Grandma Dobie’s ‘babies’
Candi Bousheau was a single mother raising an ailing baby when two Doberman pinschers strolled into her yard. She scooped up her boy and watched the dogs settle onto his blanket. No owners could be found, so the dogs joined her family for a year.
Finding a good home for the Dobermans in California in 1960 began a lifetime of catering to canines, and was the birth of Dobie Creek K-9 Search and Rescue. Bousheau is commonly known as “Grandma Dobie” or “K-9 Angel” among those who have witnessed her dedication to dogs. Over the last 42 years, she’s primarily served animals in Kootenai and Bonner counties, and trekked across Canada, Montana, Washington and California to help dogs in need. Bousheau’s reputation developed by searching for lost animals, for free.
Bousheau estimates that she’s located “hundreds” of dogs. Her key to success is something she learned from the animals – patience.
“I always say that everything good I’ve learned came from them,” she said.
She camps in her van, drives miles through wilderness and lures skittish dogs with warmed food. Although she doesn’t advertise her services, the phone rings 20 times per week with requests: lost dogs, found dogs, aged owners, vet bills and more.
Bousheau made a habit to never accept a dime for finding animals. Instead she told owners to spend the money on their “babies,” as she refers to dogs of any age. Now, at age 68 and on a fixed income, friends encourage her to accept what is offered. She established her rescue as a nonprofit organization this year.
She keeps the location of her home base private and currently cares for 13 dogs with special needs, such as club feet, asthma and a dislocated leg. Bousheau’s van has traveled 254,000 miles and Social Security checks barely put a dent in vet and gasoline bills.
It’s been a decade since she has agreed to a newspaper interview. The last one had a bad outcome. Within five days of the article’s publication, 16 dogs appeared at her home. Some were chained to the fence with notes attached about the surgeries they needed. One was pregnant so two weeks later, Bousheau had 13 puppies under her care. Concerned friends persuaded her to enter the public eye again, with the hopes that the many she has helped will return the favor.
“I don’t want recognition, not attention,” Bousheau said. “I just do it for the love of the animals. I think that was my purpose of being put on this earth.”
Bousheau operates her rescue with no computer or Web site. She doesn’t own a TV.
“Anything that takes from the babies, I don’t like,” she said. “I have no regrets about any time I spent.”
Bousheau also relocates wolves. That can mean hours of binocular-viewing for days on end. She lures and nets the wolves herself.
“My last breath will be somewhere in the wilderness probably,” she said.
Bousheau spends most nights sleeping in her van or outdoors, sharing space with a canine. Nighttime is ideal for bonding with animals, she believes. One 145-pound mastiff/pit bull mix came to Bousheau after having seven homes in seven months. She spent six months sleeping face-to-face with him from inside her own igloo doghouse. In the darkness, he relaxed under her hands. He now lives with an 81-year-old man with failing ears. The dog lets his master know when the phone rings or someone is at the door.
Suitable homes for her rescued pets are found by word-of-mouth. One Chihuahua was trained to detect irregular heart beats for an amputee.
“It’s a good thing to try and give them a purpose,” Bousheau said.
Some dogs fill emotional needs, like Magic, a red Doberman placed with Coeur d’Alene chiropractor Daniel Frantz. Bousheau learned he was grief-stricken over the loss of his 16-year-old black Doberman. Seven years later, Frantz speaks about Magic like a proud papa with a mended heart.
“She’s still as energetic as she was at 16 weeks,” he said. “We just fell in love with her.”
Another Doberman was deemed vicious and headed for euthanasia after five years of living on a chain. Bousheau spent two hours coaxing the dog into her van, suffering torn sleeves and bloodied arms in the process. Today, the dog is a “perfect little lady,” Bousheau said.
She holds a special fondness for Dobermans and began her rescue strictly with that breed. Presently, an assortment of “babies” seek permanent homes, including Dollie, a Chihuahua, François, an Italian greyhound, and Magic’s sibling, a fawn Doberman named Pierre.
Bousheau’s training techniques are self-taught and she credits her years working as a juvenile officer with her skills.
“What you get out of them is what you put into them, just like kids,” she said.
Her son is healthy and grown, and Bousheau never remarried. The dogs are less costly than a husband, she believes. She passes on her wisdom to the next generation by helping youngsters train their pets. For years she’s handed out a dollar bill to any child spotted with a dog collared and on leash.
“I wish I could have given them more,” she said. “It’s a big responsibility for babies to be raised.”
If a dog is running loose by the roadside, to keep on driving is unthinkable to Bousheau. Spirit Lake Police Chief Tony Lamanna considers her a good friend of the Police Department and community.
“She’s always helping with strays,” he said. “She truly loves her animals. A lot of people won’t do what she does.”
Bousheau has no plans for retirement from her seven-day-per-week job with no pay and no vacation. The benefits include an unmatchable, deep, bonding love.
“They ask for so little and give so much,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to live another day without the babies with me.”