In Praise of Wolves

by R. D. Lawrence

  Upon arriving at the Wuepper property, I parked as usual beside Chico’s area, keeping my gaze fixed on the dog as I got out, walked to him, and gave him half a chicken breast. Then, as he was munching the food, I looked toward the enclosure and noticed immediately that the behaviour of the wolves had altered dramatically from that of the previous day.

  Shawano and Brigit were waiting beside the fence; Denali and Thor were only some ten feet from the wire, the Beta standing on his own while his mother, again regally posed, was on the knoll that Shawano had occupied yesterday. As I tarried beside Chico, the big Alpha stood upright, balancing both front paws on the wire and thrusting his muzzle through the mesh, his ears pricked forward expectantly and his piercing gaze fixed on me. When I looked more intently at Thor and Denali, it became evident to me that the Beta was no longer seeking to make contact with the female: he was also keeping his gaze away from Shawano.

  Now I left Chico and prepared the food as usual, then walked slowly toward the enclosure, observing each animal in turn and noting that only Brigit showed signs of distress and even she appeared to be less tense than she had been during my last visit. None of the wolves moved until I had almost reached the wire, at which point Shawano dropped to all fours, wagged his tail, and snapped his jaws several times in quick succession, drooling and making a series of hollow sounds, rather like those produced when a person claps his hands softly. Such behaviour is prompted by the anticipation of food, a sort of ritualistic mastication in celebration of the meal that will soon follow.

  Brigit edged closer to me, keeping her tail between her legs and crouching submissively while whining and seeking my gaze, subdued by the presence of the Alphas, but nevertheless determined to be on hand when the food was dispensed. Thor and Denali, on the other hand, stayed where they were, but both wolves sniffed avidly in my direction, each dancing in anticipation as they absorbed the odour of raw meat, their ears pricked forward and their heads bobbing up and down.

  Noting such normal behaviour, I began to think that I had misread yesterday’s events. There was no doubt that I had witnessed signs of conflict between Thor and Shawano, but I now wondered if I had interpreted them correctly. Preoccupied in this way, I fished out a chicken thigh for Shawano. He took it gently. While he chewed and swallowed, I gave a piece of meat to Brigit, then another to Shawano. Now I tossed a half-breast to Denali, who grabbed it in midair and began to eat. Thor was next, but my throw was off. The meat landed between him and Shawana and the latter wheeled around immediately and reached Thor just as he was about to close his jaws on the food. The Beta gave up his attempt to grasp the chicken and retreated; Shawano ate the prize. Then I noticed that the Alpha had a bloody cut on his groin, an injury about half an inch long that had turned his light fur a shade of deep pink; but from where I stood I could not tell whether the wolf had been bitten or had snagged himself on a sharp branch.

  Observing each wolf as intently as possible, I continued feeding them, Shawano now taking every piece of chicken from my hand and remaining beside the wire when I threw meat to Denali and Thor. Brigit, as I had come to expect from her, remained near me, but just out of Shawano’s reach, although he did not threaten her unless she tried to get the pieces of chicken that sometimes slipped out of my grasp before the Alpha had managed to close his jaws on them.

  When all the food was gone, I removed the satchel and entered the enclosure, passing through a small holding pen before emerging into the main compound. Brigit scuttled up to me, but stayed out of reach. Thor and Denali retreated at first, but when Shawano came within two feet of me, reached forward to sniff my leg, then turned and sat on his haunches, offering me his back, Thor trotted forward. Denali, who hadn’t gotten as much food as the others because she had refused to come close enough for me to throw to her accurately, watched me from the knoll, but Thor advanced a few more steps, working toward me from the left since Shawano was sitting on my right. I took three slow strides toward the Beta. He held his ground. At four feet I stopped, and as he was studying me, I noticed that he had a puncture on his right front leg, about three inches above his foot.

