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Fall of the wild

Fall of the wild

What’s to be done with the wolves of the Ninemile Valley?

by Ari LeVaux in the Missoula Independent
5/2/02

Spring is a tough time for the wolves of the northern Rockies to behave
themselves. Their prey are getting strong and fast from munching green
shoots all day, soon there will be pups to feed, and all those slow, fuzzy
animals in people’s yards just gave birth to soft and juicy babies. Not
surprisingly, spring is the time of year when wolves exact their heaviest
toll on livestock herds, and this year is no exception. In response,
federal wolf managers have resorted to “lethal control” tactics to keep
the wolves at bay.

In early April, the entire Whitehawk pack in central Idaho was slain.
Closer to home, at least four wolves have been killed in the Ninemile
Valley in response to the deaths of llamas, sheep, dogs, and other
domesticated animals. For many Ninemile residents, the issue won’t be
settled until the entire pack is eliminated. But as wolf lovers in the
Ninemile and around the world push for ways for the two species to
coexist, all sides are begging the question: “Is there enough room in this
valley for humans and wolves?”

* A love/hate relationship

The relationship between humans and wolves predates recorded history.
Myths and stories that feed our collective unconscious tell of the lethal
guile of wolves, while others tell of wolves who raise human orphans in
the pack, such as Romulus and Remus, the mythical founders of Rome.
Whether or not we acknowledge the maternal, nurturing side of the wolf,
none can refute that the wolf is the genetic ancestor of man’s best
friend, and much of what we love in dogs comes from the wolf.

When we speak of the wolf, we are speaking about an animal that has more
often rivaled our place at the top of the food chain than any other in
history. Because of this ancient relationship, humans learned much about
survival by watching the wolf. The Skidi Pawnee of the Plains, for
example, were among the wolf’s finest students, thus the hand sign for
“Pawnee” in Plains sign language is the same as for “wolf.”

But the Pawnee faded as European settlers pushed west across North
America, slaughtering buffalo and replacing the herds with livestock. The
settlers brought with them the cultural baggage of the Middle Ages, from
Little Red Riding Hood to the execution of suspected werewolves. A fierce
and wild intelligence, the wolf symbolized everything the settlers prided
themselves in taming, and was demonized.

In response to the loss of bison herds, wolves sometimes turned to
livestock for prey. The resulting conflict was aggressively settled in
favor of human interests. Wolves were labeled vermin and shot, trapped,
and poisoned by ranchers, government trappers, and sport hunters. When
captured alive, sometimes their jaws were torn out, their Achilles tendons
cut, and dogs turned loose on them. Sometimes wolves were set on fire.

As the wolves died, another predator, the coyote, took its place, its
range growing from a north-south strip in the central plains to include
the entire lower 48 states. Now war is being waged against the coyote as
well, to the tune of some 300,000 coyotes slaughtered every year, much the
way the wolf was hunted. But without wolves to fill that predator niche,
coyote numbers remain on the rise.

By 1973, when the Endangered Species Act (ESA) was passed, wolves had
already been eliminated from the lower 48, except for an isolated few in
the northern Midwest. But wolves remained in Canada. From time to time,
these Canuk wolves would roam below the 49th parallel, tempted by growing
prey populations. In the early 1980s wolves were being spotted in Glacier
National Park and by the early 1990s, they had reached as far south as the
Ninemile Valley.

The Ninemile wolves were so wolf-like in their re-colonization that nobody
knows for sure just how or when they got there. According to Rick Bass’s
book, The Ninemile Wolves, we know that the pack matriarch was captured
and collared near the town of Marion in 1989, after some sick calves were
attacked-most likely by coyotes. She was relocated to Nyack Creek, south
of Glacier National Park. From there she roamed all over the Flathead:
Hungry Horse to Bigfork, across the Swan, Mission, and Rattlesnake
mountains and down the Rattlesnake Valley, before finding her way to
Ninemile, where she met a matted gray male of unknown origins.

That winter the pair was spotted near Lolo Pass before returning to
Ninemile in the spring to den on private property. A litter of six pups
were born: three black and three gray. The pack of eight had a peaceful
spring in the meadow where their mother had renovated an old coyote den.
She stayed home with the pups, teaching them to hunt mice and
grasshoppers, and the father would bring home deer, elk, and moose. No
livestock were harmed, which means that the pups were not taught bad
habits, or given a taste for domesticated meat. They were not “problem”
wolves.

