Romeo and Juliet —the last two wolves in Juneau, Alaska
When she wandered into town, she had no name. In fact, nobody had ever seen her before. Until that fateful day in April of 2003, she had lived in the vast untamed forests of Southern Alaska and had no need for town. She was wild and she was free.
Juliet didn’t receive her name until years later, when her story became fully known. On the day she came in to town, tied to the back of work vehicle, she was just one of the many nameless wolves killed by humans each year.
Hit by a car on it’s way into Juneau as it came around a darkened bend on the densely forested Alaskan Highway — Juliet had yet to receive her name or have her first litter of puppies.
The driver reported the accident but by the time Juliet’s body was recovered, it was too late for the four pups that would have been born just a week or two later.
The winter following Juliet’s death, the people of Juneau began to hear mournful cries of a lone wolf. Hearing howling is a common enough thing in this part of the world, but a solitary unanswered voice — repeated night after night — caused the towns people to talk.
Was this the cry of a wolf without a pack? Was he calling his mate? Why didn’t he move on and call somewhere else? Was Juneau special to him for some reason?
