The story of a Cheanne Chellis, Michigan's most staunch humanitarian and protector of gray wolves.

Len McDougall
LMwriter1.yahoo.com
First serial rights
September 30, 2006




Ask anyone around Paradise, Michigan about the "Wolf Lady," and you'll probably get directions to the home of Cheanne Chellis. There, protected within a 10,000 square foot
compound of 10-foot high chain-link fence surrounded by a 6-foot perimeter fence, you'll find Cheanne's "boys," Chakota, Nahanni, and Kenai. Aged 12, 11, and 9 years, respectively, these
full-blooded gray, or "timber" wolves have been with Cheanne almost since birth.
Ask Cheanne why she would choose to accept the years of serious responsibility that go with raising and handling wolves, and a light of passion flashes in her blue eyes. A paramedic by trade, she has always had animals in her life, whether boarding horses or training teams of racing huskies, but, as her bookshelves show, she has always had a special place in her heart for gray wolves.
"No species has ever been so wrongfully persecuted," she says, "Gray wolves are a keystone
predator, and no natural environment in the northern hemisphere can be complete without them."
Cheanne explains that her adoption of these graceful and powerful animals from a wolf ranch in Oklahoma had at first been prompted by the strong connection she has always felt with these most social of predators. An animal lover by nature, she soon found herself actively involved in the
cause of public education.
"Kids still hear horror stories about vicious wolves that prey on children and childlike characters
as food," she says, "especially at bedtime. That's like letting a child watch a gory movie before bed; both are sure to cause nightmares about the story's villain." She goes on to say that, despite rare encounters between campers and wolves that have become accustomed to being fed by them,
there has never been a substantiated case of wolves attacking a human of any size or age.
Concluding that prejudice against gray wolves stems from fear and disinformation, Cheanne decided to go public with her small pack, and in 2002 she began accepting visitors by appointment. She charges no money for tours, asking only that visitors have an open mind while she dispels
misconceptions about gray wolves with an encyclopedic knowledge of factual data. Chakota, the unusually social alpha, delights people by kissing them through the containment fence, pressing
against the links to be scratched, and sometimes standing upright to a height of seven feet, just to show everyone how tall and handsome he is.
"The people I want to see most are those who don't like wolves," Cheanne says, "I tell them to bring all of their prejudices with them, because they'll be leaving those here."
It seems to be working; the pages in Cheanne's guestbook are signed by tourists who hail from as far off as Russia, Spain, even Israel, and, judging from the comments accompanying many of the signatures, she has recruited many to the cause of wolf preservation. Those believers include
virtually all of the more than 600 residents of Whitefish Township, many of whom say the howling of wolves, wild and otherwise, is one of their reasons for living here. Motel owners in Paradise refer guests to Cheanne's place as frequently as they do to Tahquamenon Falls or Whitefish Point's
lighthouse, and Mike Cook, proprietor of the town's only grocery store, regularly provides the wolves with outdated meats that include ribeye and T-bone steaks.
Best of all, from the wolves' perspective, are road-killed whitetails. Local deputy Tom McBryde
routinely phones Cheanne whenever he's called to report a car/deer accident, and locals sometimes even bring carcasses directly to her house. Cheanne opens each carcass to inspect the lungs and other organs for signs of disease, but otherwise feeds the quartered deer to her wolves unskinned
and intact. She explains that, to a wild carnivore, hair is the equivalent of vegetable fiber in the human diet, helping to keep the intestines clear of undigested matter. Joint cartilage provides necessary nutrients to keep the wolves' own joints healthy, and bones are easily crushed by their
powerful jaws to obtain rich marrow. Like wolves in the wild, the "boys" even open the skulls to eat the fat-rich brain, which is a delicacy to them.
Cheanne also feeds her wolves a lot of chicken - about 40 pounds a week - boiled and taken off the bones because she fears splinters. Balancing their diets is a quality kibble, because it contains nutrients that are lacking in meats, as well as uncooked green beans and blueberries. She explains that no meat-eater is strictly carnivorous, and all will seek out fruits and vegetables that contain necessary vitamins and minerals.
Listen to Cheanne speak for a few minutes, and it becomes apparent that her passion for wolves is complemented by a solid knowledge of the species, and her dedication is rooted not in romance, but in long experience and study.

UPDATE: I note with considerable personal heartache that in early September of 2008, Cheanne was forced to put down her beloved, beautiful Chakota ("Cody Man"). Chakota was 13 years old, and suffering from chronic debilitating arthritis. He could no longer walk on a leash (a horse lead,
actually), like he'd done since puppyhood, and it had become obvious that life had lost its joy for
Cody. He was given an injection by veterinarian Sarah Michelin, who made the 240-mile round trip to tend to Cheanne's wolves whenever she was needed, and Chakota went to sleep for the last time with his head in Cheanne's lap. She stroked his head and cried silently while her spirit
brother slipped into eternity, where he continues to live forever in the hearts of everyone who knew this incredible ambassador for his species. When he had left, Cheanne and Sarah gave Chakota's packmates, Kenai and Nahanni, a few minutes alone with their alpha leader to say their
goodbyes. Wolves cannot cry like humans, but the muted grief of these two was palpable, and, perhaps in his honor, neither has attempted to take Chakota's place as the leader.
Chakota is interred on a hilltop behind the wolf compound, where his spirit runs free under the starry skies, and a warm sun caresses him each day. His grave is marked by a marble headstone that bears his likeness and name. Chakota, all of us who loved you will miss you forever, and your song will live in our hearts until we join you.