Why some people in B.C. live with wolves — even as advocates caution against it
The documentary Part of the Pack follows B.C.'ers with deep connections to wolves and wolfdogs
Gary Allan is unequivocal when asked to describe his wolf companion Tundra.
"Tundra was a gift from the creator. She was just an incredible animal," said the wolf advocate and educator from Nanaimo, B.C.
Allan and his wife Sally owned six part-dog, part-wolf hybrids over the last 20 years. He would often take Tundra, the most domesticated wolf, to schools as part of a program to teach students about the animals and how to protect their place in the province's ecosystem.
But their history with the creatures is complicated, to say the least. In 2021, another wolfdog of theirs named Mahikan, and her two pups attacked Sally Allan, seriously injuring her.
"Despite this incident ... our lives have been really enriched by having them," Gary Allan told The Current's Matt Galloway.
The couple put down the wolves involved in the attack. They kept Tundra, who was not involved; Tundra died in June 2022.
A new documentary, Part of the Pack, tells the story of the Allans, and several others who describe having close relationships with wolves — either in the wild, or by keeping wolfdogs as pets. It's screening at the Victoria Film Festival and the Available Light Film Festival (ALFF) in Whitehorse.
"A lot of us want to experience a true connection to nature, and something that's mysterious and out of our control, in a way," the film's co-director Isabelle Groc told Galloway.
"And so bringing a wolf closer to us is a way for us humans to, perhaps, connect to the deeper level and understand more about this wild world that we don't necessarily understand."
Not recommended as pets
Allan acquired Tundra, then three weeks old, from a breeder. Prospective owners must bond with a wolfdog early or they won't accept them as a human companion, he explained.
While the details vary from province to province or territory, it's illegal to breed and sell wolves in Canada. Some dogs are sold as wolfdog mixes, though in some cases their share of wolf DNA may be very small.
Tundra, Allan said, was about 90 per cent wolf, and behaved very differently from a common dog.
"We never considered her a pet, because she did what she wanted to do," said Allan. "If she wanted to have contact with you, she would come and have contact with you. If she didn't, she stayed by herself."
The B.C. Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) opposes the breeding, selling or keeping of wolfdogs as pets.
"Cross-breeding a wolf and dog counteracts 12,000 years of domestication," says a statement on the group's website. "They need a high level of care that is difficult to achieve and do not make good pets."
The Yamnuska Wolfdog Sanctuary near Cochrane, Alta., is currently home to 43 permanent resident wolfdogs. Many of them were given to the sanctuary by owners who may have bought one from a breeder and found themselves unable to properly care for the creature.
"The majority of people do not have the means to adequately care for a wolfdog, but it is not to say there aren't people out there that can do this successfully," Alyx Harris, the park's operations manager, told The Current in an email.
She added that the creatures are at a high risk for euthanasia, if owners cannot find a new home for them.
The dilemma and the paradox
Conflict, sometimes escalating into tragedy, becomes a running theme throughout Part of the Pack's narratives.
The attack on Sally Allan by Mahikan and her pups, meanwhile, left her with 46 lacerations and her thumb was almost severed, according to independent news site, The Tyee. Gary Allen says it also left his wife with superficial lacerations on the back of her head.
Allan believes Mahikan and her pups were spooked after a neighbour had removed trees from their property adjacent to the wolfdogs' outdoor enclosure about a week before they attacked his wife.
Sally, he explained, went to check on the wolves to see how they were doing, as Mahikan had been whining in a way they hadn't heard before. Sally then grabbed a tree branch for support while standing up from a squatting position, he said. When the branch made a snapping noise, it may have triggered the wolves' "predator response," and in an instant they changed from companions to ravagers, Allan said.
Groc said that while shooting the documentary, she learned that the once-vast wild habitats for wolves in B.C., have been whittled down by urban development. This raises the liklihood of encounters between wolves and humans, with potentially tragic outcomes.
"Wolves, but also cougars, bears, other animals have to adapt to landscapes they have to share with people. And when they do that, they do not seek out to connect with people," she said.
Groc says her film is "an invitation" for viewers to think more about the relationship between humans and nature — and when it's better for everyone to leave wild animals well enough alone.
"This is the nature of the dilemma and the paradox ... how do we humans keep our connection to the wild alive while at the same time making sure those animals are wild and safe and have the space they need to to to survive?"
Corrections
- An earlier version of this story said that Sally Allan had the back of her head torn open in an attack by their wolfdogs, which were agitated by the sounds of chainsaws and set off by the snapping of a branch. Gary Allan said the injuries to her head were superficial lacerations, and that while spooked by tree removal a week earlier, the animals' attack was set off when a tree branch made a small cracking sound.Feb 08, 2023 5:10 PM ET
Produced by Ben Jamieson.
