Wolves are found everywhere across Canada, in forests, mountains, lowlands, your city, your neighbourhood, your car, your home. You may be a wolf yourself.

Grey Wolves may not even be grey. They live across the Cordillera, St. Lawrence Lowlands, Canadian Shield, are like dogs in demeanour, but shyer; you must approach them first if you wish to make acquaintance. They have the same number of teeth as dogs. To verify, you may try telling them a joke, may try asking them to pronounce the word ‘fecklessness’, may try presenting the tip of your little finger upon which to gnaw.

Rocky Mountain Wolves were almost eradicated in the early twentieth century because they discourteously killed cattle and unpatriotically ate beavers. However, we eventually decided they were Canadian as the rest of us and reintroduced them to their own ancient home. If you look into their eyes, you will see yourself reflected along with all the good you have ever done and will ever fail to do. Do not shoot them. This is not their fault. 

Timber Wolves imitates human voices frighteningly well. You may have a full conversation with before realizing the black fingernails, glistening jaws, and grey hair of the gentleman before you belong to a wolf. But Timber Wolves can be just as guileless, can carry on love affairs with humans howling to the same moon provided their lover remains hidden amongst the trees. 

Great Plains Wolves are all dead, meaning you have nothing to fear. They haunt the prairies of Saskatchewan and Manitoba, used to be tawny brown or maybe black or white or yellow as prairie grass. These wolves may bite and claw at you, but ghosts cannot harm you. Do not be afraid.

Vancouver Island Wolves eat salmon brains. Do not challenge them in the water or try to outswim them. They will win, and you may drown. Their prize will be the delicious barnacles, clams, and crabs that infest your sea-salted ribs.

Arctic Wolves live so far north, you will likely never meet them. They eat muskoxen and hares, and it’s unlikely they would share with you, though otherwise, they are quite friendly. This is fortunate as these wolves are difficult to see against the blinding tundra and move under cover of the total darkness of high northern winters. They could disappear you quietly and completely; that is, if they weren’t so nice.

Loup-Garous are not wolves, at least not completely. They are also Quebecois woodsmen. These brave wolves journeyed across the ocean to provide for their sweethearts back home but, as men are wont to do, lost themselves to sin somewhere amidst the yellow birch. The Canadian wilds have cursed them to sprout hair on their palms, their backs, grow long snouts with thick red tongues and daggered teeth. These wolves will wander, lost and alone, crying out for their lost forms, their lost histories. You could be the friends these wolves need, could wield the axe that puts them out of their misery. 

Benjamin Johnson (he/him) lives and writes on Treaty 6 Territory in the Canadian Prairies, his work focusing on queering space through magic and camp. He holds an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts and has had work published by the Ex-Puritan, temz Review, Hunger Mountain, and others.