Owls Aren't Wise and Bats Aren't Blind (34 page)

Conferring predatorial sainthood on the wolf isn’t much more edifying than casting the animal in the role of unredeemed devil. The truth is simply that wolves are wolves and should be viewed on their own terms as one of the most efficient predators of large North American mammals. As such, they evolved as part of an ecosystem that predated humans on this continent. Ascribing all manner of human qualities to them—good or bad—is no help in understanding their place in nature’s scheme, both historically and today.

Wolves are widely thought of as endangered. They aren’t—at least as a species—although they’re listed as endangered in the lower forty-eight states. (Minnesota wolves, with an estimated population of 2,500, are listed as threatened, while two reintroduced populations in the West are considered “experimental populations” under the Endangered Species Act.) Despite this endangered status in most of the United States, there are over fifty thousand wolves in Canada and over seven thousand in Alaska, so the total number of timber wolves in North America is approximately sixty thousand. Now that wolves are no longer relentlessly killed, the biggest threat to their long-term survival is habitat loss.

Canis lupus
is Latin for “wolf dog” (
canis,
dog, and
lupus,
wolf), and we say that wolves belong to the dog family. Actually, this is backward; dogs are members of the wolf family. Domestic dogs have without question descended from wolves, although the timing and mechanism for this descent is not well understood.

Until recently, it was pretty much taken for granted that roughly fifteen thousand years ago, our Stone Age ancestors domesticated a few wolves, thereby creating the dog. One theory is that they might have raised wolf pups and tamed them. A second theory holds that some wolves, less fearful than the rest, hung around human encampments or villages, looking for easy pickings. From that beginning, these wolves gradually became tamer and tamer, increasing their tolerance of humans by breeding among themselves until at last they essentially brought about their own domestication. At that point, humans were able to complete the process, perhaps viewing these primitive dogs as partners in their own hunts.

Then, in 1997, University of California biologists announced their belief that dogs and wolves probably parted company more than 100,000 years ago. Their findings, based on DNA analysis of many breeds of domestic dogs, as well as of wolves and wild canids worldwide, are, rather predictably, highly controversial among scientists. No doubt it will take years more of study to sort out these theories and reach agreement on the most plausible one.

This interesting debate aside, no one disputes that domestic dogs descended from wolves at one time or another. Although it seems difficult to believe, all domestic dogs, from tiny Chihuahuas to huge Great Danes and Saint Bernards, owe their ancestry to wolves. Although these and most other varieties of domestic dogs bear only the most passing resemblance to their wild forefathers, there are still breeds, such as malamutes and German shepherds, that look very much like wolves.

Often called the gray wolf, timber wolves are commonly thought of as almost always being gray, and the majority of them are, but in the more northerly latitudes encompassed by Canada and Alaska, black wolves are common, and on Arctic islands wolves are white. All shades in between these colors, as well as blends of shades, are also found. It would be a mistake to think of “gray wolves” as exclusively gray.

How big are wolves? The largest ones, found in parts of Canada, Alaska, and Russia, may occasionally reach 175 pounds. However, most of the large northern timber wolves are much more likely to be in the range of seventy to 120 pounds. Farther south, wolves become progressively smaller, evidently obeying the same biological imperative that governs their prey species (see page 227). Female wolves are also about 20 percent smaller than males. Although a wolf of, say, ninety pounds may not sound like a very large animal, bear in mind that these are exceedingly lean, powerful animals!

Wolves are highly social animals, and the principal and all-important unit of wolf society is the pack. A pack is headed by a breeding pair, called the alpha male and alpha female; these terms come from
alpha,
the first letter of the Greek alphabet, and the alpha male and female are first—the leaders— among the pack members. The remainder of the pack consists of their offspring from two or more years and occasional older, nonbreeding relatives. Thus the pack is really an enlarged or extended family unit.

How large is a wolf pack? Packs in the North, where prey is larger, tend to be bigger than packs farther south, where prey is usually smaller, but this isn’t always true. In general, wolf packs contain six to ten animals, but packs of twenty or more aren’t rare and can number as high as about thirty. Still, it would be erroneous to think of wolf packs primarily in terms of these very large packs, which are definitely the exception.

