On July 5, 2020, Shale dog went missing from the Clearwater Junction area on Highway 200 in Montana. We were campeed right on the Clearwater River, a tributary to the Blackfoot River. I hadn’t moved the trailer on the assumption it would be futile finding a new camp during the busy 4th of July weekend. We were waiting out the holiday to move on to new waters. She was present and normal, hanging outside the trailer around 9 pm after having a swim in the slow moving river. I went to bring her inside at 10 pm after a few fireworks went off (not enough to scare her) and she was gone. I checked the road and highway at 11 pm and she was nowhere to be found. In 10 years, Shale has never run off.
I’ve scoured the area and the highway and she wasn’t taken by a predator or hit by a car. I am convinced that she is with someone and I am making a plea for her safe return. If you have my dog, please return her. I’ll pay you whatever I have, no questions asked. Just bring her back to me. Read her story and I hope you will understand why she must be returned.
The Story of Shale Dog – Condensed Version
Spend some time browsing this blog or any of my social media and you will soon realize that Shale is central to much of the content here. I was living near Ennis Montana in 2011 when my parents and sister came to visit. My sister talked me into visiting the local shelter in Belgrade despite my opposition to having a dog on account of my desire to travel internationally. She insisted that she would watch the dog if I were to leave. I picked up Shale because she ignored me, was independent but also was noted to love children. “At least she won’t bite a kid and she definitely won’t be needy,” I thought as she turned her back to me at the shelter.
We returned to my cabin where she continued ignoring me for a good month. She ate outside, slept outside and after some prodding, would eventually jump in the truck to fish the Madison River with me. Otherwise, she ran her own game, killing mice and ground squirrels like a coyote while making me earn the bond and prove my loyalty to her. In the subsequent decade, we would hike, hunt and fish together across the western US and Canada, forming a deep love for each other. When I left for a season of guiding in Chile, she spent the days laying under my truck waiting in Reno at my parent’s house. When I returned, she was angry that I’d left in the first place, scoffing at me for a few hours to show her discontent before licking my hand to show she forgave me.
When I worked long hours in an office job, she continued showing her undivided loyalty, laying in my parking spot all day and night until I’d return. This wasn’t fair to her so I hatched a plan to travel together full-time. I’d always told her we had a big adventure in store and this was our moment. We loaded an old van and spent the next two years driving from Montana to South America.
During our trip, Shale rode shotgun through 12 countries. We narrowly passed through a roadblock of armed gunmen in Mexico and fended off packs of wild, aggressive dogs in Guatemala with sticks and rocks. There isn’t a sound that escapes her and she ran off thieves quietly breaking into my van in Honduras. We hiked mountains, beaches, deserts and jungles and I even swatted a crocodile with a fly rod as it attempted to snatch her off my raft in Costa Rica.
It wasn’t all danger though. On a very rural backroad in Nicaragua, uniformed school children who ride ox carts to school yelled and cheered at her like teens at a Brittany Spears concert. “Lobito! Lobito!”
It went on like this through most of Central America and a good chunk of South America. A gringo driving a rickety van with a red wolf hanging her tongue out the window. She ate up the attention and so did I. My Spanish quickly turned fluent as it pertained to dog talk. Everyone wanted to know about Shale and I was happy to respond. She is a lover, a chicken killer and a protector. A mutt with intelligent golden eyes and a true friend. She’s the closest thing to a stable relationship that I’ve experienced in this world and our bond is stronger than most marriages. A few girlfriends might even speculate that I chose her over them…and they would be correct in that assessment.
In South America, we hiked and fished our way through the mountains and jungles of Colombia and Ecuador. We had vehicle breakdowns and made friends in places we’d assumed were sketchy but turned out wonderful, all because Shale smiled and people wanted to know more.
A month into Ecuador, a crazed driver swerved on the shoulder of a country road and I turned around just in time to see her squirt from under the wheel. By the time I caught up and calmed her down, the assessment was miraculous. A deep cut to the face and nothing more. I held her tight through the night, until the shaking and trauma subsided into a deep sleep. We were lucky.
In Peru, we hiked and drove across the Andes, frequently cresting 16,000 feet. The altitude never phased her and we pushed hard. We picked up two enthusiastic Russian hitchhikers in the Atacama desert and drove over 16,000 feet again, camping our way from Chile to Argentina. The Russians loved her and she them so I kept them on a few days longer than we had initially agreed. Shale was grateful for their company.
In the final months, we fished and rafted rivers in Patagonia, criss crossing between Argentina and Chile, exploring the wild places. She was thrilled to roam this landscape, exploring new scents, plants and critters, only taking a leash when we encountered sheep at close quarters. The herders could sense her prey drive so we played it safe, otherwise, she would sleep inside some nights and outside others, keeping her own counsel and driving street dogs and potential threats away from her invisible territorial van perimeter.
I tried leashing Shale early in our relationship and it was clear she would incessantly refuse for life. I tied her up outside a convenience store once and returned minutes later to see her sitting with her head high next to a severed leash, as if to say, “I know how to stay and don’t need a cord around my neck.” I would leave her outside stores in South America when the van was too hot. An hour of grocery shopping later and she was waiting by the entrance, confident I would return.
In Patagonia, I had to hitch shuttles after running rivers. On the multi-day rafting trips, it could take an entire day to thumb my way back to the van. Shale would wait with our raft and gear, untethered and without concern. She knows the game, she trusts me. I even left her outside the van in town parks while running big whitewater that wasn’t dog friendly. She spent those days playing with street dogs until she was content and ready to curl up and sleep by the van.
Shale dog did not run away on that Sunday night. She was taken, likely within 50 yards of my travel trailer and truck. I was inside the trailer reading and the traffic off the dirt road was relatively low. I hope whoever has her is well intentioned and will return her. Despite the chaos of the current world and country in which we live, I have faith that most people are inherently good. Shale and I both do, and the trust she gained for strangers over a decade of us both operating on that principal is what most likely led her into the hands of a stranger. I believe whoever has her will do the right thing. Regardless, I will not stop searching until she is found.
How You Can Help
Spread this post, please help and call me immediately at 406-544-0346 if you have any information. I have flyers available if you email through this contact form. Share it on your websites, social media, post flyers and make it known every damn place possible. The more people who see this, the better our chances. I appreciate all teh help from my friends, family and the many strangers on social media. I want my best friend, fishing partner and protector back. Do what you can, I’ll be forever grateful.
