Is there a word for this?

pup.

Is there a word for this? Yep: feral.
Edit: confess I'm wondering if there is someone in particular who sparked this question...

I don't think 'feral' is it. Looking for something more specific to wolves. It was a question raised on another board and I thought just maybe tsuwm would deign to make an appearance and have the word right on the tip of his pen.

I can only grab at phrases like wolverine fostering - do you know for sure there is one dedicated word, Fong? Unless it's romulan... ;)

d'oh: wolf-children

"Stories of feral children, as opposed to wolf children, have gained wider acceptance." - Cecil/Straight Dope

I'm not sure, but I think the word being looked for is for the process rather than the recipients. It's in the Vocabula Forum and the asker is sure that there's a 'hip' root involved, whatever *that means, but I didn't want to mention that for fear of prejudicing the jury. I wish I had a dollar for every time I've known, e.g., "All I remember is it starts with an 'S' … Right! Carpathians!"

Edit: Double D'oh! It's not a 'hip' root, it's a 'lup' root. Cramped font, yeah, that's it. It was in a cramped font.

It would make sense if it did. I didn't feel like taking the time, but if you want to you can see if any of the list of words-that-begin-with-lup that Onelook gave me is what you're looking for:
http://www.onelook.com/?w=lup*

actually, I had the notion that it was on the lupa- (from L. lupus) model; imagine my surprise when I looked up lupanar.

http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?book=Dictionary&va=lupanar

but see lyco- too, from the Greek root lykos.

Excellent - gives a whole new meaning to the mythology of the birth of Rome!

Is there a word for this?

Mowgli

Would sumptin like edolupine do it?

>Would sumptin like edolupine do it?

Nope. I asked a bunch of were-children if any of them had been actually raised by wolves. One raised her hand and said, "Ida Lupino." I even got it on film.

Is there a word for this?

Mowgli

or:

mowglified?

I would like to say that I almost assassinated myself when I learned this was just a pun. Which is okay, I guess, since I'd have died to see the clip, too.

Sorry, maverick, you're not the first to think of that.
From Livy's History of Rome:

Some think Larenta was called "lupa" by the shepherds because of her promiscuity and this is what gave rise to the story of the miracle. (my translation)

http://makeashorterlink.com/?G1F7414EA

From Plutarch's Life of Romulus:

But some say that the name of the children's nurse, by its ambiguity, deflected the story into the fabulous. For the Latins not only called she-wolves "lupae," but also women of loose character, and such a woman was the wife of Faustulus, the foster-father of the infants, Acca Larentia by name. (the Perrin translation)

http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Romulus*.html

I suspect the Greek was a bit more explicit than just 'women of loose character', but as far as I know the Greek text isn't online, so I can't look it up.

The Lewis and Short Latin dictionary entry for 'lupa':
http://makeashorterlink.com/?P3D7264EA


Bingley

> not the first to think of that

Sorry, bing, I should have made myself clearer by saying it gave an understanding new to me ~ I am not surprised to find it was previously understood as ambiguous to say the least! The Romans to this day are a pragmatic people :)

Funny how we're always told the wolf story at school and no-one mentions the alternative explanation.

Bingley

Getting back to the original question, Dr. Bill and I have been knocking things around offline and have come up with the Latin, lupalitus, from lupus, wolf, and alere, to feed, nourish, support, sustain, maintain. We haven't Englished it yet. Any help would be appreciated.

Going back to Roman roots, how about Englishing it as lupalatine?

Is Englishing it putting a spin on it?

And wolves raised by people? Any term there?

welcome, marilyn!

> Any term there?

how about fidopus?

>And wolves raised by people? Any term there?

Killers. When we live3d in Colorado we had a neighbor with kids exactly the same age as ours, and they had a 90 plus wolf hybrid. I asked my veterinarian whether I should let my kids play over there.

His response was, "Not even no, but hell no. It is not a matter of whether that animal will hurt a human but when. They are wild animals even when raised from birth among humans."

So guess whose kids did not go to the neighbors to play?

