To everyone who enjoys walking with pets and children in our beautiful Upper Peninsula’s wooded areas, especially the Radar Road sub-division:

On Saturday, October 29^th, I along with my two children and a friend of theirs decided to walk our dogs, Gidget, an eight year old, miniature dachshund, and Candi, a ten year old small mixed breed.  We were walking by one of the sand pits looking for a pond that was previously there but which had dried up due to the unusual drought that the Sault experienced this summer.

I saw my dog, Candi, poking her head into an old fruit basket that was tipped on its side with some brush growing around it.  Candi is a gentle creature with a pure loving heart and we all loved her as well as our other dog, Gidget, as if they were members of our family.   I said, “Look at Candi; she must smell a chipmunk or something…” As I walked over to investigate, I thought, “what if it is a trap?”  No sooner had the thought flashed through my mind, when I saw the metal jaws clamping down over her head. 

I screamed in horror as Candi cried and thrashed to escape the conibear trap.  I knew nothing about traps, but I tried to free her despite her thrashing and fighting.  I could not even come close to budging the steel jaws that were strangling the life out of my beloved pet.  She was in incredible pain: blood showed from inside her mouth and her eyes bulging wide with fright.  I quickly became hysterical and watched as my son and friend tried to no avail to free her.  My daughter kicked off her sandals and ran barefoot to our home to look for help.  I knew that no one was there as my husband, Chris was working out of town on a project. 

My son’s friend tried to hold Candi still, but her desperate body lurched out of his hands and floundered in the brush.  I saw her eyes roll up into her head, and she stopped struggling. 

I crumpled on the ground and screamed.   My son, who had tried everything he knew to save her, turned to comfort me.  He led me out of the woods by my arm.  I’m not sure I’d have found my way back, I could only sob “Oh my God, oh my God.”  Against my son’s wishes, his friend, who had just met Candi the day before, stayed back with her; he didn’t want her to die alone.  He stroked her fur as her muscles twitched—nerves quickly dying.

As we neared the edge of the woods, I looked up and saw my husband, Chris.  My daughter had legs like the wind that day, and when she got back home she—quite by chance—found Chris there.  I cried out that Candi was already dead.  Chris ran towards Candi’s body anyway, but it was my son’s friend (who stayed behind) who called out, “Over here!” and led Chris to exactly where Candi lay.  Chris was quick and he knew what he was doing: with the help of the friend, he released the trap’s jaws from Candi’s lifeless throat.

My son and I had returned home to mourn while my wonderful husband, back on the cold ground in the woods, stroked Candi’s throat and spoke to her: “Does Candi want to go for a ride in the car?”  After a few seconds, her chest began to move while she took in short, rapid breaths.  When she heard Chris’s voice, she wagged her tail. 

When he walked in the door of our home, carrying a weak, wounded but very much alive dog we stared in shock and disbelief.  Chris said, “And you thought I just fixed vacuums”.  We could find no humor in his words at the time; we still could not believe it.  My husband was a hero that day, but he could not have done it without everyone else doing their part and most importantly without the grace of God.  It was a miracle.

My family and I do not want this to happen to anyone else.  We will never walk our dogs in the woods again; thanks to cold hearted, cruel humans who find entertainment in trapping innocent animals.  I want to warn all of the residents of Radar Road and the greater Sault Ste. Marie area, to please be very careful with pets or children while in the woods.  My entire family has been deeply affected by this trauma, and we will never forget it. 

To the person who did this, I hope you are deeply ashamed of the outcomes to your cruel hobby.  I especially need to know that you have read this letter and that you understand what you did to my innocent loving pet, Candi and what you did to my family.  We will never be the same.

My thanks to Dr. Howell who was the first veterinarian I could get through to on the weekend.  My thanks to my family and my son’s friend, who all played a part in the rescue of Candi.  Thank you G-d for this miracle, for giving us Candi back.

Cathy C. Edgerly

Radar Road Resident