In Praise of Wolves

by R. D. Lawrence

  Sitting immobile in front of the observation opening, I continued to listen. Several minutes passed while the telltale silence continued. Presently, from relatively nearby, I heard a twig snap. This was followed by the sound of rustling leaves, then by several more snapping noises, after which all was again quiet. Now I was sure it was wolves. Not daring to move to look at my watch so as to time the arrival, I began to count silently, in this way making a rough estimate of the passing seconds. Just as I reached 106, the shape of a wolf emerged from within the trees. It was a shadow almost imperceptibly lighter than the background, but it allowed me to recognize the animal for what it was and to note that it was standing broadside to me, facing the hindquarters of the dead grizzly.

  Head held high, the wolf appeared to sniff for some seconds, then it moved forward and emerged into the moonlight. It was a light-coloured animal, but whether grey, fawn, or dirty white I could not yet determine. Stepping cautiously and slowly, the wolf reached the carcass, lowered its muzzle to it, and remained in that stance for some moments before it lifted its broad head, turned its neck sideways, and stared at the forest. Almost immediately, four more wolves stepped into the open, all walking briskly and openly, undoubtedly reassured by the behaviour of the scout, which, as I surmised then and confirmed later, was a male and the Alpha of the pack.

  The five wolves ranged themselves around the bear’s carcass and began to feed without so much as glancing at my hiding place, although the leader would pause every now and then to check the wilderness with nose and ears, vision being the least important of his senses under the existing light conditions. From where I sat, I could study each animal without the aid of field glasses, the use of which might have alerted the pack should the lenses cast back reflections. Now I was able to determine that the coat of the Alpha male was light grey along the head and back, tan along the flanks, and predominantly white on the legs and underparts. I judged that he weighed about ninety pounds and that he appeared to be in his prime, probably about five or six years old. A smaller wolf, of a dark grey colour, crouched immediately beside the leader, suggesting that this was his mate, the Alpha female of the pack. In all probability, she had a litter of pups parked somewhere in the distant forest, no doubt being looked after by a subordinate female. Two of the other three wolves were young, perhaps the surviving offspring of last year’s mating: they favoured the female in looks, size, and colouring. The third wolf was appreciably larger and, although somewhat darker than the leader, was yet lighter than the others. During the next forty minutes the pack fed nonstop, allowing me to observe each animal in detail. It seemed evident that the two dark wolves were indeed yearlings; both were females. The other wolf was a male, and his behaviour and the relationship he had with the Alphas indicated that he was the Beta of the pack.

  The two young wolves finished eating first and withdrew from the carcass, the one to lie down near the forest edge and there to begin to lick itself clean, the other electing to sit about ten feet away and almost exactly opposite my blind. She sat on her haunches, yawned prodigiously, then began to clean her front, reaching back with her long tongue to clean the gore from her chest, then working down along each leg.

  Not long afterwards, the other three wolves became sated. The Alpha male stood on all fours and stretched mightily, thrusting his back legs out and curving the upper portion of his back. He too yawned; then, recovering normal posture, he nudged his mate with his nose, nuzzling the back of her neck. She whined in response and from her prone position by the carcass, turned on her side, lifting a back leg, whereupon her mate licked her inguinal area while she nibbled at his face, raising her head and shoulders to do so. For some moments the two continued caressing each other; afterwards they trotted into the trees. The other wolves followed.

  Waiting for a time in order to allow the pack to leave undisturbed – and thus to feel free to return if they so desired – I clambered down from the platform to go and look at the grizzly’s remains, anxious to get some idea of the amount of meat that the wolves had consumed. I found that they had eaten huge amounts. Almost the entire left haunch of the bear had been stripped clean of flesh, down to the bone; so had the left shoulder and part of the back, while the belly and lower chest had been similarly attacked. I estimated that the pack had collectively eaten between sixty and seventy pounds of meat, or an average of between twelve and fourteen pounds each. Nevertheless, it was almost certain that the two leaders had consumed considerably more than their subordinates, if only because they had to carry back sufficient food for the growing pups as well as for their baby-sitter.

  For the next ten days I continued to watch the carcass each night, commencing the vigil at dusk and ending it just before sunrise. The wolves returned during three consecutive nights after their initial visit; never once did they realize that they were under observation. At each feeding they made great inroads into the carcass, behaving much as they had done the first night, although their arrival times varied between 11pm and 3am. Undoubtedly those four sightings were the most rewarding of all my observations on that occasion, although a wide variety of other animals were drawn to the dead bear and were duly recorded in my notes. Besides the usual host of small creatures, such as the mice, voles, shrews, and pack rats, I observed three wolverines on separate occasions, and two lynxes. On the tenth night, a huge male black bear arrived soon after I had taken my station and before darkness. His feeding habits were interesting, if quite revolting, for, as I already knew, his kind love rotting meats. They especially enjoy the decayed juices with their attendant host of fly maggots; they scoop these out of a carcass by using both front paws together and lifting the rancid organic soup to their mouths. This observation was my last.

