When the silvery-tan wolf tasted new smells and felt new fear, she ran some more. After days of hunger, she tracked the scent of meat. She approached slowly and sniffed. The quick pain of a snare around her foreleg enraged the wolf She twisted and turned and snapped, then finally collapsed, exhausted. Later, a man lunged at her. She crouched, lifted her lips, and curled onto her back. He jabbed her and covered her head.
Chapter Five
Nika stared at the black-brown sausage of fur with stubby legs cupped in Ian’s hands. It had a small wrinkled face, with ears curled down like tiny closed fists.
“The other pups are gone,” he said. He turned the pup over, and it squealed and kicked. “It’s a male.”
She gazed at the pup, amazed by its wildness. It wasn’t soft and appealing like dog puppies she had known, with glistening fur and tongue-licked soft ears. She was so lost in the mysteries of the small animal that she hardly heard Ian when he said, “Nika, did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what?” she answered.
“I’m conflicted about this.”
“About what?” she answered. The pup was squirming in Ian’s hands.
“Well, I should probably let nature take its course.”
Nika gave him a fierce look.
“Usually I would. But it isn’t a usual situation, the mother being shot.” He seemed uncertain. “Also, I suppose the pup is young enough to be socialized for an educational facility. Even if we take him, he still might die. He’ll never live wild again.”
He had her attention now. The whole world turned a click. Her mouth open, she gaped at Ian.
With sudden urgency he said, “We’ve got to warm him up. Here. Hold him.”
She reached out and gently pulled the pup close, cradling it in her arms, smelling its sharp earthy smell. Its fur was caked with reddish dirt. The soft inner layer of fur was clay colored, the outer layer dark and coarse. Its round belly seemed too big for its body. The small face poked into the folds of her shirt, making little grunts and groans. It was surprisingly strong.
“Okay. You need to carry him against your skin. He’s scared. Warmth will calm him,” Ian said.
“You mean me?” she asked.
“You heard the ‘next to your skin’ part, right?” Ian answered.
Nika could no longer make words. She nodded, then nodded again.
Ian raised his eyebrows and said, “Well, let me help you.” He instructed her how to tuck the little wolf under her T-shirt and her anorak so the pup could snuggle against her. He tied the sleeves of her flannel shirt like a belt around the bottom of the anorak, to keep the pup from slipping out. “The little pouch will do the trick,” he said, surveying their work.
Like a mama kangaroo, Nika thought. Unbelievable. The scratchy warmth and the cold nose bumping her bare belly was one of the best feelings she had ever experienced. As she cradled the shivering bulge with her hands, it quieted.
Nika moved with new purpose now. It was strange how alive she felt with this woolly bundle against her. Something flowed between her and the pup as it swayed with her motion. She fell into the rhythm of Ian’s footsteps. Stepping over logs and around rocks, her feet began to feel more agile and certain as they retraced their trail to the beach.
When they reached the beach and were waiting for Maki, Nika asked, “Who would do this?”
“There’s a guy from Red Pine who’s been known to sell pups illegally. People buy them as pets. He breeds wolves with dogs, too. He once bred foxes for fur, but they all died. It could be him. The authorities shut him down from time to time, but he always gets more animals. He’s got problems, hates the government, rants and raves at people on the street.” Ian passed a water bottle to Nika. She shifted one hand under the pup, using the other to tip the bottle for a long drink.
“What about the other pups?” she asked.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t keep them long. Wouldn’t want someone to trace the pups to him. He’s been in jail before.”
“What about the male? The dad wolf? I thought you said mates stayed together.”
“He could have been shot, too. Since he wasn’t collared, we’ll never know.”
Nika glanced down at the lump under her shirt. “How old is he?”
“I’d say less than two weeks. The eyes usually open at about twelve to fourteen days, and his aren’t open yet. Which is perfect, really, because we have him before he starts a stage called fear avoidance, something that will happen about the time he opens his eyes. They use their senses, mostly their sense of smell, to recognize the members of their pack. They call it bonding. In humans, it’s bonding when a newborn baby attaches to his mom.”
