Dear Wolfies, We Need To Talk About Wolves. Signed, An Actual Wolf

Hey, hi, how’s it going?

Say, this morning I got a Google news alert about a story on some of my packies in Eastern Oregon, so I clicked on it and read that there’s good and bad news for them.

The good, of course, is that we’re really recovering there — hurray, us!

(As if there was any doubt we would, silly humans.)


The bad was that — yikes — “It’s getting a little bit easier for humans to kill” us.

Run away! Run away!

JK, we’re not going anywhere.

Sounds like our population has reached some number or another in some big old management plan document that everybody agreed to in the distant past, and now, as you two-leggers like to say, the chickens are coming home to roost.

(Pro tip: Best served raw.)

Well, duh.

Look, thanks to the reintroduction of my great-great-great-great-great grandparents, Herkimer and Wilhelmina Wolf, into the Northern Rockies 20-whatever winters ago, and those federal and state protections, we’re unstoppable.

The kid gloves you’ve been handling us with? Yeah, those can come off — and asap.

Honestly, that part of this whole thing has been way too embarrassing, for way too long.

Those sneaky little cameras on the trees and those collar thingies put around our necks apparently don’t record their taunts, but the bears and cougars give us so much sh*t about being the “bios’ little favorites” and stuff.

Even the coyotes laugh at us, and That’s. Just. Not. Cool.

So, enough with that.

And this quote from the aforementioned story? “We’re still in this very delicate phase when it comes to wolf recovery,” said Arran Robertson of Oregon Wild.

Puh-lease, wolfy, never ever use the word “delicate” in reference to us again.

We’re not delicate flowers, we’re not delicate snowflakes, we’re not delicate nothing.

Ahem, these fangs? The huge horkin’ paws?

“If you had something like a disease outbreak, that could affect a huge chunk of the population,” Robertson fretted, according to the article. “So we still want keep protections in place … because we could end up falling backwards very easily.”

Trust me, we wouldn’t feel the same way if a nice dose of the plague hit ya’ll.

You’re going to have to get used to what recovery brings with it.

I know that will be hard, but we’re wolves here, damnit. Not unicorns. Not Bigfoot.

Not circus freaks or zoo exhibits.

We’re regular animals. We’ve got day jobs, families, homes, we have fun little get-togethers, yeah OK sometimes we get in trouble with the neighbors.

(Pro tip: Best served raw.)

Speaking of, here’s another thing: Quit reporting that people in the Middle Ages made up stories like Little Red Riding Hood.

You’re killing our reputation, coyotes are laughing at us — we’re talking libel suit here!

We can handle this, really. See what we’ve done in Idaho? Montana? Northeast Washington?

Nothin’ different about Oregon; if anything this is even more fertile ground, even if it’s further away from the 1.2 trillion cousins of ours up in Canada.

Sometimes we think you want us to fail, to always be just below some magic recovery number so we can’t take our place in the animal kingdom, so that we can be your little pets for all eternity.

Not to bite the hand that feeds us …

(Yep, best served raw.)

… but let go, we got this.



Wolfy von Wolferstein IIIIX

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