I don’t know what is the saddest part of this story – is it a son fearing his alpha-male father, is it the wolf biting a host of people and being put to death or is it the fact that a wild animal was raised in captivity in an environment that could only have caused it massive frustration?

Scratch that it’s obviously the last one, the biting an obvious and inevitable byproduct of someone keeping an animal when they are ill-equipped to do so. Four-year-old Gavin Jenkins was elated when his father added a wolf to his team of six huskies on the family estate in Pittsburgh, but things quickly went south as the family struggled to domesticate the wild animal.

Here’s Vice’s account of a failed attempt to turn Dusty the wolf into a pet the whole family could enjoy:

Dusty bit me the day we met. It was spring, 1985. My brothers, TJ and Aaron, were eight and six, respectively, and Dad had gathered us in Mom’s backyard to play with the cub. Mom lived on a hilltop overlooking Allegheny River, and the yard sloped gradually. At three months old, Dusty wobbled and fell, but once he got going, he charged. “Don’t run!” Dad warned me. Ignoring his command, I tried to flee and Dusty chomped down on my ass. Mom, who believed her ex-husband when he said the cub was half-German Shepard, rubbed the bruise. Dad wasn’t as moved by my tears…

Dad lined him up with several teams, and when Dusty pulled the sled, he was stronger than all the dogs combined. But unlike our huskies, who instinctively wanted to run, Dusty usually trotted, and afterward, he’d tear his harness to shreds. Dad finally gave up when Dusty dragged an entire team into the woods after a bird. After that, Dusty’s life was confined to a large pen and the enclosed basketball court…

I was in kindergarten when Dusty bit me again. Dad and one of his many girlfriends stood inside the garage while I played on the snow-covered basketball court. I stuck my gloved hand through Dusty’s fence. He sniffed and then chomped. I ripped back my arm, leaving the glove in his mouth…

The morning Dusty bit Dad is ingrained in my memory. After feeding the dogs, Dad let Dusty into the enclosed basketball court to eat and play. TJ, Aaron, and I watched from the dog pens. They were shadowboxing as usual when all of a sudden, it became real. Dusty sliced the top of Dad’s hand. Dad jumped back and wagged his finger at the wolf.

“That’s not how we play!”

Dusty’s hair stood straight up and he growled. Dad ran to the garage door and grabbed the same shovel that TJ had used to free me two years earlier. He spun and jabbed Dusty before he lunged. Dusty had trapped Dad in a corner. The dogs jumped onto their doghouses and barked in excitement. Dad tried to jab with the shovel and escape the corner, but Dusty pinned him back. I hugged one of the dogs and started crying. Aaron yelled at me to shut up, and I forced back tears. TJ ran into the house and returned with a beef knuckle and a steak. Beef knuckles were Dusty’s weekly treat, and TJ threw that into his pen first. When the wolf looked away, Dad jumped from the corner. Dusty spun back and followed Dad. TJ hung over a fence, waving the steak in the air, while Aaron banged on a doghouse. When Dusty looked back, TJ tossed in the steak, and Dusty ran into his pen after it. Dad closed the gate and locked it. Dusty never left his pen again…

After the basketball incident, Dad tried to find Dusty a new home. He called zoos and habitats, but no one wanted our wolf. Their wolves wouldn’t accept him, which would be a death sentence. Like the thousands of other Americans who buy exotic pets, Dad agonized over what to do. He didn’t want to kill Dusty, but keeping him locked in a cage was torture, and Dad had a nightmare about the wolf getting loose and attacking someone. Finally, almost two years after Dusty bit him, Dad mixed tranquilizers into his food and dumped it over the fence. Dusty ate every scrap, walked around as if drunk, and then lay on his side and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly for a while before dying.

Despite his father’s best intentions to bond with his sons over the wolf the animal was fighting a losing battle from the start. Wild animals, despite our best efforts, will always retain the instinct that is crucial to their survival and we would do well to remember that – for our own safety but foremost for the animal in question.

[source:vice]