As wolves continue to expand their territory in Western states, inevitable conflicts between the predators and livestock grow increasingly commonplace. While an unwelcome problem wherever it occurs, on the fringes of this expansion, stricter regulations and increased protections lend the issue a greater severity, as well as an extra layer of frustration.
Jackson County, in southwest Oregon, is a region known more for its timber and forests than for its ranching community. Ranching is a vital part of their economy, however, and cattle and sheep flourish in high meadows along the western slope of the Cascade and Siskiyou mountain ranges. It is also home to OR-7, a wolf that garnered national headlines in 2011 by becoming the first to cross Oregon and settle west of the Cascades.
[inline_image file=”0fdf8e0b03dee9020923fd9adc2e7f29.jpg” caption=”The wolf OR7, pictured lower right in 2014, made headlines nationwide when he was the first wolf in California in almost a century. He has since returned to southern Oregon and formed the Rogue Pack. The pack has been very active in attacks on livestock.”]
“OR-7, for whatever reason, decided to call this place home,” says Butte Falls rancher Ted Birdseye.
“Every litter of pups he’s had has been within six miles of this place.”
While some of those pups have dispersed to other areas, including California, many have remained, forming what is now known as the Rogue Pack.
According to Birdseye, who purchased his current ranch several years ago, his problems with wolf predation didn’t begin right away.
“The first year, we didn’t have any problems,” he says. “Now the problems go on and on.” During 2018, the Rogue Pack was responsible for 11 confirmed cases of livestock predation. Six of them, including one guard dog, happened on Birdseye’s ranch. These losses, along with numerous suspected but unconfirmed kills, have forced Birdseye to make major changes in his management.
“This year, I didn’t even use one of my permits, to any extent, because I was afraid to turn those cows out with baby calves,” he says. Birdseye has also explored the option of shipping his calves to a nearby feedlot, or even going out of the cow business altogether, and run stocker calves on a seasonal basis instead.
While these choices may seem drastic, Birdseye points out that the current situation is having a profound effect on his life.
“For the last two nights, we’ve had decent sleep,” he explains. “Most nights, the wolves start howling around 2 in the morning. So, then my wife or I get up and make a circuit around the place with a flashlight, just trying to move anything that’s there and scare it off.”
Birdseye indicates that this practice has been more or less continuous since September, and that he has encountered wolves within 30 yards of his home.
“The stress and anxiety is very high,” he says. “It’s driving me crazy.”
Management migraines
Much of Jackson County’s problem stems from how the wolves are managed or, more to the point, who manages them. While wolves in most of the West have been relegated to state control, wolves in the western two thirds of Oregon, along with portions of Washington and California, remain under the protection of the federal Endangered Species Act. This distinction makes lethal removal of wolves an impossibility, no matter how chronic the problem becomes.
“I’ve tried to be very patient with all the rules and regulations,” says Birdseye. “I’ve been working very closely with Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife (ODFW), USFWS [U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service], and Wildlife Services. But I’m starting to lose patience.”
That’s not to say, according to Birdseye, that the agencies haven’t tried to help.
“I have to say, and I want to make it really clear, I have had nothing but help and cooperation from all of these agencies,” he says. “They have their steps they have to go through, and I understand that. It makes me mad, but I understand it.”
According to Birdseye, federal personnel have spent numerous nights on his operation, strung and maintained miles of fladry and electric fence, and even organized volunteer crews to help remove bone piles and other animal carcasses in an effort to make his place less attractive to predators.
While USFWS representatives were unavailable for comment, ODFW personnel did state that they are working with the federal agency, as well as ranchers, to do everything they can within the confines of federal law.
Birdseye has even found himself working with wolf advocacy groups, a move he says caused him some apprehension.
“I was very nervous about working with these groups,” he says. “I’m skeptical about their agenda. But they have been helping.”
The advocacy groups, he says, are sending him two inflatable tube men, the kind of thing usually seen advertising at used car lots, in the hopes that they will help to frighten the wolves away.
“I’m still a little bit guarded, but I’m at the point that I have to do something,” says Birdseye. “I can’t keep losing calves, so I’m in bed with the enemy, so to speak.”
Permanent wolf fencing around the entirety of Birdseye’s ranch has also been considered, but with a $45,000 price tag, that idea is still out of reach, although he does indicate that, as the costs of protecting his cattle mount, USFWS is finding the idea increasingly attractive. It’s another drastic step for a rancher who admits he has long been fascinated by wolves and their behavior.
“I’m still fascinated by them,” he says. “I just don’t think I should have to put up with feeding them on my private property.” — Jason Campbell, WLJ correspondent
