I did my job. I lead my hoards of school kids through the facility and even gave presentations sympathetic to how wolves had been relentlessly persecuted by the ignorance and fear of Man. All the while Atalla was working her mental voodoo on me with the subtlety of a grand chess
master. Even with a herd of kids surrounding me, those brilliant and intense eyes of the Big Bad Wolf would suddenly focus on me and I was awed by the purity of the intelligence I saw there. There was such an intensity of profound meaning in those eyes that I could not help but to gradually become intrigued. Atalla was not just looking at me. She was reading me and it wasn’t just speculation on how good I might taste garnished with parsley! It is startling to come to a realization like this when the psychology being placed in effect is being utilized by a “lower form of life”. Having gotten my college degree in science, I’d like to think of myself as something of a pragmatist. As a wildlife artist, however, I have trained myself to recognize so as to replicate expression, emotion, and visual perception. There was no mistaking that this big gray wolf was analyzing me with a particularly Freudian interest! Daily! Every time I was in her proximity! She made gestures – none of which I understood on an intellectual level –subtle indications that impressed me as her own reassurances and unspoken invitations to something more than our“working relationship”. Wrapped up in all my literary research of wolves, I resisted. Atalla has a fine set of choppers and I had no intentions of misinterpreting anything about her! In time, however, I began to realize and to recognize tactics – although slightly altered – that I had once used in gentling and breaking horses. To my total disbelief and astonishment I came to know that Atalla was working on me with a patient tolerance and determination that I had once used to gain the trust of colts! Her patience was phenomenal and her intuitiveness concerning my fears, reluctance, and ignorance was becoming very apparent! She must have thought I was the slowest pupil she’d ever had to mentor!
 

  Being a hunter, and having a freezer full of game, I

hesitantly asked Mace if I could bring some tidbits to Atalla
from time to time. He agreed but warned me to use a fork
instead of fingers. It was almost a relief to discover that all my preconceived notions about wolves were not in error….. Atalla ate like a wolf!
  I spent a memorable, warm, and wonderful summer with Atalla and in that time I fell hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with her. Every day was a learning experience that she taught with a generosity of spirit that I grasped with a deepening appreciation that all profound thought need not be vocalized to be understood. Some things transcend the necessity of intellectualizing. It is a rare gift; an inexplicable presence and exchange that can only be understood by experiencing it. I could neverhave imagined myself cozying up to a “varmint”. Not in my wildest imagination. Wolves are the stuff nightmares are made from…until Professor Atalla slowly, patiently, meticulously peeled off the onion skin layers of my ignorance and replaced it with understanding. How she did it is still something of a marvel to me.