They were silent for a moment. Off in the distance they heard the growl of a plane. Ian said, “Let’s get ready.”
When they were loaded up and pushed out, before Maki started the engines again, Ian said, “Muffle the sound for the pup by holding this jacket over him. He’s probably okay since his ears haven’t opened yet.”
Somehow the pup survived the flight without panic. Ian radioed the vet, Dr. Dave, and arranged for a house call.
Back at Pearl’s, when she hatched him out of her shirt bundle, the pup squealed for a few minutes, then became silent again. Nika held him close while Ian set about renovating the screen porch into a pup nursery. “This isn’t the first time Pearl’s porch has housed a wild orphan,” he said.
“Babies are work, no matter how much fun they are,” he muttered as he cleared boxes and empty clay pots from the porch. He stuffed a layer of straw into an old wooden box he’d found in the shed. Then he came back with a dog crate with a carrying handle. “We’ll let him get used to this, too.”
Nika sat on an old sleeping bag on the porch’s painted wooden floor. Reality blurred as the pup curled with his nose against her skin. She peeked down through the opening of her shirt. He was just a little loaf, a squirming handful. Ian said he probably weighed only a couple of pounds. When Ian finished the porch, they tried to feed the pup, filling a basting syringe from the kitchen with reconstituted dried milk, but the pup turned his head away and squirmed until he quieted again beneath Nika’s shirt.
In Pearl’s pile of giveaways in the shed, Ian found a tattered sheepskin vest. “We can let him cuddle in this. You can’t hold him twenty-four-seven. If he was with his mom, he would be down in the den curled up against her most of the time with warm pup bodies all around.” Nika put the vest beside her on the sleeping bag for now.
Outside it was late afternoon and beginning to cool down. Ian pulled in another old sleeping bag and secured the plastic on the screens, talking the whole time. “I’m glad Pearl didn’t take down this plastic yet. We can do that in a couple of weeks, but for now, it will keep it warmer in here. For such tough animals, wolf pups are pretty fragile at first. I can bring a propane heater from the shed, if we need it.”
Nika was lost in another world.
After a few more adjustments to the new porch nursery, Ian left and came back with two ham and cheese sandwiches.
“This will hold us for a while,” he said. “I’ve got to make a trip into town. I’ll touch base with Dr. Dave. He’s coming out, but I’ll need to get supplies, bottles, formula, disinfectant.”
Hands on his hips, he paused. “Nika, I feel a little uncomfortable about doing this, but are you okay if I leave you alone for a while?”
“Sure,” she said, almost amused. Apparently Ian didn’t know how much coping on her own she’d done in the last year and a half. Being left on her own was almost expected. Admittedly, this was a new kind of alone—way out on a wilderness island, alone with a wolf pup.
“Okay,” he said, “No sense wasting time. I should be back in less than an hour and a half.”
Much later Nika heard two outboard motors, just as the orange light of sunset glowed through the black trees. Ian came through the door and lowered a loaded box onto the porch table. Following him was Dave Hopkins, the vet.
The box overflowed with ba
by bottles, plastic containers, cans of special formula, and paper towels. Ian hardly spoke, he was concentrating so hard on organizing. After stowing some things in Pearl’s gas refrigerator and rattling at the stove, he came back with a plastic nursing bottle of formula that he tested by squirting some onto his wrist, just like on TV!
“We’ll hope he takes the bottle. If he doesn’t, we can inject some fluids, or think about a feeding tube,” Dr. Dave said. “Now let’s see the little guy.” Nika gently extracted the solid little body from under her shirt. The pup immediately made sharp little whimper sounds and paddled the air with his short legs. Dave lifted him carefully in both hands, laid him on the sheepskin, and gently felt the pup all over. “He’s seems pretty healthy. Black pelage, like his mom. And a little powerhouse, to be able to pull himself into a safe corner. The trick will be if he’ll eat and how he’ll handle the stress.”
Nika didn’t know what pelage was. Maybe the vet just meant the pup was going to be black. Right now it was hard to say what color he was. Dark earth colored, more than anything.
