Elli H. Radinger - Wisdom of Wolves.

Elli H. Radinger

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THE WISDOM OF WOLVES

How they think, plan and look after each other amazing facts about the animal that is more like man than any other

Translated by Shaun Whiteside

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Michael Joseph is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com

First published in Germany by Ludwig Verlag 2017

Published in the United Kingdom by Michael Joseph 2019

Copyright Ludwig Verlag, a division of Random House Germany, 2017

Translation copyright Shaun Whiteside, 2019

The moral right of the author has been asserted

We assume no liability for the content of any third-party websites listed in this publication and do not adopt them as our own, but merely refer to them at the time of the first publication.

Cover photos Jim Brandenburg / Minden Pictures / Superstock and Shutterstock

ISBN: 978-0-241-34674-7

For Andrea alias Schnsel

Theres a first time for everything. For my special relationship with wolves there were three first times: the first wolf kiss, the first wild wolf and the first German wolf.

I had my first wolf kiss from Imbo, a six-year-old male timber wolf in an American wolf sanctuary. I had left behind my old life as an attorney-at-law in Frankfurt, Germany. Crimes, rent disputes and divorces were increasingly frustrating me. Instead of helping justice to victory with great vigour, I was coming to dread every legal meeting. I lacked the detachment and the abrasiveness to be a good lawyer. I wanted to fulfil my lifes dream, and combine my love of writing with the fascination I had for wolves.

Without any biological background, but with a great deal of passion and optimism, I applied for an ethology internship at Wolf Park, a wolf research institute in Indiana. At the preliminary interview the director of research, Dr Erich Klinghammer, explained that the alpha wolf of the main pack alone decides whether the trainee will be appointed.

But how do you apply to a wolf? Luckily I didnt need to dance or sing or perform any other tricks, but I swear I couldnt have been more excited if Id been applying for The X Factor although that was precisely the wrong emotion to show when meeting a captive wolf, Klinghammer said. You have to stay completely cool! Hell sense your excitement.

You try staying cool when youre facing a 50-kilo furry packet of muscles thats staring at you with yellow eyes. At that moment I thought of my German shepherd, friend and confidant of my childhood. Fine. Basically Imbo was just a big dog a very big dog. Two pages of safety instructions had prepared me for the meeting, and provided legal insurance for the director of the sanctuary. I signed a waiver with the frightening wording: I understand that there is a risk of injury, and that the injuries can be serious.

Armed with this warning, I entered the wolf enclosure with two keepers, tried to stand firm and took a deep breath. Then my world was reduced to the wolf that approached me at an elegant trot. The silver stripes of his coat gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. His black nose sniffed my scent deeply, his ears pointing alertly forward. From the corners of my eyes I saw the other members of Imbos pack waiting by the fence. They were clearly tense as they waited to see if I would pass the test and the boss would accept me. So was I, because it was only then that I would be able to start my internship. Right now the most important thing was to survive the next few seconds.

The film in my head slowed right down. The wolfs powerful hindquarters lowered slightly as he prepared to jump. As he flew towards me and I pressed against him with all my strength, there was no turning back. His paws, the size of side plates, landed on my shoulders, and his imposing fangs were only a centimetre from my face. The world stopped. Then he licked my face with his rough tongue. That kiss was my introduction to the drug wolf.

After Imbo had accepted me, my internship with the wolves of Wolf Park began. I learned everything about the attitude and behaviour of captive wolves, I hand-raised wolf pups with a bottle and over the following months enjoyed countless wet kisses from Imbo and the rest of the pack.

Half a year later, when I moved to the wilderness of Minnesota, I had received an excellent training and thought I knew everything about wolves. Then I met my first wild wolf.

The log cabin in which I lived was far from civilization near a lake in the middle of wolf and bear territory. Early on New Years Day I pulled on my snowshoes in minus 30 degrees Celsius to go off in search of wolf tracks. So far I hadnt had a glimpse of my grey neighbours; only their howls told me that they were there. But the previous night, when I stood for a long time outside the cabin, listening to the chorus of wolves, gazing fascinated at the polar lights, a movement on the lake had distracted me from the celestial spectacle. Four wolves had run across the shimmering surface of the ice and were chasing something before they disappeared over the horizon. I couldnt make out what they were pursuing.

I set off the next morning to try to find them. I carefully followed their tracks into the forest. They led into the dense woodland, over sticks and stones, through bushes, past cliffs and boulders and across vast snow-covered surfaces. I sometimes came across a circular depression, presumably the resting spot of a deer. Abundant yellow markings in the snow showed that the wolves had discovered the same place as well. After an hour of tracking I found fresh traces of blood and a short time later found a dead young white-tailed deer. I knelt down and touched it. Its belly had been torn open and one back leg was missing. The stomach lay off to the side, the heart and liver were gone. Bite wounds on the throat and legs indicated that the animal hadnt suffered for long.

There was no sign of the wolves anywhere, but suddenly I felt as if I was being watched. I was still kneeling in the snow. Not a good position if a hungry wolf is standing behind you. I got to my feet in slow motion and turned round. There he stood, only a few metres away. A grey wolf. The hairs on the back of his neck bristling as if he had walked through an electric field, his ears pricked, he tilted his head slightly to one side and watched me closely. His nostrils vibrated as he tried to pick up my scent, but the wind was coming from the other direction. I could tell by looking at him that this young animal had no idea who or what I was. I held my breath. Of course wild wolves dont attack humans, but did this wolf know that? He was hungry, and I was standing between him and the food he had fought hard for.

Hi, wolf! Was that my voice croaking?

The animal flinched and jumped back. At the same time he tucked his half-raised tail under his belly. Curiosity had turned to fear. He turned a half-pirouette on his hindquarters and shot into the forest. Fascinated, I stared for a long time at the trees he had disappeared behind.