Wolves and monkeys

As well as hav­ing com­plex re­la­tion­ships with their own spe­cies, wolves also have in­triguing re­la­tion­ships with oth­er wild animals.

Most of these re­la­tion­ships re­volve around prey. Ravens fol­low wolves to scav­enge their kills and it’s be­lieved they also lead wolves to prey so they will have some­thing to scavenge.

Bears, es­pe­cially grizz­lies, chase wolves off a kill so they can chow down on the car­cass. Sometimes, one wolf will taunt the bear while oth­ers dart in to grab a piece of meat.

These ex­changes ap­pear fe­ro­cious but rarely lead to in­jury for the wolves or bears. And of­ten, even though they killed the prey, wolves will just lie down nearby and wait for whatever scraps the bear leaves behind.

But wolves and mon­keys? That re­la­tion­ship was un­heard of un­til a couple of years ago when re­search­ers ob­served Ethiopian wolves hunt­ing for ro­dents — and hav­ing more suc­cess — when they were among a troop of ge­lada mon­keys, a type of baboon.

The wolves wandered through large groups of six to sev­en hun­dred ge­la­das, with the prim­ates show­ing no fear even when the pred­at­ors were very close. And even though the wolves were per­fectly cap­able of killing baby ge­la­das, they rarely did.

The wolves al­ways mingled with the mon­keys dur­ing mid­day when ro­dents in the area were most act­ive. Researchers spec­u­late that the graz­ing mon­keys dis­turb the ro­dents, mak­ing it easi­er for wolves to hunt them, and that the wolves de­lib­er­ately avoid harm­ing the mon­keys to take ad­vant­age of this opportunity.

Photo by Jeffrey Kerby taken in the Guassa Community Reserve, Menz Region of the cent­ral high­lands of Ethiopia.

Red wolf DNA found in Texas canids

Red wolves were de­clared ex­tinct in the wild by 1980. Formerly ran­ging through­out south cent­ral and east­ern por­tions of the US, hunt­ing, trap­ping and loss of hab­it­at decim­ated their numbers.

Luckily, the US Fish and Wildlife Service cap­tured about forty of the wolves and began a cap­tive breed­ing pro­gram. Red wolf fam­il­ies and in­di­vidu­als were re­leased and cap­tive-born pups were suc­cess­fully cross-fostered in wil­der­ness areas of North Carolina from the late 1980s on.

According to Regina Mossotti, dir­ect­or of an­im­al care and con­ser­va­tion at the Endangered Wolf Center in Missouri, in early 2018 there were ap­prox­im­ately 230 red wolves in cap­tive breed­ing pro­grams but pop­u­la­tions in the wild had dropped from over 100 to around thirty.

Coyotes are found in many urb­an and rur­al areas of North America. Photo cour­tesy US National Park Service

But a few years ago, bio­lo­gist Ron Wooten no­ticed some­thing odd about the coyotes he was pho­to­graph­ing on Galveston Island in Texas. When he found two of the an­im­als dead on the road­side, he took some samples hop­ing ge­net­ic test­ing would provide some answers.

Researchers at Princeton University were shocked to find a piece of en­dangered red wolf gen­ome in the tis­sue they ana­lysed. The ge­net­ic evid­ence in­dic­ates that at least some of the Galveston Island ‘coyotes’ ap­pear to be red wolf/​coyote hybrids.

Red wolves (and east­ern wolves, which primar­ily in­hab­ited south­east­ern Canada and the north­east­ern US and are now only found in south­ern Ontario and Quebec) will in­ter­breed with coyotes when their pop­u­la­tions fall be­low a sus­tain­able level.

Still, re­search­ers were sur­prised to find red wolf DNA on an is­land in Texas. And the Galveston Island can­ids are unique in that they pos­sess some red wolf genes not found in the cap­tive population.

Challenges to re­in­tro­du­cing red wolves to wil­der­ness areas con­tin­ue and they may once again be de­clared ex­tinct in the wild.

The Endangered Species Act does not in­clude pro­tec­ted status for hy­brids but some sci­ent­ists feel this think­ing is out­dated, es­pe­cially since hy­brid­isa­tion does not seem to be as rare as pre­vi­ously thought.

