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Howl on the edge photo by Jim Craven Wolf sanctuary told to expand fencing By Chris Bristol WILLIAMS � May was a good month for Howling Acres. For the first time since the refuge began taking in abandoned and abused wolves more than a decade ago, Sherrie and Charlie LaBat broke even. It was a turning point for the LaBats, who operate the nonprofit sanctuary outside this rural community in the Applegate Valley. "It was all starting to pay off, all the years of hard work," says Sherrie. "And then we got the bad news." In a strategic error, the sanctuary attracted the unwanted attention of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which regulates exotic animals and two weeks ago demanded the LaBats install perimeter fencing around the sanctuary�s 13 acres to prevent wolves from escaping. Never mind that nothing of the sort has happened. Rules are rules and wolves are wolves, the government said. The LaBats now have 90 days to fix the fencing or stop giving tours � a considerable hardship, since tours are their main source of income and the cheapest bid they got for the project came in at $20,000. "We�ve always struggled," says Sherrie, "but not like this. Before, we only had a couple wolves. Now we have 22." The sanctuary has struggled not only financially but also to achieve credibility as a first-rate facility. Adds Krisi Nichols, one of many community volunteers and the newest member of the sanctuary�s board of directors, who considers the wolf a spiritual symbol of her American Indian ancestry: "It�s a huge setback. If we don�t get this money, we�re gonna lose everything." The LaBats began collecting wolves years ago as a sort of unofficial humane society, and until recently the sanctuary was a fairly low-key operation. But last year the LaBats began raising Howling Acres� profile, filing for nonprofit status and naming a board of directors, creating a Web page and offering educational tours. Their mission is simple: protect injured and abandoned wolves (many of them were pets until their wildness frightened owners) through a combination of sanctuary and public awareness. Their wolves come from all over the United States and Mexico. Some are purebred, some are hybrids of one sort or another. Despite the resemblance, they are not dogs and they are not domesticated. On a recent tour, Sherrie pointed out aspects of the hierarchical social structure of wolf packs. The sanctuary�s 22 wolves (eight more are on a waiting list) are separated in seven different compounds. Each compound is surrounded by six-foot wire fencing. "That�s June," she says, referring to a slightly built female who quickly submits in a brief encounter with Wewonka, the alpha female of the pup compound. "June�s always the last one to eat. Everybody else is kind of in the middle." Charlie recently built a feeding trough, complete with eight individual slots, to reduce the competition and make sure omegas like June don�t go hungry. The wolves all look well fed and fit. Normally the sanctuary�s biggest expense is food � the wolves snarf up to 300 pounds of store-bought dog food a week, plus 100 pounds of fresh meat (from local dairies, road kill) and assorted leftovers. "Wolves love their vegetables," says Charlie, who does most of the handiwork required to maintain the facility, "especially corn on the cob." Medical care is another big expense. Their bill was $1,200 last month (including $400 for a year�s supply of heartworm medication), and that�s half what their veterinarian, Dr. Mike Motschenbacher of Rogue River, would normally charge. Fencing is not a normal expense, at least at this stage. But the feds want 8-foot fencing (rather than 6) around the compounds, plus 1,200 feet of perimeter fencing, electric gates and 3-foot rails around the compounds. Sherrie blames herself. Although the sanctuary has a permit from the Oregon Department of Agriculture, she thought it would help to get a federal exhibition license for the tours. "I called them up and, bam, they�re all over me," says Sherrie, a full-time clerk at Providence Medford Medical Center. "They say they don�t want to put us out of business, that they need us to do what we�re doing, but we have to put up more fence." The LaBats already have raised $5,000, but much of that was a $3,500 donation from one source. E-mail has been pouring in, including one from Egypt in which the only words Sherrie recognized were "Transfer American dollars." If the sanctuary doesn�t meet the fencing requirements within 90 days, USDA rules bar re-application for six months. Without the license, the LaBats can�t do tours. Whatever happens, Sherrie says the sanctuary will never shut down. "If we have to sell everything we own to feed these guys," she says, "we will." For more information, call (541) 846-8962, or check out the sanctuary�s Web site at: www.howlingacres.org Donations may be sent to P.O. Box 358, Williams, OR 97544. Obituaries | Sports | Business | Classifieds | Tempo | Prime Times | So Oregon Sites | Outdoor Journal | Subscribe | Contact | Movies | Advertise | Real Estate Showcase | Archive | Editorials | Letters to the editor | Religion | Wake-up Call | NIE | Cyber Chef | Job Network | So Oregon Weather | WSJ Northwest | Forums | AP Wire | AP Money | F.A.Q. | Awards Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. The Community Newspaper Subsidiary of Dow Jones & Co, Inc Copyright �The Mail Tribune 2000, Medford, Oregon USA