I spent the past month of August in Germany, where I had quite a lot of interesting adventures. Certainly enough fodder to write about, though not all at once. So here will start the first in a series of relevant posts about my adventures. This one involves an interesting encounter whilst visiting the Mackenzie Valley wolf exhibit in the Hannover Zoo.
The black wolf with the greying muzzle is the one I specifically had the encounter with. I was hanging out with my partner at the enclosure for quite a bit, observing their behavior and taking (mostly blurred and shitty) pictures. At one point I gave up and put my camera away, resigning myself to the fact that my photography skills are sub-par at best, and contented myself with watching them. The black wolf in question couldn't decide wether to sit down with his tawny-grey companion, or continue pacing and inspecting the other end of the enclosure. Eventually he settled down, and I contented myself with leaning against the rail and observing them. Aside from myself, my partner and his family, not many people where about. Otherwise it seemed quite peaceful, until something fairly unexpected occurred.
It happened when my eyes swept back to the furry bundle of wolves in front of me. I was met with blazing eyes, flashing teeth and a low growl framed against a black face...pointed directly at me. Other people who where gathered around the same area of the enclosure murmured, chattered and pointed--apparently they had seen it, too. I just stood there like an idiot, mouth hanging open. I asked my partner if that was directed at me, and looked left and right quickly to see who or what else might have raised the wolf's ire. I also quickly wracked my brain, trying to figure out if I might have done anything to bring about offense, but nothing came to mind at the time. Taking a bit of a chance, I leaned forward, hands against the rail, and wuffed softly, my intention to request clarification rather than antagonize. As I did so, the wolf's amber eyes flicked upwards to meet mine, silvery lips parting in a murderous-looking grin. Another growl was emitted, this time much louder. People who witnessed the event exclaimed loudly and pointed.
I took a step back and held my breath. The wolf lowered his/her gaze down to attend to the sleeping packmate. Nothing more was spoken between the two of us, and I stood there feeling breathless, and a bit confused.
I'm somehow reminded of the last post I made, as this very experience is very applicable. Did the wolf sense that I was, in fact, a strange canine in a strange body and act accordingly? Or more rationally, did sie* assume that I was a child, and decide to menace me with hir teeth a couple times to get a point across? I've been in a fair amount of zoos and related wildlife facilities, and I do notice that children have this nasty habit of screaming, roaring, howling, and barking at the local canine captives. This is a nasty habit and not one I engage in myself otherwise. Seeing as I was engaged first and aggressively, I merely responded, and my response was far from antagonistic or angry, merely questioning. Given that I do not possess the tall nordic gene that my ancestors did, it probably would be easy for an otherwise stressed-out and enclosed wolf to assume I would be just another loudmouthed, obnoxious little brat. I would've growled at the little bastards, too.
The answer, in the end, isn't all that clear. Perhaps there's more than one answer, or none of the above. Why I was singled out for the aggression I'll never fully know, but one thing I do know--it was a thrilling experience, especially to have on one's birthday. The conversation itself was short and simple and to-the-point (can't make it any clearer than flashing the old ivory every now and again), and regardless of any deeper meaning it bridged that species gap, if only for a few seconds. What a refreshing experience, and a nice gift on one's birthday, too.
*I was unsure of the wolf's gender in this case, so I tried to use a neutral pronoun instead.
