Linnea

A tribute to Linnea, from volunteer Christine Anckner

“Our oldest wolf at Wolf Hollow, and my best friend in the entire world, is a wolf named Linnea!” That’s how I would introduce Linnea during presentations. A completely factual statement. Linnea was one in a million; in 13 years of volunteering at Wolf Hollow and visiting other facilities, I have never met another wolf like her. Curious, playful, full of mischief and joy. She hated rules, a character trait I found incredibly endearing but one which made her a challenging roommate for other wolves. She was nearly two years old when I began volunteering, and had the lightest spring in her step and brightest twinkle in her eye. Life was a game and we were all lucky to be playing it with her. Her sister and mother disagreed, but their corrections and squabbles did nothing to curb her enthusiasm or impish predilections. She just repeated the same behavior that got her into trouble in the first place and never really learned her lesson.

I used to tell people she was like a pixie; our Peter Pan wolf who just never grew up. She had the ability to brighten everyone’s day, and brought joy to everyone she interacted with. Especially her best friend and brother Argus, who was a cautious and anxious gentleman when she wasn’t around, would go from worried and skeptical to playful and silly the minute she hip checked him to initiate a game of “chase me, chase me!” Even her brother Grendel, a serious and disapproving wolf at the best of times, acted like a puppy in his final months of living with her. She was sunshine and flowers and green grass rolled into one. Spring incarnate. It was impossible to be worried or grumpy in her presence.

There are so many Linnea stories to share. Of the birds she caught, of the times she would attempt to steal the weedwhacker from us, of the way she would fearlessly investigate new environments when she transitioned between enclosure spaces, of the way she would chew her water, of the way she would pounce at shared fencelines to tease her neighbors, of the time she stomped her foot, peed on her raw diet and huffed at us until we fed her a deer leg, of the crabapples she would pluck from the trees and crunch on every November, and so much more. There were also belly rubs. Quiet afternoon naps in the sunshine. Footprints in the snow. Sharing breakfast sandwiches together. Birthday charcuterie boards we would create for her to enjoy (cheese and organ meats, YUM!). Pumpkins stuffed with meat that she would gently empty before bringing the used pumpkin, more or less intact, back to the gate as if to say, “please, I would like some more!” 

Never growing up doesn’t mean never growing old. And Linnea outlived all of her siblings to become very old indeed. She passed away two weeks before her 15th birthday, bathed in sunshine and surrounded by friends who loved her. Even at the end, she never lost the twinkle in her eye or her indomitable spirit. Our hearts are broken but it is important to remember how she taught us to savor life and let the good times roll.