The mother’s collar was discovered floating in Ninemile Creek on July 4,
1990, cut from her neck by a knife. Her killer was never found (despite a
reward of up to $50,000, which is half the fine for killing a wolf under
the ESA, a penalty that also includes a year in prison). After the mother
died, the father had to raise the pups. On Labor Day, he was hit by a
truck while crossing Interstate 90.

This time the orphaned pups were cared for by humans, but with an
important twist: The pups were not taken into a human pack. The surrogate
parents hid themselves behind a self-imposed veil, while gloved hands
supplied the pups with roadkill, free of human scent. Mike Jimenez of the
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) did this on private property with the
consent of the property owners.

In 1995, FWS embarked on the biggest wolf-related science project ever,
capturing wolves in Canada and releasing them into Yellowstone National
Park and central Idaho. Because they were reintroduced, these wolves were
given the legal designation, “experimental non-essential,” while the
wolves in the northwest Montana recovery area, who colonized on their own,
receive full endangered species protection.

The differences between how these two populations have been managed are
hazy at best. And while wolf populations in Idaho and Yellowstone have
grown exponentially since 1995-the number of wolves in Idaho has increased
from 35 to 260-wolf populations in northwest Montana have held steady
since 1993, trending slightly upwards since 1998.

“The northwestern Montana wolves are supposed to receive the strongest ESA
protection of the lot, but more of these wolves have been killed by
federal agents than either of the other recovery areas,” says Joe Marvel
of the Western Watersheds Project (WWP) in Hailey, Idaho. The group is
considering a lawsuit against FWS over their handling of the Ninemile
wolves in what they say is a violation of the ESA.

As of January, there were 170 wolves in northwest Montana, if you believe
FWS numbers. In Ninemile, nobody agrees on how many wolves there are. Some
residents would bet the ranch that there are at least 20, though FWS says
there are no more than 13. In addition to the Ninemile wolves, there is a
new pack in Fish Creek near Alberton, and speculation of new breeding
pairs in Petty Creek and Six Mile as well.

In the last decade, the human population in Ninemile has nearly doubled,
from 396 to about 650. Meanwhile, the Ninemile wolves have made themselves
a part of the landscape. Some old timers don’t know who they hate more,
the wolves or the new residents from out of state who love them. But one
thing unites all Ninemile dwellers: the sound of howls through the valley
at night. Some have seen wolves scurrying across the edge of a field.
Others have seen wolves closer to home, sometimes attacking livestock or
dogs. When wolves encounter dogs, swift death for the dog is the rule, and
hybrid pups are a rare exception. Wolves hunt dogs for the same reason
they hunt coyotes: competition within the canine niche.

Ninemile resident John Schram had a dog named Athea, a 10-month-old black
lab. On a March afternoon, Athea caught the scent of a female wolf.
Barking, she chased the female wolf who slowly retreated across the field
towards the edge of the woods. When she entered the woods, Athea found
herself surrounded by the wolf pack, where she was torn to death.

Until recently, llamas were considered effective guardians against wolves.
When llamas were attacked last year, there had never been a llama killed
by a wolf in western Montana. For many ranchers, this new behavior is
unsettling.

But others are angered that wolves are being slain for the sake of “hobby
livestock,” such as llamas. “Llamas are from friggin’ South America,” says
Paul Donaldson of Missoula. “They are exotic. It’s like bringing a monkey
up here as a pet and then complaining when it freezes.”

* The wolf tax

According to U.S. Department of Agriculture figures, depredation in wolf
country accounts for 34 percent of sheep losses. Out of the total sheep
depredation, 69 percent were killed by coyotes, 9 percent by dogs, 6
percent by bears, 4 percent by mountain lions, 2 percent by foxes, 3
percent by unknown animals, and only 0.4 percent by wolves. The remaining
66 percent of sheep losses were due to disease, accidents, injuries, and
weather.

“Wolves won’t sink the livestock industry” says Suzanne Laverty of
Defenders of Wildlife in Boise. “Depredations are relatively rare, and our
concern is that individuals don’t bear the burden.” To this end, Defenders
of Wildlife has established a compensation program that reimburses
livestock owners at full market value for confirmed wolf kills. “It’s hard
to figure out why there is so much animosity towards wolves, when
economically it doesn’t add up,” she says. “Personal and community
problems get wrapped into the debate, and the wolf becomes the scapegoat.”

Laverty helped organize the North America Inter-Agency Wolf Conference
last week in Boise. This was an opportunity for scientists, livestock
owners, law enforcement, out-of-state wolf lovers, and other parties
interested in wolf management and recovery to get together and discuss the
issues. The conference could not have been more timely, from the recent
rash of lethal control and the worldwide outcry it provoked, to the
specter of de-listing Canis lupus from the endangered species list and the
host of lawsuits expected to follow.

