“What?” You need to know why this blog exists. OK…because.

Because I have some books I wish to share with you. Books about wolves. No…not the story of “The Big Bad Wolf”, but of the real ones. The wild ones. The ones that we need to get to know so we stop wanting to kill every one of “THEM”!

“Them.” The wolves who are actually so much like us. The canines that have families: mothers and fathers and babies (cubs) – even – teenagers! and brothers and sisters.

I was prompted to write about them after reading the introduction to chapter “1. seed” in Susan Imhoff Bird’s “Howl.” She writes about her life studying wolves – and other aspects of her life. She described an encounter with “Wolf.” About how their eyes locked on each other’s. The wolf standing with hills behind her.

I had such an encounter. Reading this brought back a vivid visual memory. A wolf, standing in my front yard, the mountains of the Wasatch in the background to my east, October, 2001. I have told this story to several close friends, so I guess it’s ok to share it with you all.

“Oh. Where you from?” I asked as our eyes met & locked. I didn’t know then if this large ‘dog’ was male or female, shepherd, coyote or… hm. It’s too tall for either of those. Hm. Unblinking yellow eyes. Erect ears. Looked just like the picture. Wolf.

I settled down onto my heels there on our driveway, extended my hand toward ‘it’ and turned the corners of my closed mouth up in a non-aggressive smile. It turned right, continuing to stare at me and giving me a look at ‘it’ from the side. Not male. No sign of collar, or of ever having one on her neck. Left side dark & matted, like having slept on a patch of wet dirt. She moved to a position at my “12,” eyes still locked, my hand still extended toward her. She approached, inches away from my fingertips. Sniff.

I folded my arms close to me and she closed the gap, her nose inches from my face.

The surprise! She put her nose to mine and licked my lips! A kiss! By a wild wolf!

What next? I stood. Asked if she’d like to come in the house and have some food & water. Head cocked to her right. A sign that a venture into the house would be ok? Well, OK, then. I led the way, she followed, into the garage past the cars, up the stairs and into the hallway to the kitchen – together. My mother-in-law, Louise, was there with our new, weeks-old, black standard poodle puppy. “Wolfie” sniffed puppy. Puppy almost wagged his tail off. Louise said, “My, what a big dog!” With that, Wolfie turned and took her exit, ignoring the offer of food & water, continuing her journey to where? From here to a destination only she could envision. Why? For reasons only she knew. Bon voyage, my dear friend.

In previous tellings of this story I usually end it with, “She doesn’t write. She doesn’t call. I guess our brief romance is over.” But this memory never fades.

For references, etc.:
https://wildwolf.blog/bibliography-wolf-books-and-other-favorites/