Photo Cred: Misty Beil, Yellowstone National Park

 

This is a true tale about wolves – Canus lupus.

***

If I still lived in a world where I got a story before being tucked into bed at night with a cool glass of water, a prayer for safekeeping, and a kiss on the forehead, I’d ask for the wolf story. Not the one with the little girl with her basket and Grandma stuffed into the closet, but the story of real, live wolves, set in Yellowstone.

Of course, my storyteller would suffer from fatigue, done with me and my redundant request. She would probably negotiate for another fable – maybe a poem about persimmons or sonnet about suitors or prose about prisoners, and on occasion, I might concede with a sigh, but deep down, I would want the wolf story again. I will always want the wolf story.

***

Since history bears witness, let’s travel back to the late 1800’s when the gray wolf was profiled as a predator. In 1872, at the completion and opening of Yellowstone National Park, an act (by the same name,) stated that the Secretary of Interior would “provide against wanton destruction of the fish and game found within the Park.” Loose in specific interpretation, ranchers, biologists, ecologists, and those driving decisions, determined that wolves were less game, more “wanton destructors,” and removed their protection. In some cases, there were even bounties for their hides and pelts. (You can’t blame these 1800’ers. They were doing the best they knew with what they had, which back then was dial up on a shared fax line and, man, was it slow.) By 1926, gray wolves were eradicated from Yellowstone.

Decades passed. America was busy with wars and the creation of TV dinners. The absence of the gray wolf weighed on the land they once roamed. Elk and bison populations bulged. As herbivores, the expanding number of these species put a big snacking on plant life, which reduced the leafy canopies for birds to land and nest. The elk and bison also munched down the willow population, and everyone who knows a beaver, knows that’s the wood they prefer for the construction of their dens. Without the wolves, the eco-system was cracking apart.

Humans took notice.

In 1975, gray wolves were classified as endangered, and recovery was mandated by Endangered Species Act. Reversing an ocean liner takes space and time. Twenty years pass. In 1995, with resources, staff, and support in place, thirty-one Canadian wolves, said buh-bye to their packs, flashed their passports at the border, and rehomed in Yellowstone.

***

And this is where our bedtime story begins …

Once upon a time, as Canadian replacement wolves are figuring out the accent and acclimating to their new digs, a researcher, Rick McIntyre, takes his post as observer and documenter in Yellowstone National Park. McIntyre has volumes of crisp spiral bounds ready for wolf pattern and behavior field notes. It’s McIntyre who offers our narrative.

Our first characters are a litter of pups, numbered as part of the wolf project. McIntyre develops an affection for Wolf 8, nicknaming him “little guy,” because of his size and nature. 8 is a runt. He’s picked on by his siblings, often left out or behind by the others. His coat is muted and uninteresting. He’s below average in most ways wolfy – yet there’s something about 8 that McIntyre is drawn toward.

8 shows resilience. He once backed down a bear as it chased after his siblings who had (come to find out,) stolen an elk calf carcass. 8 is brave. 8 has heart.

As 8 matures, and winter comes, he meets a single female, Wolf 9, with pups of her own. (Her mate had been killed and she’s in a jam.) 9 needs to stay with her pups to keep them warm and she needs to hunt to keep them fed. She can’t do both and choosing will risk death of her litter from either exposure or starvation. Wolf 8 befriends Wolf 9 and begins doing her hunting, bringing back food for her and her pups. They survive. Over time even though he offers less in looks and size than other wolves, his steadfast actions win her over. Wolf 8 secures Wolf 9 as his partner, positioning himself with an insta-fam, complete with step-pups. They become part of Rose Creek Pack.

Among the step-pups is Wolf 21. He and his stepdad have a special relationship. It’s from 8 that 21 learns to wolf. They play and hunt together. As 21’s siblings grow and move away to join other packs and start households of their own, 21 lingers with Mom and 8.

Important to relay is 21’s size and beauty. He’s a giant, dwarfing 8 and the other wolves. His coat is dark and lustrous. Visitors come to Yellowstone in hopes of a glimpse of Wolf 21. He’s a bright and shining star, popular with the other wolves, staff, and park guests.

Eventually, 21 leaves his parents for a mate of his own, Wolf 42, described as a real sweetheart. Wolf 42 is part of the Druid Peak Pack, led by an alpha female that McIntyre calls Psychopath. This is an earned nickname, stemming from her reputation of ruthless violence. She’s bad news and views all other packs as her rivals. Despite the kind dispositions of 21 and 42, the order of the pack falls under the jurisdiction and reign of Her Royal Psycho-ness and things turn dicey.

Much like all great stories, and the foreshadowing of a wolf nicknamed Psychopath, the packs of 21 and 8 fall into conflict over turf and power. With snow on the ground and trouble in the air, howls and battle yelps echo over the valley as the wolves storm along a mountainous ridge. From his perch, McIntyre lowers his binoculars, sickened to watch 8 and 21 at the leads, charging toward slaughter.

At a clear size and age disadvantage, it’s hard for McIntyre to digest a destiny that is likely to unfold for 8 ­– at the paws and jaws of the very pup he raised as his own. It’s not as though 21 has many choices – if he chooses not to kill 8, Psychopath is on his tail, at the ready.

McIntyre raises his head and lenses; committed to his work, prepared to document the horrific fight. He cringes as 8 and 21 close in. What a sad ending to this great love story.

And then, (cue climatic soundtrack,) something miraculous happens, instead of attacking, 21 keeps running. He leads Druid Peak Pack right past the pack of Rose Creek  disrupting the intention and changing the course of the battle. The packs are now running away from one another, keeping pace along their respective ridges. No wolves perish.

It’s hard to say if 21 went against his nature (since he was a wolf,) or with his nature, (since he was the beloved stepson of 8,) but he decided to rewrite the ending. If this story were predictable and ordinary in its outcome, then it wouldn’t be my bedtime story. It’s the break from the script, the variance of the expected, the rising to the extraordinary that elevates and satiates the listener.

As I snuggle in for sleep, I ponder …

How decisions are made based on information at hand.

That some decisions are right; some must be righted. The righting can span across decades.

Even when we hate it or are embarrassed by it, history can be a resource of reference and learning.

Within us lives the capacity to be like 21, as good exists inside.

Within us resides the capability to be like Psychopath, as bad looks for a welcome host.

At any moment, there are top dogs and underdogs and the rest of us dogs. Behavior is a result of decisions, and, in many situations, I have the internal power to shift the difference.

It’s all in the wolf that I feed.

The End.

Night. Night.

 

https://www.rickmcintyrebooks.com/the-rise-of-wolf-8

https://www.nps.gov/yell/learn/nature/wolf-restoration.htm