...for people who raise wolves as pets? Yes: idiots. Is there a word for people who raise wolves around children? Yes--well, a term anyway: willfully criminal idiots.
Wolves are extremely territorial; and even if/when they accept the children as part of their pack, there is a high probability that at some point the wolf is going to believe that a child is trying to take its food. And since a child is not going to be considered the alpha male, the child is likely in for a mauling. [shaking head e]

It think wolf hybrids were common when we lived in AK. Our first dog up there was half-husky and half wolf. He used to go on walk-about ... literally, he would break his chain (these dogs are amazingly strong) and go off for weeks. He was gone for some time - days, maybe weeks. He comes back one time with a 'friend.' I don't recognize the breed. It looks so much like a husky, but not quite. I can't find anything that looks quite like it in my (copious) books.

I turn to my wild animal encyclopedia and I find her, a siberian wolf. By this time, she had already been living in our house for a while. She was very shy, but eventually got used to the members of the family.

Had we known she was actually wild, we would not have taken her in, but other than the extreme shyness we really had no idea what she was.

She did not like anyone outside the family to touch her. When strangers came to the house, she always acted nervous.

But she was always extremely patient with us kids and very pleasant to be around.
We just called her girl. She was not really our dog. We let her stay in the house and come and go as she pleased. She was with us over a year, I think. One day she vanished.

At first I was sorry for King. He was owned by our neighbor who never took him walking, kept him chained outside all the time, never cleaned up after him, and beat him mercilessly. As we lived next door, the smell in summer was unbearable. But, while my main job was baby-sitting, I had a lucrative sideline taking care of dogs and shoveling poop from yards. So I took care of him. Eventually my dad convinced the neighbor to let us have him. He seemed happy. But he hated - and I mean really hated the previous owner. He growled and acted horrible around the guy.

To everyone else he was a perfect gentleman in most circumstances. One day in winter I went out to feed him. He ate a lot so I was carrying quite a large dish full of dog food and leftovers. I was very small for a 12 year old, maybe 65 pounds or so. As it was winter he had done what he always did - dug holes in the packed snow. In AK, your porched is often raised several feet above ground with steps leading up. In winter, the snow is many feet deep, but it often packs down to just 3 or 4 feet. It also drifts up against your house (aside: I think there was a lot more snow in AK than in NH, but my memory is that the snow drifts in NH were really scarey, at least for newcomers, as the stuff can actually cover your house.)

Anyway, I was feeding King and I got my snow mobile boot stuck in one of his numerous holes. I couldn't get my foot out because he kept licking me and jumping on me. I tried to calm down, but I started to get scared and began screaming and crying ... which just got him more excited. More licking. More jumping. I started punching him as hard as I could right in the face. He wouldn't stop. Finally, I took my foot out of my boot (it was only maybe 20 below and I only had about 15 feet to hop to the door). I really hated that stupid dog for a long time after that. But I will say this: that for all my screaming and punching on him, he never bit me hard. I got some heavy scratches (it's a big dog), but no real injuries.

Eventually, my hatred subsided. As I grew older and developed more experience with more breeds around the neighborhood, my ability to handle all of them radially improved. Every day after school I made rounds to clean poop and play with a few of the rascals. At any time I might have 1 to 10 customers and I would take care of each about twice a week. It payed crap, but with the number of customers it added up - and I really liked doing it. After many more months, King and I developed a significant rapport. I can't say that he ever respected me the way that a dog ought to respect his owner. But he would listen to me most of the time - and I came to understand that I could control him more with body language than with words. He was the family dog, but he was really *my* dog. In all this time, the only person to whom he ever expressed anything against to dislike was his previous owner who by this time had become a threat and a nemesis to our entire family. His previous violence towards King was just one manifestation of his generally being an asshole. He threatened my brothers and me once and then he and one of his buddies used a pickup to chase my dad (on a small motorcycle at the time) down and threaten him with a gun. My dad is not easily intimidated, though, and has a collection of knives most of which were involuntarily relinquished by the people stupid enough to brandish them. My dad had a 'talk' with him and eventually got him kicked off post. (This all took place at and around Ft. Wainwright, AK.)

