| The following is a list of the wolves at Wolf Haven. Some of them have
descriptions.
Destiny - she has been at Wolf Haven since 1985 when she was three
months old. As a pup she was beautiful; as an adult she is
magnificent, with black and silver coat. She is the darkest wolf of
those we shelter. She can be aloof and illusive, and remains somewhat
hard to get to know for strangers. She was born in captivity during
the spring of 1985. Mother Nature may gave gotten confused when she
created Destiny - the heart of a wolf, the quickness of a gazelle.
This she-wolf is fast, fast, fast. Being the "older woman" now, she
takes great pleasure in keeping Moose in line and being his companion.
Moose - came to Wolf Haven as a pup from Wolf Park in Indiana where he
was born. His official name, Alces, comes from the scientific name for
the moose, the animal he would have hunted had he been born in the
wild. He is an unusually large wolf, with long legs and a lean, lanky
body. His coat is many shades of tan, brown and black. He enjoys
attention from people and frequently greets the staff by standing on
his hind legs and putting his front paws on the fence making himself
taller than any of his visitors.
Windsong - is an adult female Buffalo Wolf. She is a rather famous
wolf, having done everything from schools, fairs, and Rotary Clubs to
being on the Today Show. She was the adopted "aunt" to five young
wolves when they lived right next to her. When they were pups, she
would get very upset if it appeared someone or thing might harm the
pups in any way. She taught her human companions to treat the pups
with the utmost care, respect and love, just as the pack does for all
their pups.
Tahoma - is a a young adult female Timber Wolf. She was named after
the Native American word for what we now call Mt. Rainier. In her
teenage phase, she was a real rebel, her philosophy was to do what she
wanted to do with whichever of the Wolf Haven staff was visiting her.
She loved to eat shoelaces, shoes, shirts and the like. Now a little
older, she is very excited over human companionship, and treats humans
in a very loving, playful manner.
Little John - is an adult male Timber Wolf. His three sisters are
Morning Star, Kiowa and Cris. He is a truly beautiful animal,
majestic, healthy and strong; the proud leader of this pack. He was
named after Little John in Robin Hood; the result of a children's
contest. Though he is sometimes a little timid around strangers, he
has developed those strong bonds with those that he has spent some time
with. John participate in a field ecology class to help
representatives from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and U.S. Forest
Service.
Lucan - is an adult Tundra Wolf. He and his mate, Clementine, were
sheltered in a small private zoo. In the owner's will he decreed that
on his demise the wolves would go to Wolf Haven. He had a great
respect for Wolf Haven and felt that was the only place which could
care properly for them.
The rest of the wolves are:
Hambone Rogue Bullet Homer
Sung Kiwi Smokey Onyx
Princess Lilypad Nehani Nero Gyrene
Nakomis Jason Colorado Kathleen
Noah Nimrod Sybil Teddybear
Hurricane Kiowa Jeremiah Gris Gris
Morning Star Cris Araby Shasta
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| HOW HIGH THE PRICE?
AN ADMIRER OF WOLVES ASSESSES THE COST OF HER DEVOTION
When I was about seventeen years old, I decided to get a wild pet. I
settled on a wolf, I think because of my particular interest in dogs.
I found very little literature about wolves, but I read everything I
could get my hands on, and none of it spoke against keeping them as
pets. I came away realizing there was really very little known about
wolves, an much of what was "known" was, in fact, only assumed. There
began to be more purpose behind my dream. It would be a lifetime
commitment, to learn all I could and to share what I learned. It was a
bigger responsibility that I ever dreamed.
So I knew what I wanted before I got Bonnie. I wanted her, first of
all, to really know she was a wolf, so I arranged not to pick her up
from the zoo until she had opened her eyes and lived with her family
for a time. I intended to raise her on my parent's farm, to socialize
her to the chickens, horses, dogs, and numerous cats. It never
occurred to me she might not be just another member of the family, like
the dogs were.
What I got was an infant creature that knew beyond a doubt that she was
a wolf, that I was not, and that I was directly responsible for
removing her from her rightful family! That first night home, she
mourn-howled incessantly on the vast linoleum kitchen floor; but she
also knew that a seventeen-pound tom cat was easy prey for a wolf cub
that was all of twenty days old (and weighed perhaps four pounds, so
she bowled him over and attempted to disembowel him on the spot. On
the second night, when she was three weeks old, I offered her some
cooked liver from my plate "to see if wolves liked cooked meat." The
next moment, she had climbed up my leg like a cat, braced her back
against my chest, and arrived in my plate, gobbling everything on it
with terrible growls! The family was in shock. In the following days,
she began to dominate me, her little body rigid as she "rode up" on
whatever part of me was available, with fierce growls responding to
every one of my moves. Worried, I contacted the zookeeper, some dog
trainers, and a malamute breeder, wanting to know how to proceed.