But even if the Galveston Island can­ids do not re­ceive pro­tec­ted status, their pres­ence is a test­a­ment to the re­si­li­ency of wolves and opens the door to fur­ther dis­cus­sions on the status of hybrids.

Top im­age: Red wolves are lean an­im­als with a dis­tinct red­dish cast to their coats. They’re in between the size of a grey wolf and coyote. Photo cour­tesy B. Bartel, USFWS

Wolf paws

Wolf paws are the found­a­tion for the carnivore’s every move­ment. They carry the pred­at­or across rugged ter­rain, serve as snow­shoes in deep snow and provide trac­tion on icy sur­faces. And the heavy pad­ding means a wolf can move across the land­scape as si­lent as a cloud.

Of course, if a wolf is trav­el­ling across rocky ground or a paved road, their nails may click against the hard sur­face. Wolves have four toes on each paw, as well as an­oth­er toe, the dew claw high­er up on the front legs.

The struc­tur­al dy­nam­ic of in­ward-turn­ing el­bows and out­ward-turn­ing paws res­ults in a highly ef­fi­cient gait that puts little or no stress on the shoulders. And webbed toes mean wolves are cap­able of ford­ing rivers, lakes and even up to thir­teen kilo­metres (eight miles) of open-ocean.

Wolves pos­sess an in­tern­al tem­per­at­ure reg­u­la­tion sys­tem that pre­vents their toes from freez­ing in north­ern loc­a­tions. They also have scent glands between their toes, al­low­ing oth­er wolves to know if it was a friend or foe that passed by.

Wolf paw prints are gen­er­ally re­cog­nis­able due to their size – about 7.610 cm (3 — 4 inches) wide and 8.9 — 11.4 cm (3.5 to 4.5 inches) long on an adult. Some dogs, such as Great Danes or Blood hounds have tracks that are longer than wolves but most dog paw prints are smal­ler and rounder.

Coyotes have smal­ler tracks than most dogs and wolves. Young wolf pups’ paws grow in­cred­ibly quickly so, even at three months old, most wolves have lar­ger feet than an adult coyote.

Image cour­tesy Montana Fish and Wildlife

Top photo iStock/​Ramiro Marquez

What wolves eat

As car­ni­vores, wolves will eat any­thing from a mouse to a moose in­clud­ing grasshop­pers, birds and frogs.  Although wild wolves will oc­ca­sion­ally eat ber­ries, their bod­ies re­quire meat to survive.

As Jack London wrote in White Fang, a story about a wolf-dog hy­brid, “The aim of life was meat. Life it­self was meat.”

Most wolves ob­tain their meat from un­gu­lates such as deer, elk, moose, bison and muskox­en. While it’s dan­ger­ous hunt­ing large an­im­als with horns and hooves, the huge food re­ward is worth the ef­fort and risk of in­jury or even death. On the oth­er hand, it takes a lot of mice to fill a wolf’s belly and the en­ergy ex­pen­ded is of­ten great­er than the cal­or­ies gained.

While most wolves de­pend on un­gu­lates for their susten­ance, some eat a lot of fish. This has been re­cor­ded through­out the world and of­ten in­volves fish trav­el­ling up­stream to spawn.

This wolf caught 15 sock­eye sal­mon in one hour in Brooks River, Alaska. Photo cour­tesy Paul Stinsa

But some wolves rely heav­ily on fish and mar­ine-re­lated an­im­als year-round. In fact, wolves on some British Columbia coastal is­lands primar­ily eat sal­mon, seals and shell­fish, as well as mink and Canada goose eggs. They will even move rocks at low tide to eat tiny mol­luscs called chitons. Wolves on out­er is­lands may sel­dom – if ever – see a deer.

 

Wolves aren’t picky about their food. They may cache some meat and dig it up for din­ner later, as well as scav­enge prey that has died of nat­ur­al causes or been killed by oth­er animals.

They can eas­ily be­come used to the easy pick­ings found at un­se­cured hu­man garbage dumps and will raid camp­sites or break into tents and kayak holds to check out hu­man food. Although they prob­ably won’t eat much of the food they find this way, they will bite into whatever they can ac­cess to check it out.

At times, wolves also kill and eat live­stock and pets, which is the ma­jor source of their con­flict with humans.

Top photo was taken on Ellesmere Island in the high arc­tic where wolves prey on hares and muskox­en. Photo cour­tesy Dave Mech