The Wuff with the Smooth: Stories without Waffle Vol 2

Have you ever been to Wild Ireland? It’s near Burnfoot in Donegal and it’s a great day out altogether.

There are badgers, bears, bats and barn owls – as well as other animals which don’t begin with the letter ‘b.’

“Our ongoing mission is to rescue and rehabilitate animals needing sanctuary and help restore our natural environment through native planting,” the blurb on their website explains. “We aim to inspire young people to be the conservationists of the future through educating our guests on local and global conservation issues.”

Our clan recently took a trip to Wild Ireland and all told, it was mighty fun.

A leisurely stroll across a couple of hours, we ambled our way through the leafy park stopping here and there to gaze in wonder at some of the denizens detendu. The foxes were oddly amazing – maybe because any time I see one in the wild they’re dashing through a field at high speed or flattened rigor mortis on a road – and the brown bears were beyond spectacular in their girth. The badgers too were wonderful, one of which was stretched out behind a glass wall snoring for all he was worth, apparently without a care in the world. However, of all the animals in Wild Ireland, the wolves were the most arresting.

Startlingly large and roiling with athleticism, the wolves veritably shone with vitality and the look in their eyes translated into one word: Intelligence. It’s rare to see these animals at such close quarters of course but as they coursed through their expansive paddock I couldn’t help but look on in awe. Belatedly, I have come to understand only too well why Canis lupus has been so revered – and feared – throughout history.

All the while, as we wandered through the park, I wondered what Waffle would have made of the place. How would he have fared with seeing the foxes or smelling the bears or witnessing the majesty of the wolves? I concluded that he would have been so excited he would likely have peed his way around the whole park, whilst discovering a new pitch to his ever-present whine, possibly – and hopefully – one which wouldn’t have been discernible to the human ear.

Anyways…

As a person approaches the wolf enclosure, there are signs warn-ing against howling at the big carnivores.

Apparently wolves howl for three reasons: First to mark their territory, second as a form of communication and third to have a sing-song in terms of social bonding.

The reason, therefore that Wild Ireland asks that people not to howl at the wolves is because the wolves would then assume that there are other wolves in the territory and correspondingly, posing a threat. In turn, this results in stress.

Also, as anyone who has watched Disney’s ‘Zootropolis’ will know, by dint of howling at the wolves, they will respond in kind and howl right back at you.

That sound of a pack of wolves howling is one of the most evocative and primal sounds in the animal kingdom. It’s the sort of sound that would make the hair stand on the back of your neck – and I dread to think what effect it would have if you were hearing it at night – and alone.

Personally, I have never heard a wolf howling in real life but one day, I would like to feel those hairs rise and audibly bask in the majesty of the ancient echoes.

And so, standing at the wolf enclosure at Wild Ireland, looking on at these magnificent, regal, dignified creatures, not starting a howl was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.