Ian turned on a goosenecked lamp that hung on the wall. Then he sat down next to Nika and picked up the pup. “I’ll give it a go,” he said, holding the pup like a baby and brushing the nipple back and forth in front of his nose and lips. The pup let out a squeal, almost a yip, and turned his head away, squirming and twisting in Ian’s hands. “Hmm. He doesn’t like that too much.” He returned the pup to the sheepskin where it nosed in the fur and calmed down.
Nika tried it next, awkwardly holding the bottle toward his bobbing head. Again the pup turned away, pumping his blocky head up and down.
Ian sighed. “We’ll try later. He’s had a bad, scary time of it. We’ll just let him sleep for a bit, then try again.”
“If he doesn’t take something by midnight,” said Dave, “I’ll leave the syringe and fluids here for injecting, to keep him hydrated.”
Ian stood and put his hand on Nika’s shoulder. “Remember, when we first picked this guy up, I said it might not work.” He patted her shoulder.
In her head, Nika translated, The pup could die. She turned away. No way, not if she could do anything about it.
Dr. Dave left, and night folded slowly around the island. Wind rattled the plastic on the screens. During the night Ian and Nika tried to feed the tiny pup every couple of hours. But each time he turned his head away. His moans and squeaks seemed weaker. Finally at midnight Ian filled the syringe and injected some fluids under the pup’s loose neck skin. A couple of times during the night Ian cleaned the pup’s behind with a warm washcloth.
Finally, exhausted, they both settled down in the sleeping bags. Ian placed the pup and the sheepskin vest inside Nika’s bag. Ian seemed to sleep, but Nika never did. She lay in the dark and listened to the wind, the rattle of plastic, the groans and squeaks from the pup, and the soft snoring from Ian. Cold filtered through her sleeping bag as the night wore on, and Nika wished she had another blanket.
When the first lances of light pierced the trees, Nika was in a dazed and happy state. The pup needed her. She didn’t have time to think about anything else. He was struggling, not wanting to eat. But she knew she could help him. He would eat. He just would.
Ian crawled out of his bag and shuffled around in the kitchen.
Nika got up and went to the outhouse, closing the porch door gently both going and coming back, so it wouldn’t startle the pup.
When she sat back down on the sleeping bag, she lifted the pup-filled sheepskin vest. He squeaked and groaned, bumping Nika with his nose.
“Ian!” she called.
Ian answered from the kitchen. “Time to try again? I’ll get the formula.” He popped quickly into the porch and grabbed a sterilized bottle from the table. In a short time he returned with a nursing bottle full of warmed formula. He handed it to Nika.
“Try it like this. Try squeezing out a little on your fingers, and then put them right under his nose. He might suck your finger. His sense of smell is good even though he doesn’t see or hear yet. Then rub the milky nipple by his lips.” Nika stared at Ian for a moment. Somehow it was the last thing she ever expected of this wolf-cutting, pack-toting wrinkled-pants science guy, that he would know anything about bottles and babies.
The pup was squirming on her lap, bobbing his heavy little head and squeaking. Nika took the bottle, squeezed some formula onto her fingers, and rubbed it on his lips. His head quivered for a moment, waving back and forth. Gently, she forked one hand under him and touched the nipple to his lips. For a frantic moment he jammed his head around, then grabbed the nipple, sucking so hard at first, he squeezed the nipple shut. Finally as the formula began to flow, he sneezed, and his chubby little paws curled and uncurled. His whole body worked as he sucked down all but a few drops. Finished, the pup slumped down into her lap where he snorted, burped, and fell asleep. Neither Nika nor Ian said anything for several minutes. Nor did they move. They smiled at each other in silence.
“That’s more like it,” Ian finally said.
Switching to teacher mode, he said, “Next essential. Maybe you noticed me doing this last night, but now that he’s eating, bathroom chores become more important. I’ll show you what to do.” Olivia would never believe this, Nika thought, as Ian set the sleepy pup on a diaper pad. He had brought a bowl of partially heated water and a piece of sorn-up old towel. “We want to make sure everything is used once and washed.” He paused. “Remind me to introduce you to Big Bertha later on, Pearl’s ancient wringer washer that she keeps in the shed. Even though we live with outhouses, we have a well and a generator for electricity. Propane heats the water. A bit time-consuming, but it works. Nature does the drying.”
