When Wolves Attack

By James H. Fetzer and J.R. Dunn

There were a number of comments to my last piece, "In the Company of Wolves" suggesting that the young female victims of recent predator attacks in Alaska and the Maritimes were menstruating at the time of that attacks. This thought had occurred to me, but being a gentleman (okay... enough's enough), I chose not to mention it.

But the more I think of it, the more it strikes me as the sole plausible explanation for these attacks. There were serious oddities about both assaults. Wolves rarely attack humans (professional courtesy between predators, I've always thought). I can't recall the last such incident. Coyotes are one step above scavengers, if that, and are essentially cowards, seldom attacking anything larger than themselves. But if the girls were having their periods, all that goes by the board. The smell of blood would immediately trigger "wounded animal" stalking and attack behavior patterns in both species, undoubtedly amplified by the fact that both women were running -- Ms. Berger jogging at the time of the attack, and Ms. Mitchell fleeing as soon as the coyotes appeared.

I was once involved with a young woman who had a love of horses and rode at riding farms and similar establishments every chance she got. One day she returned from such an outing bent over and limping. It seems that the horse she chose took only a few steps before throwing her. By secret means of my own, I was aware that it was that time of the month, and researched the matter to discover that horses are utterly terrified by the smell of blood. It could very well have been worse -- women in the past have been stomped by panic-stricken horses under exactly such circumstances.

While not conclusive, this is certainly suggestive, and in cases where life and limb are in jeopardy, suggestion is more than enough. Any young women reading this should keep these facts in mind. And those of us who know young women -- and who doesn't? -- might find a discreet way to mention this if these girls are in the habit of communing with Gaia or running in lonely places.