  Now I knew that my interpretation of yesterday’s events had been correct. The two male wolves had indeed fought for supremacy. Thor had bitten Shawano, and the later had bitten his son. Clearly, from the way they were now behaving, Shawano had been the victor. Just as evidently, the altercation had cleared the air between them. The Alpa showed no resentment, and the Beta, apart from being careful to signal submission whenever his leader came near him, appeared to have accepted his defeat. Denali, by the same token was no longer seeking to capture Thor’s interest. Because each wolf had been so lightly injured, I surmised that the fight had been short, probably because big Shawano had quickly overwhelmed his opponent, who must have soon signalled complete submission. And Denali obviously had not taken her son’s part; had she done so. it was almost certain that Shawano would have been defeated or, at the very least, more severely wounded.

  Partly to show the wolves that I fully trusted them, and partly because I wanted to observe their behaviour more closely from a comfortable position, I sat on the ground, leaning against a tree that grew between the places where Thor stood and where Shawano now sat.

  The Alpha male turned his head casually in my direction, gave me one of those lupine glances of appraisal that seem to bore right into the mind of a human, then faced front again. He yawned opening his mouth so wide that it appeared as though his jaws had become unhinged, an action that in wolves and dogs can denote either drowsiness or pleasurable excitement, the latter evidently being the reason for the wolf’s present gape, for he wagged his tail, heaved a big sigh of contentment, and loped casually toward his mate.

  Thor remained standing, his eyes not leaving mine until he glanced toward his leader just before taking a couple of steps in my direction. I thought that he was going to come right up to me, but as he approached, Shawano turned back, staring at the Beta aggressively while uttering a low, rumbling growl. Thor intermediately backed away, tail tucked between his legs and lips peeled back in an appeasing grin when he was about twenty paces from me, he stopped; now Shawano sat down and began to lick his injury. During this exchange, Brigit had been pacing continually along the fence-line at my back, trotting one way for a number of yards, then turning and going in the opposite direction. Denali stepped off her knoll and moved deeper into the trees, whining softly. This caused Shawano to rise. He looked at me again, then trotted after Denali, who went to meet him, her behaviour showing a mixture of submission, affection, and playfulness. She grinned, arched her back, and dropped her tail; but she kept wagging the lower end of it as she pranced lightly while bowing her head.

  When the two came together, Shawano stood tall, ears forward, tail high and wagging gently. Denali crouched lower, sidled up to him, and, her head turned sideways, licked at his muzzle several times before nibbling at his right cheek. She was now soliciting regurgitation, an age-old ritual among wolves, programmed in the nursery and continued throughout life. Shawano responded immediately, the first signs of his compliance emerging as he arched his back, convulsed his stomach, and dropped his head. Seconds later he opened his mouth and began to disgorge, but even before the masticated chicken parts hit the ground, Denali began to eat, taking pieces from inside his mouth. When he was done, his mate scooped up that part of the steaming offering that had actually landed on the ground. Shawano stood over her, his tail arched high, his head raised, his pose reflecting the magnificent, primordial stateliness of the lead wolf in ways that showed to advantage his grace, power, and natural beauty.

  When Denali finished her meal, the two wolves became affectionate. For some moments they licked each other in the mouth, wagging their tails and dancing lightly on their front legs. Afterwards, they leaned against each other and Shawano began to nibble the nape of Denali’s neck while she whined and increased the speed of her tail-wagging; then, still pressed close togethe
r, the two trotted away, their movements timed so as to maintain physical contact. They disappeared among the trees.

  The Alphas left about fifteen minutes after I had entered the enclosure, but Thor and Brigit did not follow them. The small bitch now lay down about three paces from my left side, resting her nose on her front paws, whining very softly, and watching me intently. I spoke to her, using her name; her ears became erect and she lifted her head to gaze into my eyes. We related silently for a few seconds, then Brigit lowered her head again, heaved a huge sigh that sent tremors rippling along her flanks, and closed her eyes. Earlier, when t sat down, I had tried to coax her to me without success; now, with the departure of the Alphas, she had come near of her own accord and seemed completely relaxed and contented.

  Thor, meanwhile, was lying down about six feet away, his shoulders and head raised as he watched Brigit and me. Presently, he too lowered his head on his forepaws and closed his eyes.

