Kissed by a Wolf


As humans we have the capacity to be both predator and prey.  Vegetarian or not, I promise you, get a good hunger started in your belly and cute and fuzzy things will look much less like companions and much more like corndogs.  I've looked at squirrels that way and they can tell. Generally they are indifferent or curious, but when I'm real hungry…they keep back.


Just as animals that were once our prey can see my hunger and my intent in my eyes, we can see the same in animals that were once our competitors or our predators.


I remember my first time face to face with a lion.  At one moment the gigantic thing was obviously concentrating very hard on a nearby leaf that had fluttered across his vision.  They are, after all, still cats, still curious and cute.  The next moment the lion locked eyes with me and my knees weakened.  I knew what the squirrel felt like under my hungry gaze; to that lion, I was the corndog.


This is, in part, why I was so frightened last week when I was slated to meet two full grown, full blood, gray wolves.  I've met wolf-dogs before and felt a shadow of that fear.  Wolf-dogs are not pets, nor are they truly companions; they are entirely independent beings living in a world in which they don't belong.
Mission: Wolf, the organization responsible for my wolf meeting, exists to protect wolves born in captivity, and to educate people about wild and caged wolves in the Unites States.  There are around 4000 living in the wild in the lower 48, and around 250,000 wolves and wolf-dog hybrids live in captivity, most of which will die in their second year. Mission: Wolf rescues wolves that have been bred in captivity and educates people of all ages about carnivores and related issues with the Ambassador Wolf program, which I was attending.


I wasn't sure what form this wolf interaction would take, but I assumed that there would be something between the wolves and I; a cage probably, or maybe a few hundred yards.Thirty minutes into the presentation the only thing between my teeth and a wolf's tongue was our shared saliva.


Earlier Kent Weber, the founder of Mission: Wolf, was telling the group how to act around the wolves.  "Magpie won't be satisfied until she's really able to lick your teeth, this is how all wolves greet each other," he instructed.  Also, "Wolves play by chewing on each other's heads, so try not to play with them."  And third, "I usually like to have a back door in a conference room, just in case something goes wrong, but we'll sorta be trapped in here."


As comforting as all of this was, I wasn't really ready when the wolves sauntered into the room.  Their leashes were thick and I trusted that I was not being put into danger, but the wolves' heads hung low as they entered and their powerful legs and gigantic feet pushed them smoothly making them seem wary of the situation and ready to defend themselves.


But soon after they entered our circle of people they suddenly seemed understand our intentions and they lifted their heads with interest and relief.  They approached each individual, pushed snout to mouth, peered deeply into each individual soul, and then licked some teeth.  The breath of wolves has no sent, and their tongues are


like sandpaper.  My mouth felt cleaner after the greeting than beforehand.


I was not comfortable gazing into those deep yellow eyes, but neither was I frightened.  Wolves and people evolved together across the northern hemisphere, sharing in life and death with mutual respect and interest.  We were sometimes competitors and sometimes companions, but never hunted each other specifically for food.  What I saw in Raven's eyes was a marvelously strange sort of person, and what she saw was a marvelously strange sort of wolf.  Neither saw a lion, neither saw a corndog.