Never Trust a Lonely Wolf
Blog, Wolves | December 29, 2009
The day before Christmas we did an urgent operation on Little White Girl (a Large white wolf but when we got her she was little). She had been rapidly losing weight. It was supposed to be 10 below the next few days. It was major surgery, her abdomen was shaved and she had 20 metal staples in her belly, so we brought her in the warm cabin to heal. We spent a reasonably peaceful couple of days and nights. She sucked up all the love and attention and homemade chicken soup made just for her, fed every two hours. She emanated contentment. She lay quietly next to us during our eggnog and Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, enjoying the companionship and the warmth. She adjusted so easily to the house life that we let our guard down. The third morning we went to visit some friends for an hour, bringing our dogs with us, leaving her alone to rest, we thought. We returned and opened the door upon wolf devastation. She was still in her large cage but in her attempt to get out of it had somehow maneuvered it across the living room floor, completely pushed out the sliding bottom insert upon which she had been standing, pulled up all the metal framing underneath it, pulled off the table cloth that we had laid across the top of the cage over a large piece of plywood to serve as our Christmas area, pulled off the Christmas tree; scattered the 750 pieces of a puzzle we had been assembling all over the cabin (how I don’t know, as she was still in fact in the cage). Fortunately Jean, wise in wolfly ways, had double chained it with big clips in addition to the locks that came with it. Water had been widely splashed across the room As we entered she put her ears down and whined and wagged and greeted us with several minutes of pure ecstasy. Pure happiness. We petted and she pushed hard against our hands, eyes closed. She circled a few times, gave a grunt of satisfaction, and lay down to relax. We were back. Wolves are creatures of very intense family feelings and a good deal of vitality and ingenuity with which to express them. Never abandon a wolf.
Nomad Lives by Jennifer Sauer
ok love that stuff
Comment by jakub — February 21, 2010 @ 1:54 pm
omg loved this stuff
Comment by katier7 — March 21, 2010 @ 5:50 pm
Oh, I so LOVE the story of Little White!
16 years ago a wolf hybrid came into our care. As outdoor enthusiasts and me employed as a wild-life biologist working outdoors most days, we felt well up to the task at hand which we knew was going to be arduous, but joyous—and he was too precious to let slide away. He came with the name, which we kept “Hakuna Matate” and though “the name means no worries the rest of your days” (according to disney) for us, well, there were plenty of worries! Though “only” a hybrid (~85 wolf/15 Malamute), rest assured, raising a wolf-dog is still 99% raising a wolf! I can so relate to the tale above, having come home to much “dog-struction” as you tell. I can only imagine the wrath of a lonely Kuna, had he not had Sparky, the husky mutt, and Robin, the lab, to be always at his side.
We had Kuna for 5 years before we dared leave him out of our care for an extended time. He stayed with his “grandparents” while we went to France. We got the first call while still in the airport: Kuna had (already) figured out how to open the latched sliding glass door and was off! Fortunately, he was in the mountains and safe from cars and guns and “jackaled” back almost as quickly as he had left. He just wanted us all to rest assured that his compliance was completely of his own volition.
We have a (2-page!) set of “protocols” for Kuna care, beyond the normal of feeding and watering and walking. And we always joke about Rule #1.) Never trust the wolf, followed by, Rule #2: Refer to Rule #1.)
Now he is an old man, but still as wily as ever! Recently, I left him home (alone: violating rule #3: Assure the wolf has company!) as I went out for a hike too tough for his old man-ed-ness. Not at ALL pleased by the situation (refer to rule #1), the wolf who can no longer bear to do “paws up” to get in the truck and must be lifted, managed to jump up on the 4 foot tall day bed, push open a sliding window, exit via a 6 ft. drop, where he found a weakness (?!) in the 6-8ft tall fence, after which he promptly tottered down the street 3 blocks to a friend’s house, who was home sick, (How did he know that she would be home?!) He scratch scratch scratched at the door, she let him in and he took up napping next to her sick bed. Ahhhh, there is nothing like a wolfie.
Comment by L.Justice — July 14, 2010 @ 6:02 pm