The Boy Who Talked To Dogs

My Life In Pictures.

Martin McKenna,

Author of The Boy Who Talked To Dogs

What was it like living with a pack of Irish street dogs for 3 years? 1975-1978

This is me today.

Below is the cover of my book which is about my unusual childhood. I grew up in Garryowen in Limerick, Ireland and when I was 13 I ran away from home. I hooked up with 6 stray dogs and we lived together as a gang for 3 years. I'm so proud of the book - it captures my time living with the dogs perfectly. It's published by Skyhorse in New York and my wonderful agent is Daniel Lazar of the Writers House.

The boy on my book cover is my son Fintan, who is the same age as when I lived rough. Sean is one of the six adopted rescue dogs I have at the moment. He's from my fantastic local rescue group, Friends Of The Pound in Australia.

This is some of my family when we triplets came home. My darling mother, Sigrid and my charming difficult dad, Mick had a large family of 8 kids.

Here's me, John, Andrew at around 2 years. It was tricky being an identical triplet.

Here's John, Andrew and me, aged 4

My parents loved each other very much but sometimes my father drank heavily. Often he was funny – but sometimes he could get very violent - so my home life often got a little crazy. I also had ADHD so I had a very hard time at school. I was completely illiterate and couldn’t even read and write my own name properly. I always felt like an outsider and a freak. It was very strange being the only member of the family with ADHD. Even my triplet brothers had a hard time being around me. No-one could understand why I was the only one who couldn't read and write.

My brothers and I were also teased because we looked identical. Because our darling mother was German, we were accused of being Hitler's 'secret experiments'. Before I ran away, we had a swastika painted on the front wall of our house. As you can imagine, this didn’t help me feel less of a freak.

Above, is the only surviving photo I have of the time around when my book is set. Here I am in 1974, the year before I ran away, posing with my hurling team. Hurling is an ancient Gaelic game called the 'Game of the gods.' It's exhilerating to play - even when you're a kid. I’m 2^nd from right, bottom row. I have a great scene in my book capturing a local hurling game of us boys in the Under 14 team - really hilarious!

However, as much as I loved my family, one day I finally had enough of being so mercilessly tormented and beaten up so I ran away.

It was 1975 and I was 13. I climbed out my bedroom window one night, leaving behind my dad’s violence at home, the bullying at school of the schoolteachers, the boys who bullied me around the neighborhood – and all the rest of the complicated humans in my life. Although I felt extremely guilty about my poor, darling mother, I knew I needed to get away to save myself. I headed for where I knew the stray dogs of Garryowen always hung out. Dogs had never let me down in the past – and I knew they wouldn’t let me down now. A licked hand, a curious sniff, a wagging tail - you know how much a kind dog can mean when you're a kid and you feel completely alone and miserable.

To begin with, I was on my own most of the time. I slept in an old railway culvert and raided the local estates and farms for food. Not knowing where else to go, I decided to make my territory the countryside around Garryowen.

However, I soon hooked up with 6 stray dogs who were roaming around a deserted part of the railway line outside Garryowen. We lived together for 3 years – and became a pack – though as a kid I preferred to call us a gang. They became my best friends and family.

Understandably, I have no photos of this period of my life, but I’ve found some images on the Internet that strongly remind me of my six strays. These dogs meant everything to me.

Mossy (above):

Mossy was an English springer spaniel. He was a very optimistic, friendly dog and usually stuck to my side like moss to a stone.

Missy (above):

Missy was a very sweet little dog. She had a fine silky coat and butterfly ears so I’m guessing she had some Skye terrier in her. She always looked a mess but was very kind. She loved being the only female in our pack. She was quite motherly despite her small size and had great determination.

Fergus (above):

Fergus was an extremely curious dog who was always fascinated by smells. He was a wire-haired terrier and always looked pretty muddy. He was such a lively funny dog. Sadly, he used to go off and explore a lot and was eventually shot by a farmer. I found his body in a field and was devastated. I’ll never forget him because he was always so cheerful and merry. Even on our gang's hungriest days, he could bring a smile to my face.

Red (above):

Red was a wonderful, loyal, calm Foxhound-cross. He was just the sort of dog you want around as he brought a great dignity and serenity to us all. He had great honour. I really trusted this dog and found him to be a wonderful teacher.

Pa (above):

Now Pa really was hilarious! He was a really chubby, greedy character who was completely obsessed by food. He could find a scrap of food absolutely anywhere. He always made me laugh – especially when he sat on his rump and slid down the hay pile in the barn every morning. He looked like he was on a slippery dip.

Blackie (above):

Blackie was a bit of a bully though I realise now this was because he was probably always hungry. He was a Newfoundland-cross – huge and very powerful. I was always a little scared of him – but he was such a great guard dog that I decided to keep him around.

Blackie was the dog I first communicated with in pure dog language – and it was a truly unforgettable moment when we finally connected. It was the first time he let me touch him – and he only allowed this because he finally trusted me when I started using dog language with him. Communicating properly with him was incredible. The hairs on my arms stood up on end and I felt a rush of energy. It felt like magic.

Later, just before Fergus, the merry little wire-haired terrier was shot by a farmer, another dog joined us. This was Skitty, a whippet mix: She was extremely shy but was also quite bossy and was clever about getting her own way most of the time.

