Paws for Thought

It’s a gaze that spans time and species. A sea wolf, the very definition of cunning and strength, stands on a rocky ledge with a huge rhododendron in riotous bloom close behind him. The photo on my desk occupies half a page in the Guardian Weekly and is arresting, all the more so because the face is familiar. With colouring and demeanour like that of a German shepherd (save for the short ears and straight hind limbs), the subject could be mistaken for a dog. Because it’s shot from a distance with a telephoto lens, the image dissolves the literal space between photographer and animal. The wolf appears close up — calm, curious, frozen — as two realms collide. In this intimate encounter between mammals — the watching and the watched — something suddenly shifts.

He was called Takaya, meaning “wolf” in the language of the Songhees Nation, whose territory lies in the southeastern region of Vancouver Island. The community knew him, as did a handful of others who...