  Later, after I had rested for a couple of days, I backtracked the wolves and found their rendezvous in an area south of Blackwater Mountain, the six-thousand-foot peak which had been one of my favourite observation points during my stay in the area with Yukon. Because of this, I named the wolf family the Blackwater Pack, and although they had by now abandoned the summer nursery, for the pups were old enough to go hunting with their elders, I spent some time examining the terrain, seeking bones and hair so that I might identify the species of prey animals upon which the pack had fed. Among the remnants of deer, moose, beaver, and a variety of smaller animals, I found the desiccated paw of a grizzly, part of its lower jaw, and several other bones, all of them well gnawed and bereft of even the tiniest speck of meat.

  Although far removed from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in distance and time, my experiences in British Columbia were pertinent to my study of Jim’s wolves, particularly in view of the fact that those humans who were involved with them had mistakenly concluded that bear meat is unpalatable to all members of the species. For these reasons, as we drove back to Marquette after our last visit to Ishpeming, and while Sharon was indulging her imagination and seeing herself as foster mother to two wolf cubs, I began to make comparisons between the behaviour of captive and free-roaming wolves, a task that continued to occupy me after we had returned to our Ontario home.

  Shawano relaxing. Photo by Jim Wuepper

  Many (wild) animals are so tenacious of life, so desperately flexible,

  that they can survive in minimal conditions.

  But bare survival is not enough.

  Desmond Morris

  7

  Anyone who has had a close relationship with wolves can never forget them. In some unexplainable way, these animals are able to give to their human friends an awareness and an understanding of life that was missing before the relationship. Perhaps this is because wolves are so extraordinarily perceptive and so joyfully eager to appraise and understand all the influences that surround them at all times. No odour, no sound, no sight ever gets by them without being investigated, either from afar and with caution, if the animals feel threatened, or from very nearby if they are relaxed and comfortable in their surroundings. Day by
day, wolves teach their human friends by their own examples; or perhaps I should say that they try to teach us, for the truth is that we make very bad pupils because our own senses have been dulled by centuries of neglect, while our cortex has become preoccupied with logic at the expense of intuition, the inherent gift of the wild that served early humans so well and that, if given a chance to do so, can yet allow us to attain understanding without becoming lost in a maze of “facts.” Nevertheless, because they are such good communicators, wolves do manage to impart some of this near-mystical awareness to their human friends. As a result, we emerge the better from our contact with them. And the more we think about them afterwards, when we recall the quiet times of communion that united us with the primordial wild, the more vividly we remember them.

  From my work with them I have come to believe that at some time during prehistory, man and wolf were related in spirit, and travelled the forests of a younger and better world in peace. It should not be supposed, however, that a wolf can accommodate itself to life as a domestic pet. Like all wild animals, wolves are born to be free and unfettered by chains, kennels, or walls. They are too greatly influenced by heredity to accept passively the restrictions that humans impose upon their dogs and cats, themselves animals that are no longer truly natural because thousands of years of domestication and inbreeding have caused them to lose their inherent wildness and to become dependent upon their owners. Such animals are, in fact slaves, even though many are kept in pampered luxury. The fact is, most people buy a pet in order to own it. Despite this, a great number of individuals sincerely love their pets, but they do so because the animals adapt to their owners. If a pet turns out to be hard to train, independent, or intractable, it is soon disposed of in one way or another.

  Humans, particularly those influenced by the Judeo-Christian ethic, see themselves as rulers of the earth, an attitude stemming not from divine doctrines, but rather from human interpretation of them. Those governed by such erroneous tenets look upon animals as chattels, organisms that have been divinely created for human use and convenience. But domestic animals are the work of man. The wolf and all other wild beings are the work of nature; they are pure wild, gloriously so. That is why a wolf can never be owned; it cannot be mastered. This is not because it is savagely intractable, but because it will not willingly submit to any rules but those that govern its own societies.

  Many people believe that the hierarchy that regulates the affairs of wolf packs is predicated upon tyrannical rule exercised by leaders who severely punish their subordinates when these appear to be disrespectful. Such a view is simplistic, a man-oriented interpretation of a very complex, highly successful, and extremely ancient social order, the main intent of which is to ensure the survival of the family and therefore of the species.

  High-ranking wolves are not tyrants. When they must exercise their authority, they do so with restraint and with respect for their subordinates, and when the reprimand is over, they immediately offer forgiveness and are as readily forgiven by the subordinate. Were it otherwise, the pack would not survive as a unit because lower-ranking wolves would leave, or would fight when levels of abuse could no longer be tolerated. Alpha wolves attain their status because they are best able to care for the family. Such wolves are usually the most intelligent, often the largest and strongest, and always the most determined and responsible.