Following the first llama attacks this spring, Ninemile residents reported
that the offending wolves were gray, black, and big. (Virtually all wolves
are gray or black, and all wolves look big.) Based on this vague
description, Wildlife Services-the federal agency that handles all lethal
wolf control-took to the air. While one team used the wolves’ own radio
tracking collars to locate the pack from a plane, a marksman took a
helicopter and shot two wolves, a black and a gray. “A lot of times we
don’t know which wolves did it, so we try to match descriptions,” says FWS
wolf recovery coordinator Ed Bangs. “It’s an educated guess.”

Still, the llama attacks continued, and then several sheep were attacked.
“We have had to kill whole packs before,” Bangs says. “I hate to see that
happen, but part of the deal was we wouldn’t let wolves prey on
livestock.” Wildlife Services staked out a llama carcass and shot at a
wolf returning to feed. The bullet missed, and the marksman got into a
helicopter and shot a wolf feeding on an elk carcass.

“This was the wrong thing to have happen. That wolf was doing precisely
what it should have been doing, feeding on the wild elk,” says Minette
Johnson of Defenders of Wildlife in Missoula. “And by killing the biggest
wolves, they are removing the wolves most able to get wild prey for the
pups, while leaving a female with pups and only a few adults to provide
for her. This makes it more likely that the remaining wolves are going to
prey on livestock.”

Some frustrated locals whose animals have been attacked contend that-in
keeping with basic canine psychology-the best time for punishing the
wolves is during the crime. Currently, it is a federal crime for
landowners to harass or chase wolves, even if the wolf is attacking their
livestock. To those residents, both the regulations and the process are
absurd. Instead of being allowed to defend their own herds, they have to
call Helena, cover the carcass, and wait for a Wildlife Services agent to
come out and determine the cause of death. They say they’re sick of
dealing with a distant bureaucracy with their hands tied, and they are
pissed off. Meanwhile, residents say the wolves of Ninemile are acting
less afraid of humans than ever.

* Strategic alternatives

If wolves and humans are to co-exist, then humans living in wolf country
need more options for protecting their lives against wolves. Some
environmentalists say that in places where just a few people are raising
large herds of livestock in prime wolf habitat, and affecting vast areas
of public land, it’s the people, not the wolves, who are the problem. But
in areas like Ninemile, so close to an urban center, the answers are not
so simple.

A wolf becomes a problem when it loses its fear of humans and develops a
taste for the pleasures of the human world-like cattle. In dealing with
problem wolves, the FWS Interim Wolf Control Plan for northwest Montana
states: “The Service usually uses the management technique that causes the
least impact to the wolf pack. Most often, control of problem wolves
begins with some type of non-lethal technique.”

But many observers of the Ninemile wolves complain that even though llamas
were killed last year, wildlife agents waited until this year’s killings
before addressing the problem at all. Others complain that when managers
finally did act, they skipped the non-lethal tactics and went straight for
the lethal control. Says Jon Marvel of WWP, “The wolf recovery program has
turned into a wolf-killing program.”

One program, called the Proactive Carnivore Conservation Fund, aims to
reduce human/wolf conflicts before they become a problem. The Fund pays
for non-lethal ways to reduce interactions between wolves and livestock.
They also educate people who live in wolf country about ways to protect
their livestock and avoid attracting wolves. Since 1999, annual spending
has averaged more than $40,000, paying for fencing, hay (to keep livestock
from grazing in wolf corridors), livestock-guarding dogs, land and grazing
allotment buyouts, audio and visual scare devices, and wages for hired
herdsman. Other techniques are being explored as well, including some that
have been used successfully in Europe for centuries. Defenders of Wildlife
strongly encourages residents of wolf country to call them for assistance.

Then again, many people in the Ninemile are content to live surrounded by
wolves. Thrilled, even. Deborah Slicer, a philosophy professor at the
University of Montana, spent seven years in Ninemile country and says, “I
did what was necessary to neighbor peacefully with the wolves while I was
up there.” Ninemile resident Dawn Snyder put it more bluntly: “Put your
animals away at night. Let’s have some tolerance and patience, and why
can’t we all just live here?”

* Showdown at Ninemile

Joe Fontaine, wolf recovery project leader for FWS, drove from Helena to
the Ninemile Community Center last Friday evening to give residents there
an update on the state of wolf affairs in their valley. In a room packed
with more than 100 local residents, Fontaine seems to know everyone by
name.

