We still managed to be early for the tour. The entrance had a small sign I would have missed without my husband's excellent eye. There was a wide, tall, electrified and automatic gate outfitted with an elaborate keypad. This gate was flanked by an equally intimidating fence. It was right off of the first side road from the highway. I would have driven right by and just assumed it was a "no trespassing" type of place and not given it any more thought.
We waited for someone to come and let the one car in front of us (and us) inside. More and more cars came, and we all got in a line after signing in and being let through the gate. We then formed a caravan behind the tour guide's vehicle. We drove farther and farther back. It was all trees and greenery. There was a distinct lack of people. The only thing proving anyone had ever been there was a paved road that turned into a dirt road.
The actual wolf sanctuary is located in a small area within the Washington University's Tyson Research Center. The university has 2,000 acres of seclusion and forest. We parked along the dirt road and went into a bunker that had been used for ammunition during World War II. There were a lot of WWII buildings throughout the research center, but most were now hidden by grasses and trees. The bunker we went into had been transformed into an educational center and a gift shop. We learned a little about wolves in general and then about all the endangered wolves on the property. After that, we headed out on our walking tour of the enclosures.
There were a lot of people. If I had to wager a guess I'd say 35-40 at least. The husband was great at sticking with me and booking it when I got all determined to walk close to the front of the group (which was most of the time). With so many people, it was often hard to get up close enough for a good view. I also liked to hear what the guides were saying, but we had to be right next to them in order to hear anything. There were some smaller children and a bit of noise (although it probably would have been just as noisy without them due to the sheer number of people).
One college-aged girl was on her cell the entire time. She also was wearing a somewhat dressy dress. I don't know what to say about that. Even I wore sunscreen (70 SPF!) and bug repellent. It's been over 100 degrees for what feels like weeks and that day's prediction was low 90s. It was a break but still obviously a hot summer day. Every step it took to get to taking the tour, from learning about the existence of the sanctuary in the first place to making reservations to visit, lends itself to the knowledge that this is an outdoor, walking-in-nature type of experience. If even I know this, there is no way anyone can be surprised. If I think there is any chance I can wear the least hike-y outfit I can, then I go with that. Today was comfortable sandals, a white tee, and a modest light khaki skirt. Even I will admit it wasn't pretty. I don't really know who forced this girl to come but it was kind of sad.
Most of the visitors were pretty appropriate and respectful. Because so many of the animals were skittish, we were asked to be as quiet as possible so as to not scare them off. They wanted us to have as much of a chance as possible to see as many of the animals as possible.
My good hubby just kept holding my hand with his non-camera hand and kept up as I rushed to be in the front section of the group. I love that he still holds my hand.
The first animal we saw was the Swift Fox. As large as a small house cat and nocturnal, we were informed that it was a treat for us to see one since few tours ever get a glance. He was so little, and it was difficult to keep an eye on him through the double chain link fence. Still, we were able to spend several key minutes watching the little critter.
It didn't help that there were several raccoons who had MacGyvered their way into the pen to steal the fox food. They made a quick, clumsy, and dramatic escape. One actually had an epic fail as he misjudged distance when performing his Cirque Soleil move from the tree to the outer top of the fence. He fell all the way to the ground, landing on his back, the thud louder than everyone's murmurs and conversations about the raccoons. He was fine, though. They all ran off without injury or issue.
The next enclosure housed 8 Grey Mexican Wolves. This is where something started happening to me that I cannot put it words. I love animals but this was something different. There was something majestic and stunning about these wolves when I saw them. It took my breath away.
These 8 wolves were siblings. They were very active in their cage and would soon be going elsewhere for more wolf conservation and breeding efforts. The National Fish and Wildlife Service (or some similarly named government entity - I was listening but there were wolves... and feelings... and wolves. Forgive me!) oversees all things wolves. It keeps records and determines what wolves go where, who breeds with who, monitors each one in the wild by microchip, and so on. Not just at this center but everywhere. They have sort of an all-encompassing view over it all and make judgements based on the whole. It makes sense if there are only 14 wolves of this species or that species that are pure and desirable for breeding. They're trying to not only increase the population but also keep the bloodlines strong. I do not envy them and their responsibilities.
The hubby got excellent pictures considering how difficult it was to shoot through all these fences. In person, it was a little easier to see. They were so gorgeous. Granted, with the awful heatwave, they had shed their coats and were much smaller than they will appear to be in the winter, but they were still large and beautiful animals.
They came right up the fence and rubbed on it. They were not doing it to show affection but to let us know that this was their territory. The center has been around since 1971 and has a very specific approach to saving these endangered creatures. Their goal is to increase their populations and to selectively breed and then release as many wolves as possible back into the wild (as determined by aforementioned government agency). There is no warm wolf/human interaction. The goal at the center is not to gain the trust or affection of the wolves. They do not want the wolves to lose their fear of humans. At the same time, it is blatantly obvious that everything the people at the center are doing is for the best for the wolves and that every thought and action comes from a pure, respectful, and loving place.
