Wolf

by Albert Payson Terhune

With a foreword by Terhune scholar Wayne Lewis, this new edition of Wolf brings a classic back to print, and another Sunnybank collie to life.

Genres: Dogs, Animals, Fiction, Classics, Childrens

236 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1925

About the author

Albert Payson Terhune (1872 - 1942), a local author of some fame, wrote numerous adventures about Collies, most notably, "Lad, A Dog", "Sunnybank: Home of Lad", and "Further Adventures of Lad". Sunnybank, his home on the eastern shore of Pompton Lakes in northern New Jersey, was originally the home of Terhune's parents, Edward Payson Terhune and Mary Virginia Hawes Terhune. Later as his home with his wife, Anice Stockton Terhune, Sunnybank became famous as "The Place" in the many stories of Terhune. Much of the land once constituting the Sunnybank estate was lost to developers in the 1960's with the house being demolished in 1969. Fortunately though, the central 9.6 acres was preserved through the dedicated efforts of Terhune fans and dog fanciers, and is now Terhune Sunnybank Memorial Park, administered by the Wayne Township Parks Department.

Reviews

[Stephen Wallace · Rating 5 out of 5]

Albert Payson Terhune was the best writer of dog books of all time. There is one aspect that may detract from some's opinion of his stories, in that they can get a bit rough like when the 'good' dog has to kill a 'bad' dog. There is one instance of that in the book.

The book Wolf is written, and I tend to believe it, as what is told in this book to be accurate to what occurred in the life of his dog Wolf, sired by Lad and Lady, central characters in the previous book Lad: A dog. (Well, mostly, the chapter when Wolf is put into a dog show may be a stretch.) For this reason, I cannot fault the book for Kleenex needed in the end of the book in a way I didn't like. None of us can choose the natural endings of our relationship with our furry friends.

I originally had trouble writing this review. Other than say 'he's a great writer of dog stories' I was finding it hard to find the right words to give justice to his writing. So as before I will let excerpts from the book give some hints. And they will help me spur the few words needed to give hints of what happens in the book without telling too much.

Terhune raised prize winning collies. Wolf was not though. Here is how he is described:

'He was undersized; though wittily powerful and as lithe as a panther. His coat, which should have been wavily abundant, was as short and as thick as a chow’s. It was not unlike a chow’s in texture and growth. His bushy tail was three inches too short. His head was broad where it should have been chiseled into classic lines. His muzzle was not long enough for the rest of his head. The ‘stop’ above it was too prominent. His glowing dark eyes were round; not almond shaped or slanted as called for in the “Standard of the Breed.”

In brief, he was not a true type of collie; though of royally pure lineage. He was a throwback;—a throwback almost to the ancestral wolves which form the trunk and roots of the collie family-tree. It was this queer outward resemblance to a young timber-wolf which gave him his name.'

The book goes on to talk of his personality and fine qualities.

In one chapter Wolf is taken to court after biting someone who reached into the car while Wolf was defending the car and his bone. From that chapter is this next excerpt. Someone will have to tell me if collie's when threatened or protecting their masters family or property really does lunge at people's throats.

'At Glure’s alien touch, Wolf had ceased all at once to be proudly submissive to punishment. In a flash he had hurled himself at the throat of his assailant; with the eager intent of severing the fat man’s jugular. He missed the throat by a matter of inches, as his victim staggered back; and his razor-teeth slashed at the upflung fat hand which sought to fend him off.

“Wolf!" yelled the Master. '

Another common theme in Terhune's books is that of mistaken belief that a dog did something. In this case it was the dog gets blamed for something the cat did and the dog is unfairly punished. 'The Master' has been guilty of something like this before like in 'Lad: A dog.' When he learns of his mistake I like how he handles it and responds to a guest who had wacked the dog after the master, and of course had wolf 'hurled himself at the throat of his assailant' and got a nip on his sleeve. The master said it was rotten of him to punish Wolf, and the guest Glure responds.

'“Pshaw!”’ scoffed Glure, having assured him self that the cuff of his tweed coat had protected his hand from more than a graze from the slashing teeth. “‘Pshaw, man! What if it was the cat and not the cur? One licking, more or less, doesn’t matter to a dog.”

