by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Now, they want to clip the ears of the Gray Wolf, clip them back until the wolves are almost decimated, weakening their packs to almost extinction. The native tribes of Wisconsin and Montana have stood up for the wolf. They see themselves parallel to the wolf. They too were killed back to almost extinction, starved and hounded, brothers to the wolf in life and suffering. The hunters carry away the great, large bodies of wolves in their arms, laughing as they go. I remember the Gray Wolf that morning as he rolled down a steep embankment, looking like a great ball of white and gray fur, laughing as he went.
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