Nikki, one of our newest residents, entertains me in a way that perhaps he shouldn’t. Nikki came to us perhaps six months ago. He’s an extremely high-content wolf-dog with a pretty typical past. A woman raised him from the time he was a pup, but at one point had to move unexpectedly. While Nikki spent time in a friend’s yard, the situation certainly wasn’t a possibility for permanence. He also, as he matured, had become more and more difficult to work with. The woman who took care of him found the only way she could safely enter the enclosure was to wear the exact same clothes every time she went in with him. If she wore anything else, he would n
ip at her, tearing her clothing and sometimes breaking skin.
When Nikki first came to us, many of our volunteers interacted with him frequently for the first couple of weeks. As time went on, however, Nikki proved to be more and more difficult, and is now placed on our high-maintenance list. Currently, Leyton is the only person to enter into his enclosure regularly. I’ve kept a relationship up with him, however, going in rarely, but mostly, through the fence. Nikki cracks me up, because at one moment, he is rubbing his body seductively up against the fence, soliciting for attention; the next moment, he is pouncing against it, barring his teeth, and growling what appears quite viciously.
The thing is, the more time I spend with him, the more I feel he’s like a teenage boy; he’s trying to seem all tough and macho, but in truth, he’s a big “scaredy-cat” who wants some attention but is timid at the sa
me time. It’s as though he’s protecting himself by sporadically surprising the person offering him attention.
In any event, Nikki and I have a new through-the-fence routine. Each afternoon, and sometimes in the mornings, I go up to Nikki’s fence-line and he begins our interactions. Sometimes, he starts by rolling against the fence, and I offer him all of the scratches and pets he can take. Other times, he begins by pounding the fence, and I stand, inches away (of course there’s a fence in between), lecturing him on proper social behavior.
I make no claims that Nikki understands the words I am using. But, amusingly enough, if I lecture him consistently and don’t show any intimidation, Nikki will eventually stop, look at me somewhat confused, and then begin ro
lling on the fence, asking for attention.
Nikki reminds me a lot of Luna, one of our other notoriously bi-polar residents. Luna’s eccentricity, however, is more of a product of abuse. Nikki, well, Nikki is just a wolf. He’s a fairly typical young, socialized male wolf just reaching maturity. But, what I learned with Luna, was if I could ignore the growling and snarling-- if I could take some bites (no matter how painful and even if some did break skin and leave permanent scarring) that after it was all said and done, I could build a relationship with that animal and give them exactly what they needed: Understanding, patience, affection, and the ability to be who they are while receiving all of it.
I by no means advocate this to the other volunteers. I may be totally off base. But, I think Nikki is deep down inside, a pretty lovable, friendly, and timid kind of guy. And one of these days, I’ll try the same routine without the fence line. We’ll see where it takes us from there.
ip at her, tearing her clothing and sometimes breaking skin.When Nikki first came to us, many of our volunteers interacted with him frequently for the first couple of weeks. As time went on, however, Nikki proved to be more and more difficult, and is now placed on our high-maintenance list. Currently, Leyton is the only person to enter into his enclosure regularly. I’ve kept a relationship up with him, however, going in rarely, but mostly, through the fence. Nikki cracks me up, because at one moment, he is rubbing his body seductively up against the fence, soliciting for attention; the next moment, he is pouncing against it, barring his teeth, and growling what appears quite viciously.
The thing is, the more time I spend with him, the more I feel he’s like a teenage boy; he’s trying to seem all tough and macho, but in truth, he’s a big “scaredy-cat” who wants some attention but is timid at the sa
me time. It’s as though he’s protecting himself by sporadically surprising the person offering him attention.In any event, Nikki and I have a new through-the-fence routine. Each afternoon, and sometimes in the mornings, I go up to Nikki’s fence-line and he begins our interactions. Sometimes, he starts by rolling against the fence, and I offer him all of the scratches and pets he can take. Other times, he begins by pounding the fence, and I stand, inches away (of course there’s a fence in between), lecturing him on proper social behavior.
I make no claims that Nikki understands the words I am using. But, amusingly enough, if I lecture him consistently and don’t show any intimidation, Nikki will eventually stop, look at me somewhat confused, and then begin ro
lling on the fence, asking for attention.Nikki reminds me a lot of Luna, one of our other notoriously bi-polar residents. Luna’s eccentricity, however, is more of a product of abuse. Nikki, well, Nikki is just a wolf. He’s a fairly typical young, socialized male wolf just reaching maturity. But, what I learned with Luna, was if I could ignore the growling and snarling-- if I could take some bites (no matter how painful and even if some did break skin and leave permanent scarring) that after it was all said and done, I could build a relationship with that animal and give them exactly what they needed: Understanding, patience, affection, and the ability to be who they are while receiving all of it.
I by no means advocate this to the other volunteers. I may be totally off base. But, I think Nikki is deep down inside, a pretty lovable, friendly, and timid kind of guy. And one of these days, I’ll try the same routine without the fence line. We’ll see where it takes us from there.
