Only a couple of weeks after the arctic pups arrived, 5 six week old timber-arctic crosses were in need of placement. While we dishearteningly turned down the offer, another individual who planned on starting a facility in Ohio accepted the pups if we agreed to board them while he made travel arrangements.
From the day we met them, we started noticing a world of difference in the timbers from our original crew. The arctics we had started with were like “rag-dolls.” They cuddled, they fell into your lap if you touched them. The timbers were excitable, frisky jumpers who would leap into the air for attention. Their rambunctious personalities were endearing, and playing with them became quite a bit of fun for all of us

at Wild Spirit.
Roughly a week after their arrival, we began finding out a little too much about the situation they were going into. Proper arrangements had not been made, and we were misinformed of quite a bit. It was decided that we couldn’t let the timber’s go to the situation that had been planned. And so, while we toiled with the idea of arranging placement at a different facility, all five of the timbers ended up staying at Wild Spirit as well.
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Sleeping in a room with six arctic pups is a quite an ordeal. There’s always someone awake, finding some sort of mischief to get into. There’s always someone who’s decided that the best place to pee is right on their caretaker’s pillow, and there’s always someone who thinks it’s a great idea to test out their new found teeth on the sleeping human’s arm or cheek!
When we first integrated the timbers however, 11 puppies in one room only lasted one night!
It was hard to let them go that first day – to put them in an enclosure overnight without supervision. It was hard to watch them find solace in one another, in the grass, in the mud, and not in a person.
The first night the pups spent in an enclosure together, I woke every two hours and checked on them – just as though I was still on their original bottle-feeding schedule. And each time, of course, they were perfectly all right and only mildly excited to see the overly-concerned human that had come to visit.
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When the pups were being bottle fed, their paws pulled at our arms as though they were trying to push more milk out of a mother’s nipple. Tiny, sharp, cat-like claws dug into our arms, and Leyton and myself both looked as though we were making poor-suicide attempts, or trying to shoot up heroine! Tiny claw wounds were exposed to the sting of formula, but it never seemed to matter. Their tiny mouths sucking so strongly—their milk splattered “beards” – their warm, fuzzy gray bodies – it was too much “cuteness” to let any pain slip into one’s mind.
When the arctics & timbers moved into an enclosure together, a new feeding pain came about. The timbers were like “little jumping beans” and the arctics soon learned the trick as well. In order to feed the “chicken-paste” we were serving, we’d spread it out on bucket lids and carry at first two, then three, then four, then five platters into the enclosure with the pups three times a day.
For the first few days, we were able to simply open the door and be mauled for a few seconds before setting the platters on the ground for the “feast.” Soon however, anytime we went in, two or three little “fur-kids” came out! As soon as they saw the food entering the enclosure however, they of course followed.
Within a week our little timber “jumping beans” had taught the arctics the great trick of getting your food mid-air, and little bite marks began gracing my hands and arms each day. We came up with a new system, and started entering the enclosure and throwing the trays like Frisbees to different sides of the enclosure.
This, too, was not long-lasting and eventually, it began taking three people to feed the “puppy pack.” One person on either side of the enclosure, one (typically myself) inside, being handed one tray at a time to quickly toss in the other direction.
Amazing… to watch 11 pups eat 80 lbs of “chicken paste” each day… 20-30 lbs in each sitting, and it all disappeared within seconds…
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Storm was the first to let us know he was ready for “real food.” I was working in the animal care office one day, while Alice, Storm & Sabine visited. At some point, one of our volunteers, Mary came in to tell me something or other, and as the door opened, Stormy slipped out into the Wolf Kitchen unbeknownst to either of us.
Now, the Wolf Kitchen is full of fun things. Since it's where we prepare and store all of the “wolf food” there’s always bags of treats in the pantry, dishes with leftovers on the sink, and plenty of leashes that look very edible to playful little pups. On many occasions, a pup had slipped between our legs and found something fun and mischevious to get into. Storm, however, found the jackpot.
Mary had just been preparing to de-bone, de-skin, grind, & blend chicken to make “baby-food.” As she was leaving the office, Storm pranced happily and proudly in with a chicken quarter in his mouth. He had found her bucket, and confiscated his first “real meal.”

Storm had some help on that first “snack.” Sabine & Alice assisted him in cracking the bones, and chewing it up, and the three had quite a good time in the office that day. While we waited a couple of more weeks, it was a good sign that the kids were ready for chicken – bone and all – just like the rest of the wolves.

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The best thing about puppies in comparison to adult wolves, is that pups still love human attention. When they escape, they come running to their human mom’s and dad’s to let them know about their new-found talent. It’s a good thing, too, because our kids sure found plenty of escape routes.
In the beginning, we kept small 3-foot gates around the enclosure entrance so the pups had a “sub-enclosure” to come into when tours were around. We’d open the gate, let a couple of pups in, and visitors could reach over the small fence to greet the youngsters.
Without any testing of limits, Thunder one day shocked us all by jumping straight up in the air and clearing his “containment.” The tour loved it – The laughed as Thunder romped around the inner-compound and his brothers & sisters, and timber cousins excitedly watched. Thunder, quite proud of himself, simply pranced up to Sierra, one of our volunteer’s dogs, and we were able to leash him and take him back to his enclosure.
The bad thing about this situation is that wolves learn by observation. The next time pups were let into the containment, they all remembered Thunder’s genius idea, and thus, we had four wolf pups romping happily through the inner-compound.
The pups also made other escape arrangements. Dakota, the largest of the timbers, and who I’ve always referred to as “my problem child” found that he could tunnel out of his enclosure. Now, while this was definitely a problem, I couldn’t help be impressed by this act.
You see, all of the enclosures at the sanctuary are equipped with ground-wiring to prevent such activity. While wolves consistently dig down and straight across, they rarely dig up. The reason for this, is most likely that they’ll be laying on their backs, getting dirt falling in their face if they are digging upward. Of course, it’s still a possibility, and of course, the enclosure the pups were in wasn’t quite as well equipped as our adult enclosures, and of course one of the pups was bound to surprise us.
We watched the digging start. We watched the pups hit the ground wire, and continue digging a nice hold straight down. One afternoon, however, we also watched a furry little paw reaching out from under the ground. Dakota had tunneled his way out of their enclosure, and covered in dirt, started happily wiggling his rear-end and whining as soon as he saw he was outside and near the people he was trying to get to. Once again, wolves learning by observation hurt us, and several tunnels began taking form all around the perimeter of the enclosure. This day marked the first “puppy pen maintenance” as well as starting to split the pack up.
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The pens we utilized for the pups when they first went outside are what we refer to as our “geriatric ward.” They are smaller pens, less-professionally constructed, they have felt the sting of time ware on them, and they aren’t quite as tall as our typical enclosures. Sabine, the tiniest of the pups, one day proved that the “geriatric ward” was no longer up to her standards.
During feeding. Sabine or “Bean” (think jumping bean), got so excited over the chicken that was about to be delivered, that she jumped straight up in the air, clearing the six foot fence and the extra feet of overhang. Flying through the air, headed straight for a chicken bucket, came the tiniest pup, and soon to follow, her equally impressive at jumping brother, Thunder.
The pups at this point began utilizing our isolation enclosures that are equipped with roofing, but it wasn’t long, before our 11 pups moved into large, “big-kid” enclosures.