He proceeded to dip the towel and to wipe the pup’s bottom. Then he took fresh towel bits and wiped again, picking up messy parts with paper towels. “Just like mom’s tongue,” he said. Nika covered her mouth so Ian wouldn’t see the face she couldn’t help making.
“Anyway,” Ian said, putting the clean pup back in the vest, “pups are very vulnerable to disease at this age. In the wild, cleaning keeps the den fresh, making fewer smells to attract predators.” He removed the pad. “You’ll get used to it.”
He stood. “I’ll make us some breakfast. We’ve got to eat, too.” Suddenly Nika realized she was starving. Since waking this morning in the porch with the pup next to her, all she’d thought was What if he doesn’t eat? He’s got to eat. What if he doesn’t?
But he did. Four whole ounces!
Their day became a team effort of mixing formula, feeding, cleaning the pup’s bottom, cuddling, napping, reading, mixing, feeding, cleaning, cuddling, and napping, operating Big Bertha, and hanging out laundry. Weighing with a sling scale was added to pup duties. Officially, the pup weighed in at two pounds, two ounces, his first day. Ian estimated his age now at about ten or eleven days. He made a chart to keep track of dates, eating, and weights that hung on a clipboard by the kitchen door. A routine was established. Nika had little time to think about much else.
“Shall we both sleep out here again tonight?” asked Ian that afternoon. “Don’t worry about it, if you’re too tired. I don’t think you slept much last night. And it gets cold.”
“You snore,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“If you want some real sleep, I think I could handle this guy by myself. Then we’ll set up a schedule. Maki said he would help a few nights or days. A new research assistant is coming soon. I’m sure she’d be delighted. Dr. Dave has a volunteer. And Pearl, of course, when she comes back. Even Zeus will help. We’ll have a whole pup team!”
Nika thought for a moment. Why all those people? In a way, she liked it with just the two of them. Nika was already beginning to feel like this black furry milk guzzler was really hers.
“He’s so tiny. You and I can take care of him ourselves, don’t you think?”
Ian smiled.
“I’ll stay,” Nika answered firmly, not looking at Ian. “I’ll sleep here. But I’ll
need another blanket.” She kept her eyes on the pup. “Maybe tonight he’ll sleep better and not squirm around so much.”
Ian picked up a briefcase and took out some paperwork. “Never fear—he’ll wake us up.”
Nika looked to see if he was amused by this idea. It was the kind of thing people laughed about together. But she couldn’t tell.
Later they both settled in for the night, reading by headlamps as the pup nestled in the sheepskin inside Nika’s unzipped sleeping bag. The extra blanket was beside her. As he clicked off his headlamp, Ian said, “We’re going to have to pup-proof this porch pretty soon. He’s going to be all over it, chewing anything that’s loose. Anything with a cord, for example. And we’ll need a baby gate for the door.”
They were silent for a minute. Then Ian’s voice came through the dark, more serious now.
“You know, Nika, a wolf pup is not a pet, not a dog. However much we get him to accept us, he’s still a wild animal, with the needs of a wild animal.”
“I know,” Nika said, her voice low. Of course she knew the pup was a wild animal. Of all people, she knew not to get her heart set on anything.
In the dark, as she listened to the pup’s wheezing snores and moans, she reached out her hand to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. She snuggled down. Just touching him, she felt better.
The silvery-tan wolf patrolled the small pen with cautious steps. The smells of other animals wafted through the air. When the man threw scraps of meat over the fence, his mouth twisted to the side. The wolf hunched and froze behind a pile of lumber. In her corner she began to dig. Each day she dug with new energy. Her large paws became dark with dirt. And in the night, the rich dark smells of earth called her to dig some more. When she slept, her paws moved in her dreams.
Summer of the Wolves Page 5