Their collective advice was to "treat her like a mother wolf would,
pick her up by the scruff and shake her, throttle her, growl
ferociously, make her know you're the boss! There was no else to call,
no books to read, and obviously I had to do something, so I took their
advice. What happened was that the small wolf that had begun to trust
me saw that I was not to be trusted, that I was unreasonably violent,
and was to be avoided at all costs. Instead of submission and love I
got mistrust and defiance. So I did an about-face and let things
revert to the way they had been. Bonnie happily dominated me for the
rest of her life.
By the time she was six months old, it became very obvious that she was
going to be very selective about whom she liked, whether they were
family members or not. During her third year, she became seriously
aggressive to unfamiliar dogs on her outings. It became impossible to
take her out by myself since she was so strong I could not hold her
back, even though I was more than double her weight. On the last
occasion I did take her out alone, two foolish and unleashed Dobermans
approached us down the beach. Bonnie gleefully dragged me toward the
battle, an my only recourse was to head out to deep water, where she
swam strong circles around me with her head, hackles, and tail high
above the water, roaring all the while. The Doberman's owners,
eventually seeming to sense there was something not quite right, loaded
up their dogs and left. Finally, her future as an ambassador wolf was
not bright. Children always make her act like a big bad wolf, and she
was suspicious of adult strangers.
So there I was, with a maturing wolf that fit none of the roles I had
laid out so nicely for her. I found myself in the position so many
disillusioned exotic-pet owners reach, stuck with the prospect of
keeping for life a wolf animal that was costly, assertive, dangerous,
and destructive and, although friendly to me within limits, not at all
a "pet". It was unthinkable to destroy or get rid of Bonnie. We had
grown very close. I had learned many lessons during my friendship with
her. I knew now that wolves, regardless of birthplace, are as wild as
the storm blowing over the mountains, that they are undeniably
formidable predators, and that they are not suitable as pets! I felt
bad about having gotten a wolf for a pet in the first place and wanted
to do something to help keep other wolves out of the nightmare of pet
situations.
So what did I do? I launched into a wolf-hybrid breeding program that
was to span a number of year and more lives than I care to place on
this paper. At least two wolf-wise friends advised against this
venture, one out of hard-learned compassion, the other out of concern
for the reputation of wolves and the safety of children. But I
believed I could do better than the dark scenarios they forecast. What
follows is only a small portion of my experience as a wolf-hybrid
breeder.
My intention was to find a mate for Bonnie that could produce pups that
were very wolflike in appearance, so they would satisfy the urge to
have an exotic pet, yet also very doglike in temperament, and therefore
suitable as pets. He must be able to produce hybrid pups that were
"safe" pets, since I knew no that wolves were not. At last I found
him. Togiak was one of the sweetest, gentlest Alaskan malamutes I've
ever met, as well as an AKC champion with an excellent background. I
felt certain this distinguished dog would leave his desirable genetic
stamp on a litter of first-generation wolf hybrids. Of the five
resulting exquisite pups, one male was very wolflike and wild. After
his new owner took him, he was never heard from again and could not be
traced. One female, which I kept and of whose sweet nature I never
had a doubt, was also exceptionally wolflike. Sadly, she figured out
how to climb over the overhang on the wolf pen and was killed on the
highway. About the remaining three I expect you to form your own
judgments. Alfie failed in her first home as a pet, turning terribly
shy by three months of age. Her second home lasted only until she
began nipping at her owner's legs when he cleaned the pen. Her third
home lasted a full year. She lived with Arrow, a
three-quarters-wolf-male that had been rescued but was too shy to
touch, as was she. They made a happy couple. But, one day while the
family was gardening, the baby toddled over to the shy animals
unnoticed. Alphie grabbed him through the wire and shredded his arm.
One hundred stitches on a soft, tiny arm. Alphie was killed. I could
only fault her owners for not having a safety fence to keep the child
away.
Storm was big, soft, and beautiful, and his human family was wonderful.
He enjoyed free run of a large yard, got lots of house time, and played
gently with the children. But the owners never built the maximum
security pen I made them promise to build, and, as luck would have it,
Storm turned out to be one of those hybrids that did everything in the
book. He jumped over, then ripped through the fence to play with the
neighbor's dog. He ignored "hot" wires. When his owner chained him as
a last resort, he ate not one but two holes in the family's (rented)
house large enough to admit him. His second home was in a large,
wolf-proof, L-shaped kennel with a pure wolf companion. The entire
yard was enclosed in six-foot chain link, but neighbors were over for a
barbecue within the yard, and their unattended child was climbing the
kennel fence, when Storm grabbed him and severely mangled his leg.