“One injustice, more or less, matters,” said the Master, self-disgustedly, “I struck him and scolded him for something he didn’t do. I'm going out to look for him.”'

Later in that chapter, when the Master is feeling bad about punishing the dog, especially with the dog still being so cheerful to him, there was this bit which I enjoyed:

'“If I had a third foot,” mused the Master, ‘I'd kick myself with it. It’s bad enough to be unjust to a fellow-man. But it’s worse to treat a dog as I treated Wolf. Because I can’t explain to him or apologize or anything, He—”

“Don’t worry,” counseled the Mistress. “See, he’s forgiven you already. When God put dogs into this unjust world of ours, He gave them power of divine forgiveness; to make up to them for all the injustice they were going to receive. Sometimes I think perhaps that puts dogs just a little bit above us humans.'

In another chapter, Wolf befriends a pair of horses and has some cute antics happen because of it. Then the barn catches fire:

'This was Wolf’s first experience with fire as an enemy. Hitherto it had been a warming and pretty thing, pleasant to look at blinkingly. Now he saw it not as a slave to mortals but in its true light as an unleashed devil.

It was menacing these two big friends of his ; these horses which were so queerly helpless to get away from it and whose gentle calm had turned to a crazy terror. '

In another chapter there was a bit relating to Wolf's ESP qualities. I have read cases of this before and truly believe they dogs closely bound to their owners can read their owners minds even when they are far away. I have a book that really goes into it, but couldn't locate the title at the moment. I think it can happen with any dog, but of course with Terhune no other dog breed rivals that of a collie:

'The Master arose from the table to telephone The Place’s superintendent to have a car meet the next train. Before he could reach the instrument, the phone bell rang. At the other end of the wire, the superintendent asked:

*“You’re coming up here to-day, aren’t you, sir?”

‘How did you know?’ asked the bewildered Master.

“Wolf told me,” was the amazing response. “A couple of minutes ago he began to dance around as if he was crazy. Now he’s galloped down to the Big House and he’s scratching to go in. He always does that when you’re coming home. I don’t know how he finds it out.”

Yes, the incident sounds fishy—except to those who know the psychic mind of the highest type of collie. Yet it is true. And other and stranger true anecdotes of the sort might be told of the Strange little red-gold dog.'

In one chapter, this throwback of a collie is put into a dog show. I have trouble imagining if another writer would have thought of a similar course. Loved the story, but question if this one is true. Terhune and a lot of writers during this time liked to write about dog shows. I loved this bit said by the mistress about dog shows and it is something I will add to my list of favorite quotes:

'Why can't somebody invent shows where dogs are judged by their cleverness and dispositions and staunchness and by all the million things that make them worth more than any mere money? Why must they always be judged as if they were prize cattle or pigs;—just by a few show-points that have nothing to do with a dog’s worthwhileness?'

One more quote to go. I have read a fair amount of old books, and have bumped into a select few that have some cultural insensitivity. I don't recall any in the other Terhune books I have read but did cringe in his use of one expression, "...because every member of the police force here is too much of a white man to relish the job of killing such a dog as Wolf.” I love old books, but think it is important to point out any racists that could offend.

So another great book from Terhune. I think it makes the 10th of his books I have read. I believe there is like 27 dog books of his, of which I own 25, and would recommend making it a goal of any series dog book reader to read all of the books of Albert Payson Terhune.

[Karen Tompert · Rating 5 out of 5]

My first introduction to collies, long before I ever heard of Lassie. I have read every Terhune book I could find but this first one about Wolf is my favorite. They very strongly influenced how I felt about dogs growing up and how I believed animals should be treated.

[Trey Alison · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a wonderful statement about being "different," and an introduction to the form of the tragedy. As a child it was my first tragedy and it taught me that endings are not always happy ones, but there is great comfort in the memory of a loved ones heroic last act.

The self-acceptance and confidence of the outcast Wolf influenced me greatly and at the end, oh, how I wept!! And read it again and again. It was one of the formative books of my junior years.

[Classic reverie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely love Albert Payson Terhune's dog stories and "Wolf" did not disappoint. I knew about Wolf from reading "Lad" stories being Lad's son. Wolf though not as thoroughbred as his parents, being slightly mischievous won his way into the Master and Mistress' heart! His looking out for the unfortunate brought out his noble nature which made me love him as much as Laddie! Terhune is my favorite dog author, he surpass so many and his stories are entertaining and truthful, he is writing what he knows and showing how wonderful dogs are.



❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert.❌❌❌
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IT was not Wolf’s day. Few days were Wolf’s days. Wolf had an inborn gift for ill-luck. Trouble was his birthright. There are such dogs; even as there are such people. More than once the fiery red-gold collie had the wit and the grit to make Trouble his servant, rather than his tyrant.
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Here, with the Mistress and the Master whose chum he was, dwelt Sunnybank Lad; glorious mahogany-and- snow
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collie, whose eyes had a Soul back of them. Here Lad lived out his sixteen years of staunch hero-life and of d’Artagnan-like adventure. Here he died, in the fullness of serene old age. Here he sleeps, near the house he loved and guarded.
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If so you will also recall Wolf, the stormy little son of Lad and Lady. (More of you will remember reading, a year or so ago, in the newspapers, the account of Wolf’s hero-death. For nearly every paper in America devoted much space to this shining climax of his tumultuous life.)
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With Wolf, in his early years, it was different. He was born to Trouble. And he ran true to form. Within him throbbed the loyal, staunch, uncannily wise nature of his mighty sire, Lad. But through his
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veins, too, frisked the temperamental wildness of his mother, Lady. The two strains did not blend. They warred. Bit by bit, the Lad strain predominated; but only after several years had passed. For instance, it was the heritage of Laddie’s unafraid and chivalrous soul which at the last made Wolf throw his life away gayly and gloriously to save a worthless cur.

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The Mistress and the Master watched with increasing gloom their hopes of a son of Lad and
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Lady which should combine the best points of both parents. They had bragged happily of breeding a collie that should be a pride to The Place; at dog-shows and at home. Wolf was not such a collie. He was undersized; though wirily powerful and as lithe as a panther. His coat, which should have been wavily abundant, was as short and as thick as a chow’s. It was not unlike a chow’s in texture and growth. His bushy tail was three inches too short. His head was broad where it should have been chiseled into classic lines. His muzzle was not long enough for the rest of his head. The “stop” above it was too prominent. His glowing dark eyes were round; not almond-shaped or slanted as called for in the “Standard of the Breed.” In brief, he was not a true type of collie; though of royally pure lineage. He was a throwback;—a throwback almost to the ancestral wolves which form the trunk and roots of the collie family-tree. It was this queer outward resemblance to
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a young timber-wolf which gave him his name.
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The fact remained that he was anything but a show-type of collie and that he gave no sign of reflecting future credit on The Place or on his breeders. He would have been sold, in those early days, except that nobody would pay a decent price for such a dog, and because the Mistress—the natural protector of all The Place’s weak and luckless Little People—pitied him. From the first, he gave to the Mistress the absolute loyal devotion which had always been given her by Lad. This devotion did not keep Wolf, in puppyhood, from transgressing The Place’s every law and winning for himself a repute for sheer naughtiness which strained all the Mistress’s gentle patience.
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From the beginning, as I have said, he was the adoring, if erratic, slave of the Mistress. He loved the Master, too, in only a lesser degree. For the rest of mankind or womankind he had not the slightest use; to the day of his death. He endured them when he must; and he kept out of their way when he could. He molested no one, so long as people let him alone. But he resented with
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slashing teeth any effort at familiarity from the world at large. Children were the sole exceptions. Like the Mistress and like Lad, he had an odd sense of protection for anything defenseless.