Back to the point. Bonehead was out of the picture and there was no question that King was now our dog. He was so funny. We went out into the woods several days of the week - especially the weekends. We went out to the Chena and would let King run loose for hours (sometimes days). We'd call him before we'd be ready to go, but he wouldn't come. He never came. Eventually, we'd have to really leave. We'd get in the jeep and drive slowly back the dirt path towards the road. Soon we'd see him in the rear view mirror, coming like a bat out of hell, so to speak. We'd stop, open the door, and in he'd jump. He never came when called. But always, within minutes of driving down the road, he'd be chasing behind us to get in.

There was this bully in our neighborhood. He was only one year older than me, but a LOT bigger - the same size as my dad. One day I said something that really pissed him off and he started chasing me. I was generally fast, but his legs were so long, that I couldn't ditch him. He was just about to get me ... I didn't have time to open my door to get in the house ... I dived ... into King's dog house (which was humongus and always filled with fresh hay). The next thing I know King, the dog who had never made a violent gesture towards anyone other than the asshole, lunged at this kid with more ferociousness than I have ever witnessed in any animal. Having broken up dog fights between very large dogs, I'm pretty familiar with how ferocious dogs can be. But this was different. He was like a really wild animal, like a crazy animal, like he was rabid or something. I've never seen that kind of thing before or since. It's a terrible and terrifying thing to witness, but it is also humbling and somewhat majestic.

Fortunately, Frank stopped himself in time and remained out of reach. Had he been even a few inches closer to me, I don't have any doubts that he would have been seriously injured, perhaps even killed. For weeks after that, Frank wouldn't come near our place. Eventually, King and he also came to a agreement to not mess with each other, but they always seemed to eye each other with suspicion.

It was my habit on weekends, to take my weekly earnings and walk across to the other side of the post. I always stopped in the four season's store to buy the latest model tank, then the book store to buy a chess book or a stamp book, and finally the library for a few hours, before heading home to eat lunch and then go fishing or hunting with my dad and brothers. One day I came home from the library and went out to wrestle with my big, scarey beast. There was a fair chance he'd be coming with us. But he was gone. I thought at first, 'Dangit, he broke another chain!' But the chain wasn't broken. Nor was the latch. Nor was the house. His harness was missing, so he had not slipped out. This was a little strange. I went in to tell dad that I think someone stole him. My parents told me that we'd be moving back to the lower 48 soon, that we would not be bringing him with us, and that they gave him away to a musher. They did it when I wasn't there and without any warning, because they didn't want me to suffer. They wanted it to be quick and painless and I suppose it was.

We had him almost the entire time we lived in AK, more than 3 years. In that time, he only ever made violent stirrings against two humans that I'm aware - once to Frank, and a few dozen times to the asshole who had abused him. Despite the fact that I punched him myself numerous times on that one occasion, he never growled at me one time, never bit me in seriousness, never gave the remotest indication that he wished me any harm whatever.

Even now, just about 30 years after the fact, among my most cherished memories is me punching that hairy monster in the face as hard as I could and him just licking me and jumping all over me as if to say, 'Ah, so you wanna play do you!'

This is not a recommendation for them. It's a statement of one person's recollection of certain facts. In general, I am opposed to making pets of any wild animals - and particularly exotic animals. I'm not a fanatic about it, but I have to say that I disapprove of people doing this. Animals do what their instincts tell them to do - whether they are wild or dometicated. And it's very difficult to predict how a wild animal will react in proximity to humans.

