Wolfie in the Window I: How some wolves became man’s best friend

And they’re also the silly furry mutts we belly rub at home and babble toddler gibberish to as they go into paroxysms of wriggly joy and delight. Surely, this switcheroo is worse than any politician changing ideologies! And how did this radical transformation come about? It’s thought that somewhere between 25,000 and 40,000 years ago, wolf packs discovered that humans were becoming pretty good at bringing down big game. So good, perhaps, that there were always plenty of leftovers, for man cannot live by meat alone (as wolves can). So, they hung about human campsites, cleaning up the leftovers — no doubt that was noticed. No one knows how the first tidbit off the dining table was offered or who was responsible, but this obviously happened — and since then, this (deplorable, drool-causing) practice has become well-entrenched. The wolves that hung around our campsites were good guards — because they had a vested interest now in protecting their source of easy-to-get goodies: us. Besides, who’d want to risk being kicked in the face by a moose if you can get a leftover haunch, rare, well-done, or medium-served to you?

And no, it wasn’t the big “dada” bullies of the pack that benefitted most from this munificence. The aggressive alphas probably would bite off the hands that fed them, if at all they deigned to accept an offering — and get stoned for their ingratitude. It was the middle- and low-rankers of the pack which had manners; they would ask politely, by whining, perhaps, and wag their tails in gratitude and appreciation. They were the ones we liked and took to our bosoms, and began realising the true potential of, as our companions and forever friends.

They could manipulate us with puppy-dog eyes and frantic licking and blurring tails. (Photo: Ranjit Lal)

Then the inevitable split occurred; wild wolves went their own way, roaming the forests with their fearsome reputation intact and the meeker ones became dogs and went with us, though both shared a common ancestor. A genetic twitch that made the transformation complete and permanent was that while true wolves would always stare at you steadfastly, dogs were able to raise their eyebrows and make big (innocent, but usually humbug) eyes at you. Soon, their ability to communicate and understand us evolved to a degree far superior to that of what our closest relatives — the chimpanzees — could achieve. And along with them we evolved, too: while they could recognise our moods, whether we were angry, sad or happy, we, too, could immediately tell — from their bark — whether they were angry, wanted a game or were just being a pain in the butt! They could manipulate us with puppy-dog eyes and frantic licking and blurring tails as we could, by simple bribery (something at which we excel), to the benefit of both! On both sides, this has apparently happened at the genetic level: when we look deep and meaningfully into our pet’s eyes, it releases oxytocin — the hormone famous for encouraging maternal bonding — in both parties! Which, I suppose, is responsible for all the silly goo-goo ga-ga mushy baby talk that gushes forth when we are (usually alone) with our pets. I can’t think of a single other animal (or human, for that matter) that you can yell at for filching your sandwich or peeing on the carpet, leave home alone all day and forget its birthday, who will greet you back home with paroxysms of joy at the end of the day. No sulks, (well, maybe, for 10 minutes, perhaps), no tantrums — and no grudges held: just unbridled affection upfront.

Their wild cousins, alas, have not done nearly so well. They’re still hunted, persecuted, feared, and, often, accused of being child-lifters and not in the Rudyard Kipling or Romulus-Remus kind of way. Their numbers are declining. And yet, in the wild they are invaluable — as the recent experiences in Yellowstone National Park in the US have shown. Hunted to extinction there, grey wolves (from which all dogs have descended) were reintroduced as the elk in the park had been laying to waste everything, and breeding like flies, skewing the natural balance to a tipping point. With wolves around, the natural balance and the landscape have been restored. In many countries, wolves are still hunted ruthlessly charged with livestock slaughter. In India, they have been accused of child-lifting — though, of course, the number of children so “taken” are minuscule compared to the number of children human adults “lift” every year. The Indian wolf is leaner, and less furry, than its international cousin, the grey wolf — because of the climate — though its reputation for cunning remains intact.

Wolves, the world over, need protection while pet dogs, if anything, are over-pampered to a ridiculous degree. But then again, not all dogs are treated equally, some are more equal than others. Exactly how we’ve treated that “wolfie in the window” and vice versa, which we’ll see in the next column.