I celebrate wolves not only for their amazing beauty and superior intelligence in the animal world— including their familial and social devotion to the pack, but also for their wildness, for their belonging to the wilderness, for the fact that they can not be "tamed" to be a domestic pet.

The Eskimos and Indians didn't kill wolves or see them as evil beings. They respected, even revered them.

They felt close to the land as the wolves did. Some people want to kills wolves not just because they sometimes threaten livestock but because they are seen as dangerous.

Wolves were scapegoated and still are, by some human beings, maybe who are afraid of wilderness, afraid of what can't be tamed or subjugated.

I love and honor wolves for many reasons. Because they have been scapegoated by people, and killed out of vengeance and ignorance. Because they are dedicated to one another as a pair.

They are tender with their offspring even when they play rough. They are loyal.

The only have one mate. In ways the are like the better angels in us. Wolves not so long ago and still in the present are killed for pleasure or out of fear.

It has to do with ignorance, and fear of the beast in oneself. People sometimes measure progress by destruction of wilderness, wilderness seen as godless rather than being created by god and deserving to be revered.

Wilderness is a source of joy to be preserved rather than to be destroyed. For those who appreciate wilderness and nature, wolves are apart of us—our brothers and sisters in nature.