People should own pets because they love them and want to take care of them - not because it's just so bloody cool to walk down the sidewalk with a python on your neck. Again, I'm not a fanatic about it. I think it's okay for a someone who really loves snakes to have a python. (I even had an amateur herpetologist friend who owned several.) This feeling doesn't just apply to wild animals, either. Pitbulls are wonderful dogs, but I'm alarmed at the number of people who don't socialize these magnificent pets. I could even say this for dogs in general. Someone gets some dog without doing any research at all, then figures out that it requires some minuscule effort - oops, guess I better turn him loose in the wild and let him fend for himself.

k

I once met an Alaskan woman on the corner of Second Avenue and Third, or maybe Sixth, Street. I approached her, because I was curious about the strange dog on her leash, which turned out to be such a wolf/dog hybrid. But the thing I remember most about the encounter is her eyes. Her green eyes. Wild as northern ice. I flattered myself, as I walked home, accompanied by none but the voice of my own unreliable narrator that, had her eyes not only bored but beckoned, I'd have followed forever to the rhime shelf from which northern goddess standing naked on king crab shells emerge to ride ididerod in the lights-draped night.

I read an account once of a family who adopted a wolf from a circus. The man was told that the wolf was a serious danger to his children, and did some research, including wild-wolf observation. His observations were that in cases where a cub was killed by an adult wolf, it was ALWAYS the alpha male who killed the cub, never any other male, possibly an alpha female might have killed one.

This family had carefully impressed upon the wolf that the man was the alpha male and his wife the alpha female. Logically, he felt, his children were safe with the wolf. Nonetheless, the family rule was that neither child, nor both together, would ever be alone with the wolf without a parent. I think this was an excellent rule.

I don't approve of deliberately taking animals from the wild as pets, and few enough people understand how to handle dogs. We do the pack structure in our house, too. At one time we had an eighty-five pound shepherd cross who had odd eyes (one blue, one marl) and looked quite the sod. He would growl at people (not us) who came near "his" car (we just drove and paid the bills), though he never, ever bit. He was, I believe, psychologically incapable of biting either my husband or me, because we had impressed upon him from puppyhood that we were the alphas.

I growl at my dogs if they aren't behaving. Works great. And, yes, I hiss at my cats.
I've kept snakes (because I do love them), and seriously disapprove of people who go out in public wearing them. Snakes don't really like to be draped around your neck - it's an uncomfortable position without proper support. Also, they are cold-blooded and so can't maintain a healthy body temperature in the face of damaging cold or heat.

This family had carefully impressed upon the wolf that the man was the alpha male and his wife the alpha female.... Nonetheless, the family rule was that neither child, nor both together, would ever be alone with the wolf without a parent. I think this was an excellent rule.

Do you think the inconsistency was lost on the wolf?

I don't know. Pack animals like to have the pack around, so maybe the wolf didn't notice. On the other hand, Farley Mowat recorded non-alpha males "babysitting" cubs. On the other other hand, many say Farley Mowat did his wolf observations in the bar....I still don't think it's a good idea to keep a wolf as a pet, though I'm charmed with the story of the "shy dog" who turned out to be a wolf.

Oh, I like to think Farley Mowat really was out there stewing field mice and crawling into wolf dens. He was pretty open about taking the bar with him, in writing, at least -- with the bush pilot he hired, he was a bit less candid. It don't hurt to lie when the stakes are high, I guess. My goddaughter the archeologist is not too keen on his account of the "Albans," but he is a sometimes charming read. As to wolves, I can't really see a good reason for keeping them around the house, myself. Unless to catch mice. And there are cats for that, or?

Thanks for that story, ff--I love a good read.

It's a good idea that the kids are never alone with the wolf. OTOH, I think of dogs as domesticated wolves. And I've read of a few cases where dogs have killed small children - which I think was usually attributed to jealously.

I believe I mentioned previously that we have a Jack Russell Terrier. She's really a very pretty dog. The kids - and particularly my eldest - took one look at her at the shelter and just had to have her. She was pretty there, but when we got her home and cleaned up she turned out to be one of the prettiest little things I've ever seen.