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Apparently, in leaping up to get the scent of that wildly hopping bird, Wolf had broken some complicated law. The Master’s single mandate of “Down!” would have sufficed, without the knuckle-rap. “Leave that cage alone, Wolf,” went on the angered voice, speaking incisively now. “Leave it alone!”
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The dog comprehended. Here was something else that must be avoided; something else that a collie must remember to keep away from. Nevertheless, the memory of the slap rankled. Glumly, Wolf left the room and the house. He knew he was in disgrace. Disgrace cuts into a sensitive dog like a whiplash.
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Scent is a dog’s surest and strongest sense. It verifies or corrects all his other senses. (That is why a dog is not interested in his own image in the mirror. His nostrils tell him no other dog is facing him there. He believes his nose and therefore discredits his eyes.)
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There on the floor, amid a halo of spattered birdseed and water, lay the cage; its panic-stricken occupant beating frantically against the bars with frayed yellow wings. There, too, protruding from under the tablecloth, appeared Wolf’s tail and a part of one hindleg. The picture told its own story to the Master and to Glure. The dog had sneaked into the dining-room and, disobeying orders, had knocked down the canary cage. Then, hearing the footsteps of the
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humans, he had crawled under the table to hide. Without a word, the Master seized the dog’s wolf-brush tail; yanked him forth into the light; pointed to the overturned cage which the Mistress was righting; and slapped the collie heavily across the loins, twice. The punishment was accompanied by a word or so of gruff rebuke which hurt worse than did the blows. Wolf made no attempt to escape; nor did he cringe. He stood there, mute, sullen, submissive, under the
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manual and verbal onslaught. He was uncannily wise, this slender young throwback-collie. He knew he was being punished for another’s fault; and he knew that this was damnably unjust. But he was already old enough to know that justice is not an infallible human attribute; and that men are prone to follow temper rather than reason in dealing with dogs.
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The Place’s luncheon guest, Mr. Hamilcar Q. Glure, was thrilled with horror at the canary’s mishap. Righteous indignation surged up within him. As the Master drew back from the second blow, Mr. Glure brought his own hamlike right hand down, resoundingly, across Wolf’s hips. In less than a second, Glure was reeling backward across the room, stamping to regain his balance which had been imperilled by the
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red-gold demon; and he was bellowing loudly for help.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love Albert Payson Terhune. He writes very good dog books. Wolf is one of my favorites, though it is sad towards the end. Terhune is one of those writers who, understandably, really gets dogs.

[Jennifer Ritchie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wolf the collie has a talent for getting into trouble—but he’s loyal and intelligent and courageous, so he usually manages to get out of trouble eventually!

These dog stories are entertaining and charming, and all the more so when you know that Wolf was a real dog, and these stories are based on his actual exploits. The writing is ok but not great; the author is rather repetitive, using the same phrases and descriptions over and over. Wolf does die at the end of the book; however, the reader is told at the beginning of the book that he lived ten years and died heroically, saving the life of another dog—so the reader is well prepared for the last chapter which describes the incident.

Content issues:

A racist expression—“white” to mean honest or fair dealing.
“ ‘I refused to sign a warrant for an officer to go over to your house and shoot Wolf. …It was easier to refuse; because every member of the police force here is too much of a white man to relish the job of killing such a dog as Wolf.’
‘Thanks,’ said the Master, his heart heavy. ‘It was good of you, Mac. Your police over there are white men, from the chief down.’”

Also, a reference to eugenics:
“She was not a collie. Heaven alone knew what she was. …In fact, she was one of those worthless examples of chance breeding which should never have been permitted to be born, still less to live.
People grate gravely about eugenics among humans—where it never can have a chance to be enforced. People neglect eugenics among dogs—where it can be enforced with entire ease. The result is a swarm of mongrels.”

Reading level: ages 10 and up

[Kivrin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Terhune's "Lad: A Dog" is one of my all-time favorite books from my childhood, so I was excited to find this book in a "vintage" store in upper New York on a recent vacation. The dog Wolf was one of my favorite characters from Terhune's other book because he wasn't the perfect collie and had his own strong personality. Wolf is still a great dog, but the 1920's viewpoint in this book was rather jarring. Terhune's characters' viewpoints are dated and sometimes downright cruel. Some comments made me wince. The stories are still good and sometimes heartbreaking, but you have to read with reservations.

[Jackie Laverdiere · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read all of Albert Payson Terhune's books as a child. My best friend and I loved them!
I found this one at an estate sale. It brought back many fond memories just seeing it and again
reading it.

[Jessica · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 ⭐️

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book a lot! It was sort of like "A Dogs Life" but Wolf isn't a stray dog.

[Vicki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wolf was the outsider, a funny-looking, but purebred, collie, and I loved reading about him. Another of my dad's old books that I enjoyed.

[Irl Newham · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't remember the details of this book but I do remember it was one of my favorite Terhunes.

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wolf was my favorite of all of Terhune's magnificent collies. A mutt-looking scamp who was a hero til the end.