The Wolfdog Makes A Resurgence
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by Amy Fernandez
There was dancing in the streets back in 1988 when wolves were declared a protective species throughout the EU bloc, which currently comprises 28 nations. At that point a few packs existed in remote corners of the continent, but from a practical standpoint, Europe had seen the last of them a century earlier. Good news is that conservation programs have been a resounding success. Against all odds, wolves quickly rebounded throughout the continent. Bad news… comparable to the varying success of the Euro, the ability to manage this happy development depends on each country’s infrastructure and political agenda.
Keep in mind that politics were instrumental in the wolf’s demise. Hunting was sanctioned, and frequently supported by government subsidies and bounties. Official encouragement undoubtedly pushed it along – although wolf eradication never lacked popular support. Times change, along with attitudes about wildlife. However, Europe seems to be getting an unexpected, blunt reminder about those good old days when wolves roamed freely, galvanizing human fears and inspiring grisly fairytales along the way.
More specifically, its wolf renaissance is having an unanticipated impact on multiple aspects of life, such as its billion Euro tourist industry. France doesn’t have the biggest wolf population, but it remains the world’s top tourist destination. Spain and Italy, also home to thriving wolf revivals, rank third and fifth respectively.
The first pair migrated to France from Italy in 1992. They founded a population that now exceeds 250 and is estimated to grow by 20 percent annually. Spain has become a genuine wolf stronghold with over 250 packs comprise of more than 2,000 individuals. At least six of those groups have settled into the Guadarrama hills 40 miles outside of Madrid. Last month a wolf was tracked 30 miles from Holland’s densely populated North Sea coast. They have also been documented less than 25 miles outside of Rome, Athens, and Berlin. Germany’s wolves disappeared in the 19th century. They’re back…Brandenburg alone is home to 17 packs. Overall, Europe’s wolf population has quadrupled in the past decade. Depending on who you ask, it now ranges from 12,000-25,000 along with a healthy assortment of other predator species.
Essentially, land sharing protocols are designed to foster peaceful coexistence between humans and predators. And according to this theory, wolves should prefer territories with low human population densities like less than 37 humans per square kilometer. Okay…
Conservationists marveled as wolves quickly settled into high density suburban areas with over 3000 humans per sq. km. But they should have known better. Like dogs, wolves have never been resistant to setting up camp next door to humans. Canids earned their evolutionary stripes long before the last Ice Age when they emerged in various incarnations and proceeded to dominate multiple continents thanks to their unparalleled resilience and resourcefulness. Their biggest ongoing competitor at the top of the food chain was that pesky human species. Neither one had much respect for territorial boundaries. A few years back, that tendency triggered a little evolutionary development known as domestication.
That was then, and now, unfortunately, rising carnivore populations are testing the limits of this theoretical truce of separate happy camps. Like most things, it looks good on paper. Then life intervenes to screw up the plan.
Among other things, Europe’s wolf population spiked after the collapse of the Soviet Union, which ended state-sponsored culls that kept Russia’s wolves in check. Thriving packs soon migrated into remote, newly protected areas of Poland, Germany and Scandinavia. The recession also gave wolf repopulations an unexpected boost as large swatches of abandoned towns and villages invited wildlife to reestablish domains they hadn’t occupied for centuries. The recession also left less money to monitor these developments and scant resources to cope with them.
So far, grandma hasn’t become a casualty of wolf repatriation, but quite a few pets have become collateral damage, which somewhat undermines official assurances that everything is goin’ great. Along with missing pets, the land sharing theory didn’t address the possibility of interspecies romance. So, along with wolves, Europe has also become home to the fastest growing wolf-hybrid population.
Hybrids have exacerbated the primary issue of rising livestock casualties. Government payouts for losses have grown exponentially with wolf recovery, but in terms of actual compensation, it’s usually too little too late. Today, herding and farming are fringe professions. Losing 10 or 20 animals may not sound like a financial catastrophe, but that is frequently the case.