Storm was spared the bullet and given to a breeder. He lived for
eleven years and sired hundreds of puppies. What are their stories?
Blue was the most dog-like of the litter but, from the age of three
weeks, his temperament was cold steel. At nine months, I knew beyond
doubt that he was dangerous to children. When he was a year into his
life, people were often terrified of him - even though he was securely
penned: his defiant stance and cold, pale yellow stare could make your
skin crawl. More than one person advised me to destroy him before
"something happens."
Destroy my Blue? Never! But, during his third year, he began to
threaten me when I spent daily time in the wolf pen. He was second
ranking in a group of seven other wolves and hybrids. My husband, Dan,
was worried about me going in while he was at work. Finally Blue
fought, beat, and nearly killed the alpha Diamond. With Blue as alpha,
I could never enter the pen again, and I knew he would shortly finish
off the ever gentle Diamond. I shot him as he stared down at me from
the highest platform, this new throne. When I entered the pen to
remove his, finally "safe" body, the wolves were all gentle and mellow.
It seemed they had expected this.
It wasn't Togiak's fault. It wasn't Bonnie's fault. It was mine, for
selling wolf-hybrid time bombs to people who refused to believe the
warning I steadfastly sewed into each sale. I was so picky in
selecting the right homes! I was so careful to educate prospective
buyers about what they were getting, or might be getting! But even as
I chose this huggy-soft malamute sire, I guess I new deep inside he
couldn't do magic. There is no such thing as a "safe" animal to cross
with a wolf. The wolf is first and foremost a formidable predator, and
if not even thousands of years of domestication have made him
thoroughly safe (as evidence by the many unsafe dogs we all have
known), how can anyone expect to undo in one generation, or several,
what nature spent millions perfecting.
My career as a breeder came to a close. More often than not, I now
voice a strong opinion about hybrids not being suitable pets and try to
convince other breeders to see the tragedy their programs are causing.
I have kept my own animals all these years (Bonnie died just shy of
sixteen years) but not without price. After seeing all the trials and
tragedy we imposed on the wolves, and they imposed on us, friends and
family members made it clear they felt we were foolish to drag around
"those animals." Finding a home where you may keep them is not easy,
whether renting or buying. Every place we lived with the wolves and
hybrids, and, I regret to say, there were many, we had neighbor
trouble. Wolves cause suspicion in neighbors, whether they are next
door in town or twenty miles down the mountain and just happen to own a
wilderness parcel near yours! Permits to keep the wolves do not
protect you from neighbors who are either unnerved by the presence of
wolves in the area or object to their singing. We were called onto
defend the wolves in court, in public hearings, and in the local
newspaper. They were accused of howling (true), getting loose and
wreaking havoc (false), causing chickens a mile away to die of fright
(false), and of causing the bears, mountain lions, and golden eagles to
leave the vicinity (preposterous)!
Finally, in 1982, I came to work at the Folsom City Zoo, a small zoo in
Northern California which houses a number of non-releasable North
American native animals and, notably, discarded wild-animal pets. Here
I have been witness to the tragic stories of countless unfortunate
wild-animal pets. My experience with wolves and hybrids and, now, the
zoo, has led me to realize the majority of exotic pets (and here I
include hybrids) are dead before they reach the age of three.
Frequently we receive requests for information about how to handle a
difficult situation with a wolf hybrid. More often it is a desperate
plea for a home for an animal that has turned out to be nothing like
the owner expected, more like a wild animal than he/she is prepared to
handle, and a big problem the owners need to unload. The zoo now has a
permanent exhibit of wolf hybrids as an educational public service.
Signs on the exhibit tell the true, and unhappy, stories of the hybrids
within and stress the serious drawbacks of such animals as pets. I
know the strategy helps, but it reaches so few, and most of those it
does reach believe, as I did, that they can do it better.
The strongest and most painful lessons I have learned are the ones I am
most grateful for. Now I know the far-reaching responsibilities one
assumes when one "owns" an animal, especially a wild one, and I am
committed to sharing that knowledge for the good of people and animals
alike. Mine is a personal hell, for not only do I have many regrets
about what I have done, but often the animals I must turn away to an
uncertain future are, in fact, descendants of pups I once sold. I am
directly responsible for their tragedies, but the only atonement I can
offer is in speaking out against the animals I so dearly love.
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Terry Jenkins, her husband, Dan, and daughters Lena and Mary Ruth live
in California with a number of animals, including two mustangs and a
dwindling pack of wolves and hybrids. At the Folsom City Zoo she
concentrates on improving the animals' living conditions and developing
the zoo's credo, "Animals are not disposable." The Jenkins also own
Walking Wolf, a business producing animal-oriented art, embossed
stationary and jewelry.
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