There were other stray dogs that drifted in and out of our pack - lots of them - and they always brought drama with them. They stayed for a while before drifting away again. However, the original six dogs I listed above and the later addition, Skitty, were the dogs I got to know best. We truly became a gang or a pack and they became my family and friends.

These dogs and I slept at night in farmers hay barns to stay warm and dry. The hay was stacked almost to the ceiling and we buried ourselves down deep. You soon learn to live with mice leaping about! I moved around the district staying in different barns so farmers didn’t catch me or the dogs. Understandably, they hated stray dogs near their precious cows.

Together, we loved exploring the beautiful countryside around Limerick.

I especially loved running across the fields with the dogs during a white frost. It was like entering another, more magical world.

However, my poor mother was worrying herself sick over me while I was away, and eventually I listened to the advice of the people who knew her. It would have been selfish of me to continue staying away. My book ends when I'm returning home, walking up the path through our front gate and my darling mother, Sigrid is gardening - and she looks up and sees me - and knows I'm finally coming home.

What happened to me after I returned home?

I was extremely sad to leave my gang behind, but I had no choice. They were too used to having their freedom and my parents only had a tiny back yard. Besides, my family had gotten 2 German Shepherds while I was away so I couldn't drag my dogs into the family as well - there would have been absolute chaos! I continued to meet up with my gang every few days along the railway and feed them - and we still roamed huge distances through the countryside. To help them survive, I'd left a hole in the fence of the local knacker yard so they could help themselves to bones and meat scraps as well. After enjoying my privacy for 3 years, it was hard fitting back into a noisy, bustling human household again - so I kept meeting up with my old gang to go for these long relaxing walks.

I had to sporadically travel to find work and everytime I returned to Garryowen, there seemed to be another dog missing. Maybe they moved on or were poisoned by baits or were shot - I don't know. Could I have rehomed them? No. Everyone was struggling to financially survive back then and there were so many strays around. A huge amount of unwanted dogs. That was before desexing was so common. Economically, it was hard for a lot of people back then in Garryowen and such an operation for a pet would have been considered a luxury.

When I returned home, I never went to high school with my brothers. Instead I got local odd jobs. I also played a lot of sport with my brothers. Here we are posing with our hurling team when we were 21 in 1983. I’m still the runt! John is the 4th from the left. Then there’s me in the middle, then Andrew.

I’ll always be grateful to my pack of stray dogs who helped me when I was a boy back in Ireland. They taught me the International Language of Dogs. They also showed me how to become a better human. Whenever I’m around dogs I live a well-balanced, happy life and reach my full potential. Dogs always bring me great happiness and inner peace.

Here I am with my current pack of adopted dogs. I live on a small farm in Nimbin, Australia.

When I arrived in Australia about 20 years ago, I started helping people with their dogs, explaining what their dogs were trying to tell them. For this reason, I called myself a dog communicator rather than a dog trainer.

About sixteen years ago I was invited on a local ABC radio show and there was such an overwhelming response, I became a regular guest. This led to other radio shows and resulted in a book in 2001, The Dog Man (below). Because I was still illiterate, a ghostwriter Mike Hayes wrote it for me based on recordings we made. It became an instant bestseller. Sadly it's no longer for sale but I have seen it on some ebay sites for ridiculous amounts, and I've been told it's becoming a bit of a collectors item!

However, in 2009, I FINALLY learned how to read and write using my own poetry. It was an extremely difficult experience but I persevered. Not long after, I wrote my first book, What’s Your Dog Telling You? (below) and it was published in 2011. This has most of the basics about the language and sacred laws of the Dog World. These were all the things I learned from my pack of strays when I was a boy. This also became a bestseller.

You can buy it at HarperCollins Australia here!

In 2013 I wrote What’s Your Dog Teaching You? (below) This is full of life lessons about how you can learn from dogs to live a better, happier life. These lessons I learned from my pack of strays when I was a boy – as well as what I observed when helping people with their dogs in their homes during my years in the dog rescue industry. Dogs and the way they behave tell you a surprising amount about their humans! I can enter a home and tell by the dog all the human problems, tensions and undercurrents going on. I believe dogs are some of the most powerful mentors we humans will ever have.

You can buy it at HarperCollins Australia here!

Now after a 20 year career, I’m leaving the dog rescue industry to pursue my creative side as an artist-poet. I feel like I’ve finally repaid my debt to the dogs who helped me as a boy.

To mark the end of this part my life, I wrote my memoir about where my connection with dogs began – as a boy in Garryowen, Ireland. The result is The Boy Who Talked To Dogs, published in New York by Skyhorse. My wonderful agent is Daniel Lazar of the prestigious Writers House, literary agency. My book is now published in North America, Canada, Australia and Brazil – and is available worldwide on Amazon. It’s also available on Audible.

You can buy it on Amazon here!

Now I’m ready to start the 2^nd half of my life as an artist-poet. I paint my poems on large abstract canvases full of colour. I guarantee you’ll be hearing more about me and my art in future. I’m raring to go!

Thanks for taking the time to read about my life...if you ever want to jump into a conversation

you can meet me on Twitter @dreadlockdogman.

About Me

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The Boy Who Talked To Dogs is now on Audible!

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

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My life in pictures