Europe > United Kingdom > South East England > Newbury > Articles > Walking with Wolves

There is a certain etiquette to be observed when one meets a wolf for the first time. A casual pat on the head, that might satisfy a dog, simply won’t do. Instead you must roll up your sleeve, bunch your fist and stretch your arm out. Then let the wolf come to you and get your scent - if it wishes. It’s the lupine equivalent of meeting the Queen: you speak only if spoken to first. Oh, and don’t stare at them, wear strong perfumes, or forget the dress code - which bans alarming bright colours, umbrellas and flapping straps.

I discovered all this on a Walking with Wolves afternoon organised by the UK Wolf Conservation Trust. These are regularly held at weekends and make for a family day out with a definite tingle factor. The walks take place in Pennsylvania woods, near the Trust’s headquarters in Berkshire, and are open to anyone who buys a special ‘walking membership’ – though children have to be over 12.

We join the other walkers at the meeting point in the woods, arriving at the same time as the wolves - two female North American Timber wolves, Duma and Dakota. They’re long legged, elegant and silvery – and straining at the ends of their chains. “They want to go,” says Sue, a volunteer guide, “so we’ll introduce you to them quickly and then set off.” We line up, arms outstretched, and the wolves approach and sniff us – establishing us as members of that afternoon’s pack. “Okay,” says Sue, “let’s go. Allow the wolves to set the pace and don’t get ahead of them.”

They set off pretty smartly - but stop to pee and scratch the ground so frequently, like urban dogs sprinkling lamp posts, that no one has trouble keeping up, even though we range in age from early teens to late seventies.

The last wild wolf in Britain was shot in Scotland in 1745, and their numbers are decreasing all over the world. The UK Wolf Trust, established in 1995 by the late Roger Palmer, has 9 wolves – both North American and European – and walks like this go some way towards dispelling the myths that have grown up around this most persecuted of creatures. Social, sensitive and complex, they’re far from the vicious animals caricatured in fairy tales. “The wolves work on body language,” explains Sandra, another volunteer, as we walk. “And they can sense things in people that aren’t immediately obvious to the rest of us. We recently had a very withdrawn, traumatised young lad brought here. It was extremely hard to get through to him, but when he went to greet the wolves Duma – most unusually - licked his face. He immediately broke into a big smile. His social worker said it was the first time he’d smiled since he’d seen his mother killed.”

Being so close to these powerful, undomesticated animals brings the woods alive in a way that doesn’t happen when walking a family pooch. They’re alert to every drifting scent and tumbling leaf. After they’ve settled down, we stop and get the chance to meet them close up. I follow instructions, let Duma see me approach, then hold out one fist. She sniffs, then turns her head away. “That’s it, she’s got your scent,” says Colin, her handler. “Now don’t pat her head or back – they’re signs of dominance. Rub her tummy instead.” It seems strangely intimate to do this to a strange animal, but she doesn’t flinch. “Harder than that,” Colin advises, as I rub her gently. “She doesn’t like being tickled.” I rub her more firmly and feel the strength within her lithe body – she’s got a six-pack to be proud of, quite unlike the soft, usually flabby, belly of most pet dogs.

Wolves, Sue tells us later, have average eyesight but excellent hearing. They can hear sounds 10 miles away in open terrain. Their sense of smell is also astonishingly acute, with alpha wolves exuding more scent than junior members of the pack. “The wolves almost knew Roger Palmer was ill before he did,” she said. “They’d always accepted him as their leader, but suddenly their behaviour changed. He felt that something was wrong and went to the doctor about the headaches he’d been getting. He was diagnosed with a brain tumour and later died.”

Walking with the wolves give some fascinating insights into the behaviour of domestic dogs. At one point they stop on the track to munch a dollop of horse manure – a canine habit that mystifies many dog owners. “They get some nutrition from the manure,” explains Colin, “ but they can also tell whether there’s anything wrong with the animal. In the wild it helps them single out weak prey for hunting.” When the walk’s over, we all go back to the Centre. After tea and biscuits we’re shown round, then take three young cubs for an energetic stroll around one of the fields. As they leave the enclosure, the adults left behind throw back their heads and howl. It’s an eerie, magical, musical cry – hard to imagine that it once would have echoed throughout all the forests of Britain.

Articles

• More from Rebecca Ford