After seeing the 8, we walked up a steep hill to another enclosure. There were 2 more Mexican Grays. Rocky was the male and had been through a lot. His story is on their website at Rocky's Story and he was almost completely blind. He will never be released into the wild but has a good life at the sanctuary. He and his companion stayed far away from our large group.
I don't know how my husband even got the picture of him (on the left) and his female friend (on the right). The enclosures were very large. They were not created for people to view wolves. They were created for wolves period. The atmosphere of the sanctuary, from the inside of the bunker that housed the gift shop to the gravel road we walked on next to the enclosures, definitely made me feel like there just wasn't any other viable option. It was for the peace of mind and the needs of the wolves, to put the least amount of stress on them as possible. This is why when we couldn't see very much in the following 2 enclosures, I didn't feel upset at that one bit.
In the next enclosure was the red wolf, but she hid well and we were told this was expected of her. Her story can be found at Inapa's Story and it shows the resilience of these animals. Her name not only has it's own meaning but can also be interpreted by sound since Inapa had an injury where she lost (and then "needed") a paw.
After that, we came to the Wild African Dog enclosures. They were asleep in lumps and were really hard to see with the sun, the fences, and their coats hiding them in the taller grass. Behind their enclosure was the one housing the female grey wolf with her 5 puppies. We saw them moving and kind of could pick them out but it was a definitely a stretch. They put her in that enclosure so that she would feel the safest that she could as she raised her cubs. They didn't want tours walking right by and making her feel like she needed to protect and defend her babies.
The hubby stood in front of the Wild African Dog enclosures in this photo.
The last 2 enclosures had several more Mexican Greys. This one ran along the fence as well. I kept saying hi to it and waving at it. This is one of the few shots without my fingers covering the left side of the picture. He wasn't afraid of me but when a woman a few feet down placed her hands on the rail in front of her, he jumped up about a foot. Just the movement scared him.
Next to this enclosure, a new pack of very wild wolves was running. We were told it was also very rare for a tour to see them at all, since they are the most wary of all the wolves at the sanctuary. It was an incredible experience.
Um... There was also a wall of contributors. Betty White was on there. But, my favorite had to be the following. I like how the tile not only complements her in relation to her profession but also to her actual self. Way to go, Sabrina. I may not know you but now I know you're great. So that's good. I can put that great mystery to rest. I lose a lot of sleep wondering if Melissa Joan Hart is a... witch. Which she was. On television. But not in life. She's great in life. It says so right there.
I'm only teasing there. It just cracked me up. Honestly, I think it's great she's been a part of this. I just find it kind of funny the way that is worded and how it's a little tribute to her. But if I ever win the lottery (which is even more of a long shot then you're thinking, since I don't play the lottery), I solemnly swear that I will give a big old chunk of money to the Endangered Wolf Sanctuary and that my wolf engraving will say something like "Happy Wife: A Decent Blogger And A Pretty Okay (Most Of The Time) Person".
Until I find that leprechaun (I'm branching out now, pretty soon there will be so many ways in which we can become rich that it'll have to happen sometime, right?), we went home and went online to become general members to support the center financially in our own little way. No tile for us, but that is what we could manage. I also want to find a painting (or more realistically a print of a painting) of a wolf to hang somewhere in our home. I want to remember that day. I want to be able to see something that reminds me of the way I felt. So far, I've looked a little online and have found only one we're considering, but even the print is a bit out of our budget. Once we do have something like that in our home, and with the addition of time, maybe I'll be able to process all of this into words that will do this experience the justice it deserves.
Going into the date, I didn't know what to expect. It wasn't a jovial, light hearted experience. It wasn't Duran Duran. But, it wasn't sad or entirely upsetting either. It was heavy, and deep. I'm an animal lover, which isn't a secret, but this was above and beyond what I normally feel around and about animals. There was something about that place and those animals. Some that aren't even found in the wild anymore. It really affected me. I didn't want to cuddle them (okay, if they wanted to be cuddled, that would be a lie). It was so much more than enough to simply see them and to learn about them. Their stories and history and struggle to continue surviving (existing!) were jarring. It's really hard to combine all the things they are - precious, predators, beautiful, graceful, ghost-like. They're almost myth. Yet, I see my Mav in part of them, the dog I love that sleeps against my feet and shares our home and life. Something so tangible that can't quite be touched. I left wanting only good things for them, some sort of hopeful spark starting to burn inside of me. Along with a desire to recapture the feeling I had when seeing them as they ran. To never let myself forget that feeling. And to do what I can, even in my small way, to help them.
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