by Lynn Savage

In order to help you understand the responsibility and the pitfalls of wolfdog ownership I would like to tell you a story.

He was approximately 8 weeks old and he had all the beauty of a wharf-rat. I was thrilled, I had finally achieved a chance at a dream come true. I had been looking for a wolfdog who looked like a pure wolf. My plan was to take him with me many places and use him when I went to schools, scouting groups, and powwows. Always before I had used a medium content animal and had felt a stab of disappointment when I stood before a group dressed in my buckskin dress and leggings and heard someone say "You look like a real Indian, but that somehow doesn’t look like a real wolf."

Well, now I would show them. This young wolfdog was very high content and promised to look like the real thing. I was working long days for the State in those days but I vowed I would socialize this pup so much I could take him anywhere. In fact I did take him numerous places and he was petted and talked about at the feed store, the park, and whenever possible to trade day events. In the beginning he did very well. He would wag his tail and then sidle up to people to be loved.

When he was about three months old his personality began to change. I first noticed that when someone came to my place instead of wagging up to meet the person, he would disappear. Sometimes I would have to search my property for a long time before I found him. If I attempted to lead him out of his hiding place he would fight like a big trout hooked on a fishing line. If I did succeed in getting him up to the person he would urinate and defecate on himself.

Well, I was not about to let my dream go. My work got more demanding and I didn’t have a lot of time. But the day came when I was off work and I decided I needed to load him up and take him on a run to the feed store. I should have taken the hint when it took me something like thirty minutes to get him into the cab of my pickup. I persevered and I got him in and started the approximately 10-mile trip to the feed store. The pup weighed about 45 or 50 pounds at this time and was standing stiffly on the passenger seat.

As I got to the end of my road and turned into a busy county road, I glanced over at him. I swear his eyes were glowing a greenish phosphorous color - like the "Hounds of the Baskervilles." I drove calmly on and tried to tell myself everything was okay. I had probably driven another three miles when it happened. My pure looking lovable pup leaped toward me and grabbed my arm about halfway between my wrist and elbow. I told him "no" in a firm voice and kept my hands on the wheel. He didn’t turn me loose, instead he began to exert pressure on the arm. His eyes were fixed on me and I was beginning to hear a low rumble that sounded like it was coming from inside a very deep well.

I very gingerly attempted to pry his jaw loose from my arm while I was stopped at a traffic light. I don’t know how things appeared to the driver directly behind me but from my vantage point when the pup turned loose of my arm and went for my face I saw my life flash before me. I think I screamed "Okay you win - we’re going home!" I proceeded to make it to the first turn around and headed home. The pup eased off of me - he had gotten into my face and his hot breath was causing me to sweat. I think I drove home at about warp 10. The pup had moved to the back seat of my stretch cab pick-up. I was about a half mile from home when the odor hit me. It was the sickening smell of very fresh dog poop.

I pulled into the drive and opened the door of the truck gasping partly from the smell and partly from the fear I had just experienced. The pup calmly climbed out and let me unhook the leash and slowly ambled down to his favorite spot by the barn. The back seat of my truck looked like 10 canines had relieved themselves in it. I think it took me the rest of my time off to clean it up. My dream was over.

Now the name of this pup was Wisedkajak, now he is going on five years old. I am the only person who can touch him. As long as there is no one on the premises he and I are fast friends. In fact I don’t think I have ever been as close to a dog before. At close to 95 pounds, he still tries to climb into my lap. He wants to be with me as much as possible. We have spent many happy and special hours together. I know he loves me and I guess there’s a part of me who is egotistical enough to feel good about a wild thing who trusts only me.

There is a serious flip-side to this scenario. Wisedkajak goes ballistic if he can’t get far enough away from persons other than myself who even look at him. He’s gone through hot wire, and over 8 foot fences to escape the gaze of strangers. Once he got completely off of the premises. Friends told me to give up looking for him after four or five days. I couldn’t bring myself to close the outside gate. I left it open in case he came home so he could be safe from the world. As time went on I was told I needed to close the gate in order to have closure about my friend. Then after he had been gone two weeks, one morning around 4:00 a.m., I heard the other dogs howling and carrying on. I got up and walked out to the entrance and there he was - dirty, exhausted, his rear end full of bird shot, his foot pads bleeding and raw, but he was home. I can’t tell you how I felt when he attempted to climb in my lap and covered my face with wolfish kisses.

He is still with me and we have that special bond that is totally unexplainable. He will live with me until one of us dies. The problem I will have to face if I ever become unable to care for him is the only solution I can conceive. I will have to put him down. Even the option of having him go to a rescue is not realistic. He would have to be tranquilized and the terror he would go through and the chance of his escaping and being left on his own in a world he does not understand is more than I can contemplate. It is not his fault that he is this way. He can only be what he is - not the animal I had dreamed of taking to special events - but a special friend that I have to take on his terms.

I no longer work and can stay home with all my wolfdogs. Each one has been a teacher. Wisedkjak has taught me that I cannot put dog expectations on an animal who does not posses the personality of a dog, but who has the shy reserved nature of the wolf and like his wolf ancestors has a natural distrust of man. I now use a neutered wolfdog who has more dog personality than wolf and who looks somewhat like a wolf.

I use this story to help people understand that when they say they want the really high content animal so they can feel that they own a wolf, they must have realistic expectations of that animal. Lately there has been a trend for breeders to scoff at the lower wolf content wolfdogs. Many people I have spoken with have said that a breeder of wolfdogs who breeds animals that socializes more like dogs are not as accepted. I get tired of hearing some wolfdog people say that an animal with a malamute mask or too short a nose is not a good animal. If the animal suits the owner and they have a good relationship, they are superb dogs, and will be the dogs who become the ambassadors of good will for the breed.