Today I went into Albuquerque to pick up two new volunteers, Hallie and James. These two 20-somethings are both students at the University of Bennington, in Vermont, where they are studying biology.
Sometimes I wonder what a new volunteer thinks as they are first introduced to their "taxi-driver" and the Sanctuary. Imagine leaving the baggage claim to hop into a dust-coated camry, driven by a tangled-haired, meat-separation-stained- jeans-wearing, wolf-caretaker. As the sun sets, you watch as you leave Albuquerque, and civilization, behind. An hour into the trip, as city lights completely fade out of existence, and the road beings to climb higher and higher into the mountains, all scenery becomes dark except for the dusty road ahead and the star spla
ttered sky. Surely we must be there soon... As time goes on, and we pass through the small complex known as Mountainview, you wonder if this is where we are going, but no, your newly appointed escort keeps driving, driving, driving until finally you hit a dirt road. Eight or so miles down this road, you pull into a gravel parking lot and are greeted by the sound of 50+ wolves howling. You're driven to your new residence, perhaps known as "The Dome," or "The Black Box," or "Hogan #2." Back up in the dirt roads of the sanctuary, you're taught at 12 at night how to build a fire to keep warm, shown where the nearest outhouse is, and then, instructed to "follow the wolves" down the path to the kitchen for the meeting the next morning "and don't stick your fingers through the fence."As I left James an
d Hallie this evening, I couldn't help but smile to myself remembering my first day at the Santuary back in May, and the feelings and thoughts I was overcome with. As soon as one hears their first howl, it is certain that he or she will become filled with a certain passion, joy and change of spirit. However, at the same time, the brutal reality is also setting in: You are an hour and a half from the nearest Walmart. The nearest place to buy a box of Cheerio's is a 20-minute drive. To go out for dinner, at least 40 minutes. To make a phone call from a cell phone... if you're lucky, an hour. To keep warm through the night, you now have to constantly check that your fire is burning properly. You might as well be lost to the stone ages, in this world.And so, while the rewards of volunteering at a rescue facility for wolves are never ending, it does take a special, strong-willed individual to "hack it" here, especially in the winter. There are so many new things to learn, animals to meet, and changes to adjust to, all while you have lost almost all contact with the "real world." Even some of the best volunteers haven't made it through their expected time periods. However, there are some of us, myself included, who at one point referred to ourselves as city-slackers, media- fiends, and social-butterflies, that later realize that this is where we belong.
Time will only tell with James and Hallie, and I'm interested to see how they do, as well as how their impressions of the Santuary change as they adapt. Somehow, after that first interaction with an animal, everything normally turns out to be okay.
--Angel