  We relaxed, each of us feeling the presence of the others as we related in the age-old, spiritual practice of the wild, indulging in a oneness that transcends species differences and communicates through tranquil silence. I too closed my eyes, allowing my ears and nose to keep me in tune with the environment. I could hear the soft breathing of the two wolves, and the dulcet calls of chickadees, small songs that blended with the susurrrs made by the treetops in response to the caresses of a gentle breeze. The lung-healing scent of evergreens was strong in my nostrils, mixing with the slight odour of feral wolf, an unobtrusive scent unlike that of domestic dogs, which can sometimes overpower. All of these things combined to give me a sense of unutterable well-being; like the wolves, I was at peace with myself and with the world around me.

  The next day I again visited the wolves on my own, fed them, entered the enclosure, and was greeted by them, each in its own way. Shawano came right up to me and sniffed my leg, his nose barely half an inch from my pants, but his eyes turned upward to meet mine. After snuffling noisily up and down the pantleg, he wagged his tail and turned away, his attention centering on Denali, who was pacing restlessly within the trees and whining insistently, with obvious intent: she wanted Shawano to come to her and to feed her. The big male joined his mate, whereupon she immediately nibbled at his muzzle, her behaviour puppy-like and somewhat incongruous because of her large size. Once more, Shawano disgorged for her.

  I was standing near a large balsam fir when Thor walked up to me and began to sniff at the back of my hand, touching my skin with his nose and then tentatively dabbing me with his tongue, his tail wagging as he did so. I looked down and smiled and spoke to him gently. He leaned his shoulder against my leg. Slowly I raised my right hand and held it out so that he could see it before I placed it on the back of his neck, scratching him. The wolf pressed harder. I moved my hand higher, now scratching the base of an ear. We stood like that for some moments, until Brigit came scuttling up, exhibiting her usual submission, but on this occasion wagging her tail, which she carried low, but not tucked between her legs.

  Thor backed away slightly and stared at the low-ranking female, but he made no hostile move toward her as she trotted to within a couple of feet of me, then, as though shocked at her own daring, turned and ran toward the fence, there to take up her seemingly endless pacing. Now I sat at the base of the evergreen, knees up and clasped by my hands, waiting to see what else might happen. Of the two Alphas there was no sign, but Thor kept glancing toward the northern end of the enclosure, causing me to believe that Shawano and Denali were somewhere in the area, concealed by the trees.

  Intent on watching Thor, I had not been aware that Brigit was once again approaching me until she came to stand right beside me, her lips creased by a grin as she wagged her tail. Slowly I raised a hand toward her, but she backed off a short way, so I lowered my legs, stretching them fully, and slumped against the bole of the fir, adopting a nearly supine position. Thor immediately stepped forward, stopping at my feet and lowering his head to sniff my boots; Brigit also approached, this time pointing her muzzle at my face and lowering it to within about a foot of my mouth. We looked deeply into each others eyes and were still doing so when Shawano and Denali came into sight.

  The arrival of the Alphas broke my contact with their subordinates, although the dominant wolves were not aggressive as they trotted toward us. Thor backed away, but did not seem to be intimidated; Brigit, however, scuttled into the trees, becoming hidden by the foliage. Denali had taken up a station on what appeared to be her favourite vantage point, the knoll facing the entrance to the enclosure. From there she stared hard at me as Shawano loped in my direction, stopping when he was about six feet away. Sniffing and scanning my recumbent shape, the Alpha male seemed to be preparing to approach more closely when Denali began to howl-bark, bobbing her head up and down as she stared at me. Shawano retreated immediately, going to stand near his mate, who continued to utter short, deep barks that ended in long-drawn, moaning howls, then turned to barks immediately afterwards.

  The Alpha female was evidently suspicious, so, intending to ease her tension, I sat up slowly. But my action added to her nervousness, causing her to retreat into the trees while she uttered one last howl-bark. Shawano followed his mate. The behaviour of the Alphas caused Thor and Brigit to retreat also, but they remained in sight, the Beta male lying down in the shade and the female sitting near a downed balsam fir, the dead branches of which offered a tangled sanctuary if such should be required.