There is a strict hierarchy within the pack. The alpha pair is indeed at the top, with every other wolf in a descending order from them. More or less jointly, the alpha male and female rule the pack. They lead the pack on hunts, are at the forefront of most kills, and feed first—or at least on the choicest parts—after the kill. They also bear the primary responsibility for raising the pups, aided by the subordinate members of the pack.

Below the alpha pair come the others at various levels in the hierarchy of the pack. At the very bottom are the omega wolves, so named from
omega,
the last letter in the Greek alphabet. Although life is often harsh and difficult for all wolves, it’s doubly so for an omega wolf. That unhappy individual is sometimes so abused by all the other higher-ranking wolves that it’s driven right out of the pack!

Wolves communicate in a wide variety of ways, of which howling is by far the best known and most impressive, and is the one for which wolves are properly noted. It’s a special sound, for it contains something so wild and primitive that it evokes equally primitive responses in humans, such as hair rising on the back of the neck.

Wolves howl for a variety of reasons. One of these is to locate one another, for members of a wolf pack may inhabit huge territories in areas where big game is scarce and widely dispersed. Under such conditions, pack members may become widely separated, and howling helps to reassemble the pack.

Scientists have also observed that wolves howl as a group when excited or disturbed, particularly when they hear the howling of another pack. At such times, group howling may serve as a territorial safeguard—a warning to the other wolves that the territory is occupied and they enter it only at their peril. At other times, group howling seems to be a social activity accompanied by dominance displays by various pack members. On still other occasions, this sort of communal howling simply appears to be an enjoyable social activity, sometimes likened to a community sing.

Wolves are widely depicted as howling at the moon. However, despite the lines from Shakespeare’s
Much Ado About Nothing,
“Now the hungry lion roars, / And the wolf behowls the moon,” that’s pure myth. Perhaps this old chestnut started when someone saw wolves pointing their noses skyward to howl on a moonlight night. No matter how many reasons wolves may have for howling, the moon most emphatically isn’t one of them!

Wolves aren’t limited to howling, though; like their dog descendents, they also make a variety of other sounds, including growling, snarling, barking, whining, and whimpering.

Though howling and other vocalizations are the most obvious means of wolf communication, they’re far from the only ones. Scent marking by urination and defecation constitutes the second important method of territorial delineation. Urination, in particular, marks the pack’s boundaries, and here the alpha male, and sometimes the alpha female, engage in the sort of raised-leg urination so familiar among domestic dogs. Presumably this raised-leg urination places urine at a higher level, so that the scent will disperse more widely.

For social communication within the pack, facial expressions, body language, and tail position all have meanings. For instance, the alpha male and female hold their tails straight out, while subordinate wolves have drooping tails. Dominant wolves use threat displays such as growling, baring their teeth, and raising their hackles. A submissive wolf, on the other hand, may whine, tuck its tail between its legs, or roll onto its back. This sort of communication helps to keep a social order in the pack, and probably prevents a great deal of outright fighting.

Wolves are extremely territorial and will fight fiercely to defend their territory against other wolves. Indeed, it isn’t uncommon for wolves to be killed in these territorial battles. This is especially true in the case of lone interlopers, who may be pursued and killed by the whole pack. In some areas these territorial defenses even constitute a major source of wolf mortality.

Much of a pack’s time is spent in hunting, for wolves are almost totally carnivorous. Although they catch smaller creatures, such as ptarmigan, hares, and mice, wolves rely principally on big game for sustenance. Large animals such as deer, elk, caribou, and musk oxen are essential to the wolf’s survival: the pack can’t catch and kill enough small game to feed itself for any length of time, so the large quantities of meat provided by big mammals are a necessity.