  Assisting the two leaders are the Betas. Usually there are two of these in a pack, a male and a female, but in small packs-as in the case of Jim’s wolves-there may be only one Beta in the absence of a qualified partner of the opposite sex. These wolf-pack “lieutenants” may at some point in time challenge their leaders, as Thor challenged Shawano by showing undue interest in Denali, and as Denali challenged her mother. In any event, sooner or later an Alpha will be deposed by a subordinate, in most cases when he or she becomes weakened by age, disease, or accident. Then, too, an Alpha may be killed during the hunt, or by man, and it is clearly useful to have a second-in-command who can immediately take charge of the pack. In any event, those wolves who have inherited leadership qualities begin to work their way upward just as soon as they are born, when they struggle for position at one of the mother’s hind teats. And as they grow older, these pups continue to strive for rank. In effect, there are two distinct hierarchical levels in every large pack: that which is to be noted among the adults, and that which quickly develops among the pups. The upper-echelon wolves, of course, govern the entire pack, while the young wolves, all of whom know themselves to be subservient to the adults, duplicate the “pecking order” in their dealings with each other. But whether Alpha or Omega, every wolf exercises its full potential at all times and will unhesitatingly avail itself of any opportunity that appears to offer advantage.

  For these reasons and more, no wolf can be turned into a domestic pet. Those people who would like to “own” a wolf with that idea in mind are doomed to failure at best, and may even find themselves engaged in a serious status fight with their eighty- or ninety-pound “pet” when it feels that it is time to take over the “pack.” Then, too, because a wolf is so extraordinarily perceptive, it may find cause to dislike a relative, friend, or neighbour, in which case such an individual could be attacked and injured. When such attacks by captive “pet” wolves have occurred, lawsuits invariably followed, and these have always been attended by screaming headlines and very bad publicity for the wolf, though in most instances the attack was invited by human ignorance. It is one thing for a dog to bite a person: it is quite a different proposition altogether if a wolf injures a human no matter how slightly. In such cases, the attack is taken to be proof of this animal’s savage nature.

  Nevertheless, wolves can be successfully kept in captivity. Under the right conditions and cared for by people who understand them and do not try to impose their will on them outside of the strictures of pack hierarchy, wolves become wonderful companions who love and respect their human associates and are delighted whenever they have close contact with them. What are the right conditions? To begin with, because these animals are highly social, no one should attempt to keep only one wolf; it will quickly become stressed, will probably try to climb out of its enclosure or dig its way to freedom, and will quite likely become intractable as it gets older. If this should happen, it will have to be disposed of, either by placing it in a zoo or some other kind of animal sanctuary, or by killing it.

  A single wolf can be kept in the home, but humans who would raise one under such conditions must be prepared to spend most of their time with the animal; and such people should not be house-proud, for the “pet” will certainly wreck furniture, doors, rugs, and anything else it can reach with its powerful jaws. Then, too, wolves like to play and are given to biting each other in a friendly way. With their heavy coats and tough skins, such bites are bloodless and practically painless to them, but any part of the human anatomy so treated will probably bleed, will most certainly become bruised, and will hurt a lot! And another thing: wolves greet each other by licking the face and the mouth: they always want to greet humans in the same way, but people are tall, and as a wolf must leap up to reach the face area, its great front paws, with their heavy, ever-sharp nails, can scrape and bruise. Some wolves jump up in a controlled way, giving warning of their intentions and almost unfolding themselves as they rise; others, more highly strung, leap suddenly, fast, aiming the muzzle at the face. If by chance the snout of the animal meets the face of a human, the front teeth, and particularly the upper canines, can punch holes in the flesh or, at the very least, deliver a blow akin to a swift, hard uppercut.

  The best way to safeguard the face from such excessive love is to crouch as soon as one enters the enclosure and then, raising the face, allow it to be properly licked. This is a ritual greeting, important to wolves, and they will always seek to give it. A second, less satisfactory way of blocking the paws and mouth is to lift an arm, elbow bent, in front of the chest and about a foot away from it, so that
the flailing paws and the loving but accidentally dangerous muzzle do not come into sudden, forceful contact with one’s face.

  When two or more wolves are kept, they should be properly and safely housed within a large, well-treed enclosure that, in my view, should not be smaller than one acre. The territory should contain a variety of natural obstacles that will challenge the ingenuity of the animals during close-contact play, or when one or another invites a companion to chase it at full speed. Such obstacles, unless very heavy and hard (such as rocks), will undoubtedly be chewed vigorously and frequently rearranged. In addition, the enclosure should contain several heights of land where wolves can stand or sit as they survey their habitat. Ideally, the terrain should also have at least one scenic lookout, a knoll near a clearing where long-distance gazing can be enjoyed.

  The success of Jim Wuepper’s venture, now in its ninth year, is due in great measure to the fact that Shawano and his pack live in just such a habitat. They can run and romp and climb obstacles, or find solitude when they need it. And the psychology students and professors who made the experiment possible have always limited their research to observation, refraining from conducting tests that molest the wolves and cause them to become stressed.

  Jim, of course, deserves a lot of credit. He loves each wolf, understands its needs, plays and romps like one of them, and if Shawano on occasion growls admonition at him, Jim either ignores him completely or stares him down, for no wolf will seek to attack while its eyes are locked to those of a human.