More often than not these days, federal wolf recovery agents are feeling
successful. With the northern Rockies wolf population now topping 550
wolves, many agents are saying that their job is almost complete. They
believe that the wolves have recovered, and are ready to be taken off the
endangered species list.

But plenty of people in the room detest the very word “recovery.” For
them, the only good wolf is a dead wolf. Consequently, Fontaine faces a
room of loaded, double-barreled stares. Someone suggests, “Maybe we just
need to get rid of the people who brought ’em here.”

This taunt brings resounding applause, echoing not only anger, but a
sentiment held by many in the room who don’t believe that the wolves naturally
re-colonized the Ninemile Valley, but were smuggled in by federal wildlife
agents. When Fontaine reports that “Even if we shot the whole pack,
another pack would re-colonize here in three to five years,” someone
retorts, “Yeah, sure, in the back of a truck.” One local landowner claims
that federal agents released a breeding pair on his land back in 1994.

Montana and Idaho both have draft management plans for how wolves will be
managed if and when they are delisted, a process that would take at least
three years. Fontaine emphasizes to the group that now is the time to
comment on the Montana Draft Management Plan. “It’s like that old
expression” he says. “If you don’t vote, don’t complain.” Although April
30 was the comment deadline for the current Draft Management Plan, the
next draft will be available for comment in July. (Call Montana Fish,
Wildlife, and Parks for more information.)

Fontaine also reminds the audience of the current proposal to change the
wolf’s status from “endangered” to “threatened” in Montana. Under this new
status, it would be legal for a landowner to scare wolves off their
property and shoot a wolf in the act of taking livestock. Fontaine also
speculates on possible state programs, long after he is factored out of
the Ninemile wolf equation. At the mere mention of the possibility of a
limited wolf hunt, the audience is temporarily spellbound.

A man in his 30s stands at the back of the room and says, “If you look at
the Montana Department of Livestock Web page it says that last year,
wolves were responsible for killing around 100 animals, while dogs took
around 2,000. So a dog is 20 more times likely to kill livestock than a
wolf, but I don’t see any people here tonight because dogs are killing
livestock.”

For a moment the room falls silent. Then the silence crumbles into a chaos
of voices, and Fontaine addresses the man in the back of the room: “Sir,
you got to understand that these folks are feeling frustrated because of
the lack of control on their own part, and not being able to take their
own direction on their own activities. Am I correct?”

“Correct!” answers the chorus. Clearly, Fontaine has touched a nerve.

“I don’t care if the wolves stay or go. I just want to be able to defend
my animals,” says Ninemile resident Geri Ball, whose llamas were attacked.
“Right now, if a wolf’s out there eating on my llama, I can’t even chase
it off!”

Indeed, it seems that if wolves are to remain skittish of humans, local
humans need to be empowered in their interactions with them-or sooner or
later they might empower themselves.

Some folks in the Ninemile are downright scared. They don’t feel like they
know what’s going on, and they feel trapped. Fear boils into anger, so
evident in the room that night, that one Ninemile resident declares,
“Wolves clear out everything in their path. Everyone knows that.”

* Sleeping with wolves

Wanting my own glimpse of what it’s like to be surrounded by wolves, to
better understand the fear in the Ninemile, I went to the spot where
Schram’s dog, Athea, was found, which is close to this year’s wolf den.

What I found was ample evidence of wolf kills: scattered fur, splintered
bones, and wolf scat, which contains more of the same. Under the light of
the full moon, I unrolled my sleeping bag where the wolves run and kill.
As the moon came and went behind the low, wet clouds, I reminded myself:
There has never been a confirmed case of a wolf attacking a human.

But I know better. That statement needs at least three asterisks. It
should read: There has never been a case documented by white people of a
healthy wolf attacking a human in North America. Rabid wolves have
infected Montanans. Likewise, Indians, Inuit and Europeans have reported
wolf attacks.

Still, far more people have died from choking on peanut butter sandwiches,
drowning in bathtubs, in hunting accidents and driving deer-infested
roads. Should we ban hunting, deer, bathtubs, and peanut butter
sandwiches?

Of course not. Nonetheless, I wanted to build a fire-to feel safe and keep
the dark unknown at bay. Perhaps fire is how the tables were turned in the
human struggle against nature. Wolves opted against fireside submission,
for complete freedom beyond the circle of light. You have to respect the
wolf for not surrendering its freedom, for not rolling over like a dog.
And as for the belief that wolves “clear everything in their path,” it’s
worth asking: How many species have gone extinct because of the wolf?

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