Farley Mowat’s book
Never Cry Wolf,
and the movie and video versions of it, have duped untold numbers of people into believing that wolves subsist mainly on mice during the summer. I was, I confess, among the “dupees.” I first read the book when I was in college and was greatly impressed by it. Mowat is a most entertaining writer, and I accepted the book as fact. Only later did I learn that the book, which defends—indeed, glorifies—the wolf is fictional.

L. David Mech, probably our leading authority on wolves in North America and a scientist who has done an enormous amount to educate the public about this widely misunderstood predator, put it rather succinctly. After noting that no scientist, Mowat notwithstanding, has ever found a population of wolves that regularly subsists on small prey, he states, “However, Mowat is not a scientist, and his book, although presented as truth, is fiction.”

A wolf attack on big game is often not a pretty spectacle, despite the illusion that many people hold of the wolf as a swift, silent killer. Although small prey and some large animals—especially their young—are brought down and killed rapidly, the death of many others is a time-consuming and terrifying affair for the prey. It’s also difficult and dangerous for the wolves themselves, and biologists estimate that less than 10 percent of wolf attacks on large mammals are successful.

Wolves test different animals until one of the alpha wolves senses weakness on the part of a particular specimen. If the prey, particularly a moose, stands its ground, the wolves will leave it. Large animals that are strong, healthy, and stationary present a serious danger to wolves. A slashing hoof can break ribs or crush a skull, and a sharp antler or horn can gore or impale. The attack isn’t worth the risk.

Prey that flees is a different matter. The wolf pack pursues, trying to gauge the strength of the animal. If it fails to gain on the animal within a few minutes, the pack usually abandons the chase. If the wolves are able to close on their prey, however, they begin nipping at heels and flanks to avoid fatal blows from front hooves, antlers, or horns. Eventually the animal tires, and more and more bites are inflicted. Finally one of the wolves, usually the alpha male, runs forward and seizes the prey by the nose. Aided by this distraction, the other wolves rush in, attack flanks and throat, and finish the now-helpless animal.

What follows is no sedate, mannerly Sunday-school picnic. As might be expected, the alpha pair usually get the internal organs, which are the richest, choicest morsels. Otherwise, however, pack members growl, jostle, snarl, and otherwise compete for this rich lode of meat. Finally, even the subordinate wolves have their chance, until all have eaten their fill. At such times of plenty, wolves gorge themselves, putting away ten to twenty pounds of meat at a sitting before collapsing for a well-earned rest. Wolves will also cache excess food from a large kill by burying some of the meat, laying food away against a time of poor hunting.

It’s true that wolves prey mainly on the weak, sick, and old, since they are the easiest to catch and kill. Over long periods, this behavior benefits the prey species via the immutable law of survival of the fittest. Wolves, however, like most predators, are very opportunistic and kill strong, healthy animals whenever conditions are right. They also kill many young animals that, regardless of their inherent genetic quality, simply aren’t yet old enough or fast enough to elude them. Thus the notion that wolves kill only the old, weak, sick, and unfit, often advanced by those who either don’t understand wolves or are trying to glorify them unduly, is a substantial distortion of the truth.

Breeding season takes place in late winter or early spring, depending on the latitude. As might be expected, breeding takes place earlier in more southerly latitudes, and later in the harsher climate of more northerly reaches. Most breeding is done by the alpha male and female. This pair often mates for life, though it’s by no means a universal practice. Alpha males are known to breed the alpha female plus a subordinate female, and occasionally to switch mates. Further, if something happens to its mate, the surviving alpha wolf will find another mate. Sentimental twaddle about wolves grieving for a lost mate and thereafter remaining celibate can be dispensed with.

Breeding of a second, subordinate female usually occurs when prey is exceptionally abundant. Even with plenty of prey, however, the pups borne by the subordinate female often don’t survive.

Although wolves usually sleep in the open, the female has her litter in a den. There are usually five or six pups, which weigh a pound apiece and are both blind and deaf at first. The warmth of the mother is vital for the pups during their first three weeks, so she’s mostly confined to the den during that period, and is fed by the alpha male and other pack members, who consume food elsewhere and regurgitate it for her.