When I was 25, I quit my cushy job in Philadelphia. With $120 in my pocket and a banjo tied to my backpack, I set out to work at a wolf sanctuary in New Mexico. The two years I spent in the middle of nowhere, next to Navajo and Zuni land, were a profound influence on my life.

All the wolves there were rescued wolves or wolf dog hybrids (and the odd fox or dingo) because people continue to buy them or breed them in places where they are illegal. Some came from rich owners. Some were to be put down but we interceded. We took care of them, educated school kids about wolves, and fed them barrels of meat. (The wolves, not the kids.)

The volunteers lived simply, without running water, in fire-heated cabins or hogans. We had a $25/week stipend, along with whatever we could make in construction on the side for neighbors. I think I made only $3,000 each year, but it was fun and toughened all of us up.

One particularly aggressive resident was named Luna - mostly arctic wolf, a bit dog. Enough wolf to be aggressive and enough dog to not be scared of humans. This tended to be a dangerous mix. None of the volunteers were allowed to go inside and pet her - we had to coax her into a secondary cage while we performed cleanup and repairs.

Now, on this day, Luna was all set to move into a bigger enclosure. It wasn’t far away, so we built a simple pathway fence to guide her the right way. We had posts driven into the ground, but the fencing was temporary.

So temporary that the wolf left her enclosure, smashed through the fence, pinning some volunteers to the ground, and bolted down a pathway. All without us saying a word. Maybe there was a scream. Luna quickly ran deeper into the property, a maze of fences, and our boss Leyton started yelling out orders. We were all young and some were used to emergencies, and we responded quickly. I was sent to grab a little Geo 4x4, a capture tool, and cut off the exit on the opposite side of the wolf sanctuary, and I ran the whole way to the car and peeled out.

Now I should pause, because there’s a certain way to catch a wolf that we had already been trained on (though hadn’t actually done). This involves at least four people to be safe, because those fellas are big and strong and lightning fast.

You need a large, strong dog cage, a net on a pole, and two y-shaped poles, one a little wider than the other. This sounds scary, but it’s the safest way to catch a large, scared animal, at least without jeeps and net shooters a la Jurassic Park.

One person waits sitting on top of the dog cage, holding the door open. One person places the smaller Y pole on the wolf’s neck, and one (me in this case) places the larger Y pole over the lower back. Neither pin the animal - but it instinctively submits and calms down. The last person nets the head, to protect everyone from thesnapping teeth. We then guide her into the cage and give her a sedative.

At least, that was the method I was taught back in 2008. Since then, I know there have been a lot more studies of wolf behavior, so perhaps it’s different now.

Back to me racing to the car. That horrible car, a 1990s Geo 4x4, neon retro blue, with a torn off roof and way too easy to tip if you weren’t careful. I don’t remember if it even had doors.

As I peeled out, still less than a minute since she escaped, I realized things weren’t stable. But I gunned it, pedal to the metal, determined to get to the other side before Luna did.

But…

Hitting the 90 degree turn…

The left wheels left the ground entirely as I kept turning to the right. I threw my weight instinctively to the left to balance…

Then SLAM I had overcorrected and was now driving straight forward on the left two wheels, and I leaned to the right more gently this time, and SLAM I was back on four wheels.

Leyton was now on the radio with Luna’s exact location. I was right in front of her only exit, so I spun the car to a stop and started running with my Y tool. Now the four of us volunteers had her covered. Mary held the dog crate. Alison had the net, I think. Angel had the small Y tool and stood in front, with me in the back. I think other people were there, but it’s hard to remember.

We moved as one. Angel and I pinned her down, Alison had her head in the net, and we gently nudged her into the crate with soothing words and slow movements. Mary finally closed the gate and we collapsed with a massive sigh, trying to smile while gasping for breath and feeling our hearts slow.

I can only imagine they felt like that - I certainly did. This is one of the memories that is sealed in my mind exactly as I told it, but I have to assume everyone remembers it differently. It was 2008, after all, and we were young, pretty sure we could take on anything. Relief just came flooding in. You could almost hear the tense shoulders settling, just like the sand around us.

Luna, in the cage, turned around and around in fear. The other wolves in the property started to howl in series, somehow acknowledging that something had happened. We covered Luna’s cage with a blanket to help her calm down with all the people around her.

Four others, including Leyton, carried her back to the new enclosure and gave her extra food to help her relax. He asked everyone to stay out of sight of the enclosure so she had the rest of the day to de-stress.

Everyone gathered in the main area. Most of us sat on the ground. Most of us had never done that before. I’d never driven a car like that before - I’m a grandma driver who preferred bikes and public transportation.

I felt a mixture of pride and incredulity myself. How many things could have gone horribly wrong just then, with something we’d never practiced or experienced? We laughed nervously and made more big, collective sighs. A few minutes later, we split up and got back to work.