A Two-Wolf New Year’s Eve

Animal Story, Blog, Wolves | January 7, 2010

Pathetic Cucumber

Little White Girl had been in the house two days. Because of space (our cabin living room/dining room/office/infirmary is 12 by 18 feet) that meant Cucumber had to be ousted as we weren’t sure if the two would be aggressive and Little White Girl needed peace for recovery. We at least brought Cucumber in for her dinner and breakfast so she wouldn’t feel totally abandoned. The first morning she was not her usual self — instead of bounding into the cabin and wolfing down her food, she walked in haltingly, eating with lack-luster. The second morning she barely dragged herself into the cabin with tiny little halting steps, her back legs almost collapsing beneath her. Her eyes were bleary and she looked as if she had aged 20 years. Because of her history I called the vet, worrying that something had gone wrong with her stomach again — perhaps she had a twisted bowel? She looked awful. Words simply cannot convey how pathetic she was.

The vet was unavailable until the morning so we rearranged the living room, brought in a second cage, blocked the two cages from sight of one another, and brought Cucumber in for the night, for warmth and observation. We didn’t get much sleep with all the worrying and tumult. Little White Girl couldn’t make it through the night and had to be walked past Cucumber to get to the door for a 3 AM walk. Cucumber, knowing exactly what was happening even though she couldn’t see it, got agitated, which meant she too had to go out. Talkeetna, our malamute, locked in the bedroom, carried on mightily when she heard the two intruders in the living room getting special attention, and demanded to go out — but we had to wait until first Little White Girl, then Cucumber were finished, locked back in their cages, blocked from each other, and then Little White Girl blocked from sight as we had to take Talkeetna within inches of her cage to get to the cabin door.

In the morning we staggered up wearily to check on Cucumber. She looked up at us with bright eyes and danced on her back legs with impatience for her breakfast which she wolfed down. She looked 20 years younger, all signs of pain and trauma and gone. We were beaten once again. And what was a two-wolf New Year’s Eve, is now turning into a two-wolf January.

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