Isabeau

sex: female
born: 01 April 2006
birth place: Oregon

given sanctuary: 02 September 2006

 

Isabeau's Story

Isabeau was born at a breeding facility in Oregon. She was reported to be a pure wolf and sold to an unsuspecting couple from California, when only a few weeks old. The instructions from the breeder on how to raise this pup were very limited and were not sufficient to insure her physical, emotional and mental well-being. In fact, only dietary suggestions were covered and those were sorely lacking.

By the age of 4 months, Isabeau was given up on by the couple and they were frantic to find her an appropriate living situation. She was food aggressive, played hard (like a wolf puppy), destroyed the things that humans consider valuable and there was some additional concern that wolves and wolf-dogs were not legal in their municipality. The final straw was when she bit a neighbor’s child while playing. It was very clear that this wolf was not a pet and needed much more than the current caretaker’s could provide. They put out the plea for a suitable home to the American Sanctuary Association, who in turn sent the alert to all of their accredited members, which include Wolf.

Wolf has always tried to save the limited space at the Sanctuary for those animals who could not be placed anywhere else. And we had been attempting to find a pure or high-content individual as a companion for Shaman. As the dynamics in the Wolf house pack had changed over the years, it became obvious that a younger, stronger and more playful Shaman, needed a companion closer to his own size and energy level. There were, at this time, only two older females in the house pack for him to play with and they were both half his size. Although the quest had started almost a year before and there had been many good prospects, none ever seemed to pan out.

Based on photos and the description of her personality, it appeared that she would be ideal for Shaman. A date was set for her to be transferred to Wolf’s care. The location would be half way between the Bay Area in California and Fort Collins, Colorado -- Wendover, Nevada. Wendover? Where the heck is Wendover? The exchange would be made at 9 am. This would require the Wolf rescue team to leave at midnight.

The day arrived, Saturday September 2nd, and the team was in action. The following account, by Brandy Russell, our Volunteer Coordinator, chronicles their adventure.

After a long day at work Friday, a quick nap in the evening and a knock on my door at midnight my Saturday began. Steve was here and the trip was on. Steve started driving and headed for I-80 and then west through Wyoming. Without notable events and having slept on and off in the car I started driving around 3:30 am.

It’s amazing how few cars there are on the highway in the middle of the night. Even the truck drivers had pulled off to sleep, but we had a schedule to keep. We saw the sunrise over Salt Lake City and continued our journey to the state line and Wendover. We found the casino where we were meeting them and called to see where they were. As it turns out the time changes at the state line and he wasn’t planning on being there until 9 am Pacific Time.

Groggily, we headed to the nearest fast-food restaurant to eat some breakfast. Another phone call revealed that he was running late and would probably be another hour. When he finally showed up I was shocked to see that he had traveled with the pup in the back of an open-bed pickup with a travel kennel bungeed to the bed. The kennel was so small for her that she was folded up inside. Once we got her set­tled in our much larger crate she started giving kisses. No matter how exhausted you are, puppy kisses have a way of making everything bet­ter. She curled up and slept almost the entire trip.

I’ve never been so excited to see La Porte, because it meant we were almost home and it was getting dark. When we arrived at Wolf at 7:30 pm, the other animals had been kept out of the front enclosure so she could have some time to take in her new surroundings. She was given a quick physical exam and was extremely skinny. We could feel every rib and her hips were much too apparent. She also had a patch of fur missing from the nap of her neck. She supposedly lost it being ‘trained’ with a harness, but our belief was that she was probably chained by that harness. Otherwise she seemed to be a long, lanky, high-energy puppy.

She met Shaman at the gate separating the enclosure and all seemed to go well. We decided to let him in to see her as they were going to have to meet nose to nose before either would calm down. Shaman was not impressed initially and showed a lot of fangs. She was so exuberant it seemed to be a little overwhelming for him. He has grown accustomed to lazy naps in the sun, which came to an end the minute she showed up. So eager to play she kept pulling his tail. I don’t think anyone ever taught her that this is not how you get an Arctic wolf to like you.

Or, maybe it is -- Shaman warmed up to her and started play­ing back. It was nerve-racking, but thankfully ended well. After several hours of playing she slept most of the next day until we went up into the enclosure to check on her. She has a strong personality and is con­stantly exploring her surroundings; she would never have been happy as a pet.

Even though it was a tiring whirlwind trip, it was worth it to see how excited she was to see her new home and pack mates. I would do it again in a heartbeat just to see that look in another animal’s eyes.

It then appeared, after doing blood tests and reading the instructions given to the old caretakers by the breeder, that she was being under-nourished, was dehydrated and had signs of kidney issues. She was immediately treated for those ailments and put on a good diet. She has been progressing well and recovered just fine.

Although her original name was Roxy and we usu­ally do not change those names, she was not answering to it. No one could come up with a new name that seemed to fit. It somehow came out that she would be Shaman’s new squeaky toy. When Shaman was small he loved his squeaky toys and would play with them for hours. “Squeak” became her interim name. Although her formal name, Isabeau, was determined by vote of the volunteers present at the annual volunteer picnic, she is still being called Squeak by many.

 

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