A pill story

In the first week of March I found myself in one of those situations which is nearly impossible to explain or justify to people who don't understand wolf behaviour. What happened was roughly this: Late one Saturday afternoon, one of our keepers noticed Peyto having a pee - and passing what looked like pure blood. I was there within 30 minutes and decided to call the vet immediately. As it was past closing time at the vet's it was Amanda, the vet on emergency call out who responded. While we waited for her to arrive, we coaxed Peyto into the harstanding and it was clear that he was in considerable pain. I took it in turns with another handler to keep him company and it was getting dark by the time the vet arrived.

We then found that we had two problems. Firstly, what with it being the breeding season and Amanda being a FEMALE and not entirely used to handling randy wolves, it was difficult for her to do very much with Peyto. Injections were abandoned and it was decided to start him on a course of oral anti-inflammatories and anti-biotics immediately. That exposed our second problem - Peyto had only been fed a few hours before and was obviously off his food anyway. Several experiments in hiding pills in various kinds of food failed. Normally Peyto would expertly extract the pill, spit it out and swallow the food but this time he didn't even want the food.

Nothing for it but to put the pills down his throat by hand (blowpipes are out - he would just grab them and chew them). I've done this a few times before with both wolves and it's really not difficult. Just make a game out of getting the mouth open and use one finger swiftly to poke the pill down the back of the throat. Easy. Well, the first one was; I got the antibiotic down him with a cuddle and a smile but the anti-inflammatories … no way!

As I stood there, wondering what on earth to try next, Cheza sautered up to the wire and accused Peyto of cuddle hijacking - a serious wolf crime. Peyto, of course responded by telling Cheza where to shove it and produced the most wonderful snarl. I snatched the opportunity, with Peyto's teeth bared in a mask of murderous threat, to slip my hand between them, inside his mouth and push the pills - rolled into a marble-sized ball of cheese - to the back of his throat. Another smile and cuddle and it was all over.

Try explaining to Mr. Average that you can safely put your hand into the mouth of a wolf at all and you'll be into an uphill argument. Most people seeing my hand in the mouth of a wolf which was pulling the sort of face they only see in nightmares, would say I was lucky to get out alive. Wrong! This is where a little understanding goes a long way. I was in no danger at all. Wolf social aggression is tightly focussed and Peyto's threat - and it was only a threat - was directed exclusively at Cheza, not me. To his way of thinking I was simply a non-combatant pack-member bystander and any mouth contact with me would be subject to the strict rules of social bite inhibition. And indeed, it was so.

It is at times like this that one is left in awe of wolves' gentleness and civility. Peyto, in some degree of pain, had put up with me palpating his abdomen, pulling his scruff and messing around with his mouth. The worst response he produced was a minor, mouthy warning snap at one point while I had hold of his scruff - gentle and specifically controlled not to break the skin. I have known humans with a mere headache to lash out harder than that and for less reason.

Anyway, the diagnosis was a urinary tract infection and it is not uncommon for animals to pass a blood clot in this condition - it looks very dramatic but it's not quite as serious as it looks.

Peyto finished his course of pills, recovered his appetite and forgot the whole thing .. as wolves do.