A True Wolf Story
Two days after Christmas and we still didn’t have any snow for skiing or snowshoeing, so I decided to go for a run on the ski trail behind my house—that way the dogs could run off-leash.
Joanie and Chip zipped in and out of the woods, following scents, and returned to the trail to check on my progress.
The three of us were a little over halfway around the loop when Chip jumped off the trail into some thick brush.
I heard growling. My first thought was that he’d encountered a porcupine. Then I heard a yelp of pain.
I ran to the edge of the trail, shouting and waving my arms, trying to scare it away.
At first, I saw a blur of motion, but then time seemed to slow down. I saw three large canine heads, teeth snapping at Chip.
I froze for a moment or two, as I thought about what to do. I didn’t have a weapon with me. Chip was wearing his electronic collar and the beeper was on, but I couldn’t think of how that would help. Then I remembered the whistle around my neck.
I blew it hard three times. It must have startled the wolves, just enough, because Chip escaped and leaped back onto the trail. He stopped a few feet from me, breathing hard. He had bloody spots on his chest and his left thigh.
Then Joanie showed up too. She’d been dawdling behind us on the trail and came to the whistle. I yanked her transmitter out of my pocket and turned on her beeper.
None of the wolves had leaped out after us, so the dogs and I continued on our way. Chip was able to trot, so I quickly moved from walking to running. We were still about a mile from home.
A couple of minutes later I realized Joanie’s beeper had gotten faint. I stopped and blew the whistle again. Chip stopped nearby and waited with me.
Joanie came trotting down the trail, a wolf trotting behind her.
The wolf was more than twice her size—taller, broader across the chest, longer, heavier. Joanie weighs 40 pounds.
The wolf stopped about 30 feet away and stood sideways across the trail, head turned toward me.
I got a very good look at it. Its heavy, full coat was black with brown underneath. The ears were small, smaller than I expected, its snout was blunt, not long and pointy like a coyote’s.
I waved my arms at it and yelled. It wasn’t afraid of me. That’s when I started to become afraid of it, for myself, not just for the dogs. What could I do if it came after us?
It didn’t seem aggressive, so I turned and we started for home. I glanced over my shoulder frequently, but didn’t see a wolf follow us any farther.
I took Chip to the vet right away. He was lucky, the vet said. A bite on his chest missed his lung by a millimeter or two. The biggest gash was on his thigh. It required a couple of staples. He’s recovered now and doing well.
We still go into the woods regularly, but I now keep the dogs’ beepers on all the time and carry a weapon. I’ve seen wolf tracks and scat since then, but no animals themselves.
What does this wolf story have to do with writing?
The events I described above are as true to how they happened as I can make them. They’re like the first draft of a story. This is what happened, what I noticed, what I thought, what I did, what I felt—all within those few moments.
In a revision, I’d go back and add more texture. What do I want to emphasize?
For example, I literally felt time slow down. That’s not a literary device.
But it doesn’t help a reader feel what that was like, does it?
Maybe this: It felt like long minutes passed while Chip fought with 3 wolves, but between my hearing the first growl and then blasting my whistle, it was probably less than 3 seconds.
In a revision, I might also back up the story a bit and mention Joanie. Seconds before Chip got in trouble, she made an odd point from the middle of the trail. Her posture told me she smelled something unusual and possibly something that made her nervous.
But I was running and didn’t have time to process it before Chip leaped into the fray. Joanie has smelled wolves before and been cautious. Chip is more impulsive. He smells something interesting and wants to follow the scent to its source.
I might also add something about Joanie’s behavior after the fight, when her beeper got quieter. Was she protecting our flank as Chip and I retreated?
As I think back to her trotting up the trail with the wolf behind her, my interpretation now is that she was not being chased. Instead, it looked like she was being escorted off the wolf’s property.
In a revision, I could also add more information about wolves vs. coyotes.
When the wolf and I faced off, I had time to look at it. I paid most attention to its head, because I wanted to know if it was going to keep following us.
From its size, I thought at the time that it was a wolf, but I also wondered, in that moment, if those were the ears and the snout of a wolf. They didn’t look right for a coyote—the snout wasn’t pointy enough—and it looked much too large to be a coyote.
In a way, it looked so dog-like. And that surprised me, which is another reason I focused so much on the head and face.
It kept its mouth closed as it looked at me. It didn’t snarl or do anything threatening, but it also wasn’t backing down.
In a revision, I might want to add information about how to tell coyotes and wolves apart. I looked up the differences—I was right about the snout! Coyotes have bigger, pointier ears too. I hadn’t known that. I also looked at lots of different photos of wolves and coyotes and am even more certain of my identification.
I had my phone with me. Did I even think about taking a photo of that stationary wolf?
I’m not sure that I did. I was getting scared by then. I was so focused on the business end of that wolf—its head—that I couldn’t think beyond how to get myself and the dogs home safely.
Later that day, I reported the attack to the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources. A wildlife services specialist from the USDA visited the next day. Based on his measurement of the bite mark on Chip’s thigh and his investigation of the attack site, he can’t verify that it was wolves. The ground was frozen so there were no tracks to measure. He thinks it was maybe large coyotes. He saw signs of both coyotes and wolves in the area.
Turning this story into fiction
If I ever use this story in fiction, there are so many ways to go with it!
One reason the wildlife guy seemed skeptical that it was wolves was because Chip survived the attack. If it was wolves (and I stick my assertion that it was), why didn’t they kill Chip?
This is where I would want to imagine what the wolves were doing, thinking, and feeling before Chip arrived.
Were they annoyed that this dog joined their private party? Were they already full from eating something so not bothered enough to kill him?
Did that noisy human arrive before they had a chance to do serious damage?
Were they juvenile wolves, not quite full-grown yet? Was this the first dog they’d ever met?
Exploring the wolves’ point of view could be fascinating.
What would you want to explore?