The nearby libraries often dole out free books to make room for newer additions. It was on one of these shelves that housed Part Wild by Ceiridwen Terrill. I picked it up, and my interest was piqued by the “IDIOT” scrawled next to the author’s name. This book must have really pissed someone off, I thought. It was a valid enough reason to snag it. I got around to reading it on a backpacking trip in the San Juan Mountains, accompanied by my little adventurer, Maia. Having my dog next to me while immersing myself in this story was an emotional rollercoaster. The impending doom is immediately felt in the opening pages, and as a reader, you know you are in for a ride.
The Book
A look at the story
Part Wild: Caught Between the World of Wolves and Dogs by Ceirdwen Terrill is a heartbreaking recollection. This memoir chronicles Ceiridwen Terrill’s tumultuous journey to raise a wolf-dog. Her intentions were driven by a need to protect herself after an abusive relationship, and a captivation of the wild spirit. Thus, Ceiridwen finds herself with Inyo, a part-husky part-wolf puppy. Oblivious to the extraordinary needs of a wolf-dog, Terrill bit off more than she could chew. In her attempt to raise a wolf-dog, Terrill intimately learns the differences between domestication and wild. Burdened by psychological turmoil and the mounting pressure of responsibility, Terrill finds herself caught in a cycle of damage control. Parts of the recollection are interwoven with well-researched findings about wolves, wolf-dogs, and cross-breeding. The challenges of declining wolf populations and the controversial solutions were addressed. As well as interviews with sanctuaries, previous wolf-dog owners, and scientists. This book evokes a newfound respect for this keystone species and offers anecdotes to underline the dangers of meddling with the wild.
The author
A look at the author
At the time of writing Part Wild, Ceiridwen Terrill was an associate professor of environmental journalism and science writing in Portland, Oregon, USA. Growing up in Oregon, Ceiridwen Terrill felt captivated by the wilderness, and throughout her writing, shares stories of her adventures in the backcountry. This lure of the wild is what eventually led her to adopt Inyo. While reading her memoir, it becomes evident that this period with Inyo was a turning point. Through this experience, Terrill became inspired to understand wolves and the domestication of animals from a scientific perspective. On top of writing her story about Inyo, Terrill shares valuable information to educate her readers about the incredible wolf species and the dangers of cross-breeding.
In order to write a memoir, you have to change and grow until the memoir writer and the person being written about are two different people. If I hadn’t grown and changed into a different person, I couldn’t have written this book.
-Ceiridwen Terrill, NW Book Lovers interview
Terrill is motivated by changing her trajectory and finding retribution for the grave mistakes made with Inyo. This ordeal serves as a cloak of shame that Terrill wears indefinitely. She exposes herself to the scrutiny of her readers to tell her story. To caution someone against going down this same road and prevent anguish. Or by instilling the need for humans to respect the wild. Ceiridwen Terrill uses her gift in writing, along with her dedication to this topic, to share her and Inyo’s story.
If you would like to learn more about Ceiridwen Terrill’s work on domestication, read here from a 2011 article she wrote about wolves in captivity.
Thoughts & Reflections
WARNING: some spoilers may be present
My connection to the story
In addition to boredom and loneliness, Inyo’s howling was provoked, I suspect, by anxiety. Wolves can hear up to ten miles in a clearing, six miles in a forest, so as a wolfdog living in a forest of buildings buzzing with human activity, Inyo could hear too much going on— human chatter, a game show on television, a man’s shout, highway traffic, a dog’s bark— the collecting rasping of souls living in that gambling town. Unable to explore the source of any of these noises, she may have been driven more than a little mad.
Whenever I read a book, whether it’s a memoir, a novel, or even a tantalizing nonfiction, I imagine myself at the center. It helps me connect and immerse myself in the writer’s perspective. Terrill wrote with so much emotion and nudity that it was easy for me to place myself in her shoes. I could understand the ferocity with which she loved her companion—the undying instinct to protect our voiceless loved ones. I could also relate to the mistakes naiveté and immaturity lead us to, and the vicious cycle of wanting to try again. However, there came a point where the well of sympathy ran dry, and I could no longer find common ground. It was difficult to find forgiveness or justification after each error, especially when at the expense of others.
Although it was difficult to muster mercy after each successive incident, I always managed to create it. I would like to believe I would have handled this situation any differently, but don’t we all think that way? It is simple for the reader, the passive observer, to cast judgments and assume they would be different. While retribution should be paid for the harm done to others, I don’t believe it is fair to hold her under so much fire. I imagined myself as the owner of the dog on the other end of Inyo’s prey drive. Or the hypothetical hiker who encountered an off-leash Inyo on her backcountry romp. Yet, at the same time, I could imagine myself wracked by guilt of bringing this creature into the situation. And the compulsive need to protect them. As well as the woman with the misunderstood companion who sees the softness when everyone else notices the teeth.
My views on the story
It just isn’t fair to compare the intelligence of wolves and dogs and conclude that dogs suffer from mental deficiency or perpetual adolescence. Wolves and dogs occupy different ecological niches— dogs in human society, wolves in the wild— and each niche requires a different set of skills to survive and succeed. Hungarian ethologist Ádám Miklósi put it this way: “I wouldn’t say one species is smarter. If you assume an animal has to survive without human presence, then wolves are smarter. But if you are thinking that dogs have to survive in a human environment where it’s very important to follow the communications of humans, then in this aspect, dogs are smarter.” Domestication has not dimmed dogs’ intelligence, only shaped it in complex ways.
To begin, it is difficult to articulate how I feel about this book. On the one hand, I am impressed by Terrill’s candidness and, dare I say, bravery, in sharing this experience. Her writing contained her vulnerability and rawness, without sugar-coating her grave transgressions. Yet, I found myself hating her at times as I read the repeated offenses. I was heartbroken to learn about the animals either mauled or killed by Terrill’s irresponsible handling of Inyo. Irritated to read about the precariousness with which she lived her life. There were moments I wanted to dive into the story to shake the author out of her stubbornness and irresponsibility. Overall, it became difficult to read about the graphic encounters with other pets and wildlife.
Ill comments aside, whether fairly placed or not, I feel struck by this story and grateful for the introduction to this world. It enabled me to contemplate the relationships humans have formed with other members of our kingdom. As well as envision ways for society to move toward a co-existence with nature and wildlife. In the end, I am touched by the allowance of her readers into, presumably, the hardest period of her life. I read this book as Terrill’s wish to make something right after the harm she caused—a way to educate and prevent others from making the same mistakes. Considering how deeply I carried this book around with me, she made her impact on me.
Closing thoughts
I would recommend this book to anyone thinking of finding a pet in a wolf-dog to learn a lesson without the heartache. It’s also a read for anyone who possesses the call of the wild and/or is interested in learning about wolves and domestication. Although a heartbreaking and, at times, infuriating book, it sat with me, and I am glad to have endured it. Given the references to backpacking and the wild, it is the perfect pack stuffer for a backpacking trip.
Join me in 2 weeks for another Backpackers Book Club commentary. Until then,
Happy Trails!
