The Wolf Preservation Blog

Warning:  Graphic photo below but this is what will be happening……

  (Photo provided by Tim Woody)

“This is no way to see a beautiful animal. We were rambling across the Portage flats in search of a decent trail on Saturday when my friend Mark stopped at the edge of a copse of alders. A few feet into the brush, a large, healthy wolf lowered itself back to the snow, exhausted and in pain, its right front leg crushed by a steel-jawed trap. The wolf’s struggle was evident for yards around the wooden post to which the trap was anchored. Trampled snow was covered with splintered wood, chunks of ice, and blood spatters. But this once-powerful animal was done fighting. Its eyes watched us, but it was too tired to hold its head up and track our movements. Its breathing was shallow. We wondered how long it had been there facing its slow, painful death. There is no state law mandating how frequently trappers must check their traplines. We wished we had a pistol, because the scene in front of us was one of dreadful suffering. A merciful bullet would have made everyone feel better. There was nothing we could do except spare the wolf further anxiety by continuing on our way. Later, as we returned to our vehicle, we saw two men with rifles as they carried game bags full of snowshoe hares back to their truck. They agreed to follow Mark’s directions to the wolf, in hope of putting it out of its misery. The scene haunted our group of four for the rest of the day. We all hoped the hunters had found it. I’m not a big softy when it comes to animals. I don’t much care for dogs or cats, and I never met a juicy steak I didn’t like. If I put a PETA sticker on my truck, it would be the one bearing fine print that says, “People Eating Tasty Animals.” I’ve clubbed my share of salmon, and the only reason I don’t shoot a moose every fall is that it takes too much vacation time I’d rather spend doing something else. But I believe in killing humanely. And what I saw on the Portage flats was anything but humane. I briefly tried trapping while growing up in the Midwest, but stopped after finding it needlessly cruel. When my rifle killed an animal, death came quickly. But when one of my traps caught one, the animal suffered until I returned or an opportunistic coyote stepped in. Either way, it didn’t seem ethical. Trapping has a long history in this state, and many people bemoan the loss of traditions they identify with being “a real Alaskan.” Questioning the morality of trapping is a sure-fire way to incur the wrath of those who value the right to keep doing it. But we no longer live in a world where our winter survival is dependent on wrapping ourselves in the fur of other mammals. Fur trappers today kill for money that, ultimately, is paid for the sake of fashion. And fur is usually worn by people who never see the blood. Maybe it’s time to ask if the leghold trap is an anachronism. As my friends and I stood in the snow and looked at that dying wolf, none of us—not even the hunter who is a lifelong Alaskan—felt pride in an Alaska tradition. We just felt pity. And anger.”

—Special Thanks to Tim Woody, editor of Alaska magazine, for providing this information (http://www.alaskamagazine.com/blogs/trapped)