Anyway, she clearly recognizes me as the lead dog, but she was growling at the kids. Ever time I either growl back while looming over her with my teeth showing, or I yell. She's nipped my youngest twice, and I've popped her (hard) on the backside. She's pretty well figured out her place in the family now. I don't tolerate even the least hint of a growl or a bite, because I know what's going on in that little head. (It would be different if a dog bit someone who was tormenting them. That, I have no problems with.) My girls had trouble dominating the little cuss at first, but I've tried to show them - and they've got it worked out now, I think. They even handle other, much bigger, dogs better now. There are several problems with pet owners, I think. One is that they don't think things through in advance. The other is that they often don't realize that when they bring a dog into their house, they have a de facto pack. Whether they acknowledge it, whether they're even aware of it, or approve of it. They have a pack. Somebody in that pack WILL be the alpha. It's either a person or it's the dog. If there's any uncertainty about who's in charge, here's a hint: it's not the human. Screaming does not make one the alpha. Holding the leash does not make one the alpha. We're still trying to get my wife to understand this. She takes the dog for a walk and the dog is directing the entire walk. I've tried to tell her not to let the dog lead, but she's a stubborn woman. The dog ought not to be tugging on the leash. I've tried to get her to watch videos, but she won't. Thinks it's a waste of time. Here's an item, though: Dog (Ginger) used to growl and nip when we tried to brush her teeth, but now my youngest has complete control over her and can brush her teeth with relative ease. This one took a really long time, but her teeth get brushed 2 or 3 times a week. I'm so proud of my youngest for sticking with it. When you're a kid and a dog bites you, it's hard to not think the dog hates you. Of course, that's not it at all. They're just being what they are. You ought not tolerate it (even once), but it doesn't mean there's something wrong with the dog - especially when it's new to a family. One thing - with most dogs, you jockey for position once, the dog figures out where he is in the pecking order, and everything's fine. With this JRT, she's continually trying to push her limits - which I think is why they have such a reputation for being unruly. But this is exactly the sort of thing I consider a virtue. They're not for people who want an easy go of it. It's almost like having a 2 year old kid - very demanding and very rewarding.

> Somebody in that pack WILL be the alpha. [...] If there's any uncertainty about who's in charge, here's a hint: it's not the human. [...] I've tried to tell her not to let the dog lead, but she's a stubborn woman.

<eg>

The Sault Star has for years offered a reward for a confirmed report of an unprovoked attack by a healthy wolf on a human being. Never had to pay it out. Of course, every year we hear a few stories of dogs attacking and even killing children or adults. Dog packs are the thing to fear, not wolf packs.
You're absolutely right, FF, when you get a dog, you've got a pack, and you'd better be the alpha. Keeper, our late lamented sod, once growled at our niece, a toddler at the time. David (my husband) pounced on Keeper, hauled him up off the ground, holding him by the skin on the sides of his neck, shook him and growled, then threw him down. This took about three seconds. The next time my niece came into the room, Keeper got up and left. He wouldn't even look at her thereafter for the remainder of the visit.

Dogs are significantly better than cats at making us think that we are in charge. By doing so they are significantly better at enslaving us. Is this irony?

My daughter and I watched a show about dog evolution on NOVA last night. It was narrated by John Lithgow. Very interesting stuff. The scientists interviewed scoffed at the idea that humans adopted, then domesticated wolves.

Their reasoning goes like this:

1) Dog training and selective breeding are very difficult. They require a lot of resources and some sophisticated knowledge.

2) While archaeological evidence shows that humans and dogs have cohabited for at least 15,000 years, genetic clock evidence indicates that the dog line goes back about 100,000 years.

3) Dog's brains are smaller than wolves' brains.

From these facts some researchers conclude that dogs became at least partially domesticated BEFORE humans adopted them. They suggest that as early human groups began to throw away garbage, some wolves filled a niche by becoming scavengers. (Scavengers generally have smaller brains than predators.) Those scavengers had an evolutionary advantage over the wilder ones who had to struggle much harder to get their food. Over generations, populations of these animals gradually lost their fear of humans and lived alongside them. That is, they became dogs in this process.

An interesting factoid from the show: the earliest dogs seemed to be playthings for royalty and looked a lot like modern salukis.