Is there something of ourselves in wolves?

Our fear of wolves is rooted deep in our past as a hunting people The howl was long and mournful, rising slowly to a crescendo in the twilight. I turned to look at my friend, dread filling the space between us. We had been watching a herd of elk in a large meadow in New Mexico’s Jemez Mountains, and we had lingered too long. Now we were hiking up a narrow forest trail toward our car in almost complete darkness. I was sure the call had come from a coyote, but my friend disagreed, saying it was too long and melancholy, more like that of a wolf. Fear and fascination warred within us as we walked, the same human ambivalence that erupts every time a wolf reintroduction program is proposed in the United States, even one as seemingly passive as the Oregon Fish and Wildlife Commission’s recent decision not to stop wolves from migrating into Eastern Oregon from Idaho. Fearing attacks on their livestock, ranchers are fearful and angry. Protectionists, meanwhile, see the program as a way to bring a historic predator back into the state. Most of the time wolves will likely hunt the game they have traditionally hunted in the lower 48 — wild deer, elk, marmots, grouse, geese, rabbits, mice and occasionally salmon. Yet they are opportunists known to kill livestock as well. Both sides in the debate know that wolves are brutally efficient killers. With twice the crushing power of a German shepherd, their bite can break through almost any bone to get at its marrow. On the hunt, they harass fleeing prey by striking at the legs, haunches and stomach until the animal is so weakened it collapses. Written accounts of wolf killings of humans in the continental United States are almost nonexistent, but there is a strong oral tradition of such killings among Eskimos in the far north. Nevertheless, they respect the animals for their superior hunting skills and emulate wolf techniques in their own hunting practices. Despite this admiration by native peoples, no predator in the United States has been more vilified than the wolf. Beginning shortly after European settlement on the East Coast, wolves were killed mercilessly with guns, strychnine and traps, until the species was almost wiped out in the lower 48. In his recently reprinted 1978 book, "Of Wolves and Men," Oregon writer Barry Lopez theorizes that this attitude is partly a result of the shift from hunting to an agricultural economy. In the beginning, humans and wolves evolved congruently as social hunters, he postulates, pursuing essentially the same game species, a competitive existence of constant killing for food, which our glimmering human consciousness needed to appease through ritual. Native peoples had such rituals, but not later European settlers. As a result, wolves were seen as remnants of our darkest nature, the killing side we no longer wanted to acknowledge, Lopez argues. The Oregon Fish and Wildlife Commission waited months to put its wolf management plan into effect, hoping the state Legislature would enact a measure giving ranchers the right to kill any wolves preying on their livestock. The agency also hoped the state would provide compensation for wildlife losses from wolf predation. The Legislature failed to address either issue, making the restoration program far more likely to fail if any cattle or sheep are killed. In New Mexico that chilly September night, when my friend and I at last reached the road, we stood a long time by our car, waiting and looking at the stars, hoping to hear that mournful call one more time. I knew no wolves had been reintroduced into the Jemez Mountains, but in that moment, it seemed possible they had re-emerged dreamlike from some fading ancestral memory. In that lengthening silence, a profound loss swept over me, a tiny remnant, perhaps, of that ancient bond between two consummate hunters — one a wild canine firmly rooted in nature whose domain is sadly diminished, and the other an intelligent primate who became dominant only by sacrificing his once-deep connection to nature. As my friend and I drove down the mountain that night, I could not say which species had suffered the greater loss. Source: http://www.mailtribune.com/archive/2006/0113/life/stories/03life.htm Other Links of Note: http://www.defenders.org/wildlife/wolf/alaska.html http://www.wolfcountry.net/ http://conservationgiscenter.org/maps/html/wolves.htmlhttp://www.serconline.org/wolfpreservation/