  I continued to sit against the tree, thinking about the actions of the wolves during the last two days and reflecting about the personality of each animal. Presently, influenced by such thoughts, I began to make notes, comparing the behaviour of the Ishpeming pack with that of the many wild wolves I had observed over the years. From these musings I later developed what may be termed a character profile of the species.

  Individually, a wolf may be serious or playful, or even a prankster as fond of practical jokes as any human, but beyond these personality traits, and whether he or she is a leader or a follower, every wolf is always aware of its responsibilities and of the part that it must play in the world in which it lives. Strong and incredibly durable, lithe, agile, and superbly coordinated, wolves could, if they so wished, emulate the humans who persecute them, and kill every prey animal that they encounter in their domain. But they do not. They know their place in the scheme of life; they are aware that feast leads to famine. They have become strong conservers, animals that fulfill an important function in the wild and, in a healthy, balanced environment that is beyond the abuses of man, exert a positive influence upon their habitats.

  Of course wolves kill. They must do so to eat. But like all wild animals, they pay for what they consume, and whether they take sick, injured, young, old, or prime large prey animals, hunting wolves keep the herds moving, breaking up concentrations of moose or deer that, especially in winter, would otherwise remain sedentary and suffer malnutrition when food supplies became exhausted. By dispersing prey animals, and thus eliminating crowding, wolves also help reduce outbreaks of parasite-induced diseases. Because wolves are efficient predators, their hunting keeps prey species alert, reduces the chances of inbreeding among them, and promotes the recovery of over-browsed or overgrazed areas of wilderness. Then, too, wolves feed a variety of other animals, such as ravens, jays, small birds, foxes, weasels, wolverines, skunks, mice, shrews, and even predominantly vegetarian animals such as hares, squirrels, and porcupines, which eat leftover meat in winter when it is available.

  The wolf is both a husbandman and a policeman, in the latter role preventing his own kind from over populating and at the same time maintaining a balance among populations of other animals, prey and predatory species alike. It has been said that wolves take only sick and old animals. This is not so. Wolves take whatever they can get, and if a prime moose, deer, elk, or caribou can be taken, wolves will take it. Wolves also kill the young of large species, which is something that often horrifies p
eople who have been raised to respond emotionally to the young, the warm, and the cuddly. The truth is that animals of all species produce annually more young than can possibly be allowed to survive; the natural season for this seeming waste is found in a fundamental law. Nature is careful of the species and careless of the individual. This is a principle that many modern humans find difficult to understand. We obviously see ourselves as individuals and we care not at all for the idea that we are expendable; nor do we like the thought that those animals that we consider “nice” are also expendable. We think this way because our kind has more or less succeeded to date in reversing the dictum of Nature, so that we are now careful of the individual and careless of the species. Emotionally, because I am human and conditioned in this way, I approve of this shift; but clinically, as a trained observer of life, I know that humans have embarked on a dangerous course, one that, should it continue for much longer, will lead to the extermination of our own species through overpopulation, destruction of habitat, and serious depletion of our food and other resources. For millions of years Nature has been maintaining balance at the expense of the individual, a scheme that worked until the “ascent” of man, who has to date been responsible for exterminating many other species while working hard at also exterminating his own.

  All predatory animals have an important role within the natural scheme. Nature made all of them opportunistic, which means that they are ever ready to take what they can get most easily. It follows that sick, injured, old, or young animals are more quickly captured and killed than vigorous members of the species, so, by and large, predators take more of the former than of the latter. Here again, man has reversed the process, for the human hunter seeks the prime animals-the trophy bulls with large antlers, or prime cows or does-in this way taking out the seed stock and leaving the physically and genetically unfit to live and to procreate of their own kind. Then, too, predators kill purely in order to survive, as man used to do in ages past, but our species, because of agriculture and animal husbandry, does not, with very few exceptions, actually need the meat of the animals that are annually slaughtered in the name of recreation. And no predator ever kills an animal, rips off its hide, and carries this away while leaving the carcass to rot, as man does when trapping to supply fur for the fashion industry.