasn’t far from where the wolf came after me. He was dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. He was bit and torn so full of holes, I just fell to the ground bawling and crying. I could not quit thinking he gave his life to save me. I was sitting there when it hit me Lady, better get to Lady.
When I tuned her in, I knew she was within 100-yards. I lined up with her collar and next thing I knew there she was, laying in a heap, her eyes wide-open, looking straight into mine. For one second I thought she might be alive.
When I knelt down beside her Iknew, she was dead. It’s very hard to describe the type of death these dogs were handed. It was easy to see that the wolves cripple their prey, torture it and then kill it. I have never seen a worse way for any animal or person to die.

I made it back to town and took care of the remaining dogs that made it through this nightmare that happened in the light of day. Then I went to see if Halley needed burying.
When I walked into the veterinarian’s, I was greeted by the vet with, “Did you find the rest of your dogs?” I tried to say they were all dead but could not get the words out; all I could do is cry. After a few minutes standing alone I heard a voice behind me say, “Halley is still alive, do you want to see her?” Instantly, I headed for the back room and when I turned the corner I saw this little black ball covered in stitches swollen twice her normal size. I stopped and said aloud, “Oh my God Halley, what have they done to you?”
When she heard her name, she lifted her head, whined and wagged her tail. I kneeled down, held her and comforted her, the whole time wondering if she was the lucky one or were Blackey and Lady?

When I looked into her eyes, it was easy to see the only reason she was still alive, the wolves had choked her out. Her eyes were full of blood; they had left her for dead. The Doc said it was a miracle she was alive at all. Her lungs were badly damaged, but what most concerned us all was infection from all the tears and bites. I knew this little dog had more heart and desire than a 1200-pound grizzly bear and yet was as gentle with my granddaughters as my chocolate lab. If it were just a fight with infection, she would win.

On the way home I called the Idaho Fish and Game to report what had happened. They were very understanding and I could tell they were sincere when they said they were sorry for my loss. They also made it clear there was nothing they could do for me and that their hands were tied. They said they would write the report, and call the federal agent. Justin, the government trapper contacted me by phone and arranged to meet me first light in the morning the next day.

Sad demise
We were at the site of the attack early. We went to where I had left Lady in the shade. She was gone. Then, I took Justin to where Blackey was laying and he had also disappeared. We searched around and found nothing. About that time, a crow down below us called three times so we walked toward it. Soon we were standing over the remains of the dog that saved me from harm. All that was left of him was his head and backbone. Had we been an hour later there would have been nothing left of him. We had spooked the wolves off while they were finishing their prey.
In five hours, all we found of Lady was a pile of fresh wolf scat full of white, brown and black dog hair. Lady was a tri-colored walker that color.

Justin and I buried what was left of Blackey. We piled heavy stones on his grave and I walked away thinking that it could have been me. I could have been just a pile of wolf scat lying on the ground, leaving people to wonder where I had disappeared.

I couldn’t help thinking of the 22-year-old man who was killed and eaten by wolves in Canada last winter. There’s been a slaughter on hound dogs and pets in Idaho and it is getting worse daily. I have been assured that if these wolves kill any cows or sheep, goats, pigs, horses they will be dealt with, and the owners compensated. That’s a relief.
Dogs have no value to anyone in the government, it seems and what I love to do is over.

Be aware and ready
I will not send another dog to slaughter or feed another starving wolf pack. My concern now is that the wolves are running out of their customary prey and are now eating dogs. In wet muddy areas where elk and moose have always been plentiful, I can no longer find a track. It is as if aliens took them off this planet.

I hope you did not find that funny. This is the first documented case in Idaho where the wolves have eaten a dog after killing it.

I want to share this story for your safety; the public is unaware of the danger that waits in our national forests and elsewhere.

Since retiring, I have spent no less then four days a week in the mountains. What is amazing is how many of these wolves are right around people’s homes. When they are out of easy prey, be ready.

For as long as I can remember, when you were in the mountains having a dog by your side was a great defense to warn you of predators. I once believed this. Now, a dog is nothing more than bait to lure wolves to you.
Recently, while cougar hunting with a friend and licensed guide who had his dogs leashed, three wolfs charged upon him. With arms waving and screaming, he was able to persuade them to leave. But what if they had been a little hungrier?

Your natural instinct will be to defend your dog. I am not saying to leave your dog at home, but be prepared. Put a bell or a beeper on them so you know where they are at all times. The most important thing is to pack a firearm. Personally, I believe pepper spray will not work in a pack attack.

Keep your dogs quiet when you are walking or when they are tied up in camp. No barking .In addition, do not let your children play with your pets, exciting them to bark while they are playing. My personal belief is the war has been lost; it is too late to save our big game herds in my lifetime.

What I have loved to do for most of my life is over. So enjoy while you still can, be prepared, pack a gun! I pray you never encounter a pack of Canadian gray wolfs.

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