Cook County News Herald

Beware of lurking wolves



 

 

The picture hung in my grandmother’s parlor: a winter scene in which a solitary wolf stands on an overlook, gazing down on the twinkling lights of a village below. I was captivated by it and still am captivated by wolves. In this neck of the woods, we live side-by-side with these predators, and many of us have our own private wolf stories.

Mine start with Alphie. That’s what we called the male wolf who stalked our Malamute during the year Dick and I lived in our remote cabin. I only saw Alphie as a dark form in the night, but I saw plenty of his yellow calling cards on shrubs along the ice-bound shores of Tucker Lake.

Our pretty little Malamute was sending out “come hither” scents and Alphie was intensely interested. Since locals informed us that dog/wolf combinations often did not end well and that male wolves were known to kill female dogs after mating, we kept a strict eye on her. One night, even with our full attention, she bolted towards the lake where, to my horror I saw a dark form. I grabbed her collar, my luck was good, and I pulled her to safety.

The next morning, along with his signature yellow calling card, we found a footprint left by Alphie that confirmed all our fears. Yes. He was a big wolf and yes, he was stalking our dog.

Christmas Eve many years later, I brought Molly, my petite chocolate lab to the basement walkout door. Celebrations were done. It was time to say good night and go to bed. I opened the door and Molly ran out into the crisp wintry night. I followed, standing near the door, waiting while she performed her business.

Suddenly everything exploded. Molly leaped past me, barking furiously. Flabbergasted, I turned to see where she was going. Not ten feet behind me stood a wolf.

My lab didn’t hesitate. She weighed only forty pounds but she ran straight for the wolf. “Molly!” I screamed, horrified. The wolf turned tail and she followed into a snowy ravine.

Now I seriously began screaming, hoping to catch the attention of Dick and my son who were upstairs. “Help! Molly! Come!” I’ve never yelled louder in my life. I peered into the darkness. Nothing. If Molly didn’t return, what would I do?

Dick and Tom finally heard my screeches and appeared, wondering what the heck had happened. Thankfully, Molly had the common sense to return home instead of pursuing the wolf and loped back to us. Her pride was evident. She’d driven an intruder from her territory.

Ever since, I pay attention to what’s behind me.

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