Compensation rates vary by region, but one consistent factor is the yearlong wait for government-issued checks. And like everything else, these programs have fallen victim to Europe’s endless recession. For instance, full compensation for wolf damage has always been the official policy in Greece. Well…. try taking that (or anything else) to the bank there these days. Likewise, government allotments for recommended wolf control measures have slowed to a trickle. That monetary shortage hasn’t incentivized the installation of expensive and variably effective security cameras, electric fencing, experimental deterrents, and monitoring technology.
Some renegade countries have adopted a more direct approach thus incurring the simultaneous wrath of EU bureaucrats and animal rights militants. Last year Sweden’s government hunt culled 44 of the country’s estimated 450 wolves (far below conservationists’ target population of 3000), which suggests that this situation isn’t likely to improve soon.
A few desperate landowners have resorted to illegal measures like trapping, shooting, and poisoning. Prosecutors, in turn, are responding with harsh sentences meant to deter violators. Instead, it’s intensified the general sense of persecution from predators and their conservationist/political proponents, as well as the panicked realization that everyone is pretty much to their own device to find effective, legally permissible solutions.
I guess you know where this is leading.
Ironically, wolf preservation has prompted a rollout of long forgotten, flock guardian breeds. About a thousand years ago, livestock put Europe on the fast track to economic supremacy as it emerged from the dark ages, an era when wolf populations reached an all-time high throughout the continent. Today’s situation pales in comparison to that rather challenging era, as David Hancock noted in his 1984 treatise Old Working Dogs. He wrote, “Apart from the depredations of human sheep stealers and starving stray dogs, wolves also threatened flocks and shepherd dogs had to be guardians as well as herders.” The ensuing agricultural renaissance that made Europe an economic powerhouse hinged on cutting-edge, selective breeding that produced hundreds of fine-tuned regional variations for every type of climate, terrain, and working challenge.
From the Iberian Peninsula and southwest Europe came the Estrela Mountain Dog, Rafeiro do Alentejo of Portugal, Estremadura Mastiff, Cao de Castro Laboreiro, Cao da Serra de Estrela, and Cao de Gado Transmontano. Countless Malinois, Bouvier and Hovawart variations were developed throughout Central Europe. The Mallorquin Shepherd of the Western Mediterranean, the Maremma Sheepdog of Italy, and Illyrian Sheepdog of Macedonia are just a few notables that emerged from that part of the region. Likewise, along with better-known Polish and Hungarian breeds like the Kuvaz and Komondor, Eastern Europe produced an incredible array of specialized flock guardians like the Karst Shepherd, Liptok, Tornjak, Sar Tip, and Tatra Mountain Sheepdog.
Every country and every region now facing this bizarre challenge had, at some point in its history, a breed ideally suited to confront that problem. As herders rediscover this ancient solution, these obscure native breeds are suddenly in high demand. Managing a modest flock of 500 sheep requires approximately four or five dogs, and that’s become a whole new issue. Hancock says, “The modern list of Kennel Club-recognized breeds bears no relation to the rich heritage of local variety once found in pastoral dogs.” To make his point, he mentions many that have disappeared.
As Europe’s status as an agricultural superpower steadily diminished, wolf control ceased to be a major initiative. Consequently, after almost a thousand years of ostensible job security, most of these breeds were phased out of production. As Hancock notes, none would probably exist now if not for the emergence of purebred ideology in the 19th century. Only that slender thread ensured the survival of a few of them, which now represent the sole source of these ancient, newly relevant breeds that just might be the key to Europe’s spiraling conservation mess.
This is especially ironic considering that Europe has mounted the world’s most vociferous anti-purebred movement. A major talking point of their propaganda has been the incessant characterization of purebred dogs as an outmoded, useless anachronism. Moreover, these are the same groups currently advocating that idealized back-to-basics agricultural lifestyle–and refusing to concede that blossoming wolf populations may pose a threat to their ideological fantasy.
Of course, dog people are accustomed to contending with absurdities like this movement. Our dogs keep us anchored to reality. But once in a while, we should pat ourselves on the back for keeping the faith in the midst of this irrational nonsense.
Short URL: https://caninechronicle.com/?p=92963
Posted by ralbee
on Nov 19 2015. Filed under Current Articles, Editorial, Featured.
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