Protected Yet Persecuted

A paradox in predator management, Washington Gray wolves are caught in the middle of a policy battle.

A rescued wolf lopes through its enclosure.

Story by Anna Gilboard // Photos by Natalie Taylor

March 18, 2025

The large shaggy creature dragged itself across the rocky terrain near the Klickitat River, its hind legs paralyzed from a bullet wound. Unable to stand, it struggled toward a nearby water source and eventually succumbed to starvation.

Days later, its body was found, a grim reminder of the tensions brewing across Washington’s landscapes. These creatures walk a precarious line between life and death.

This isn’t an isolated tragedy. Despite federal and state protections, Washington's gray wolves are caught in a paradox: one moment, they are symbols of wild resilience; the next, they are targets of both poachers and state-sanctioned lethal removal policies. What does it mean to protect a species when its survival still hinges on politics, fear, and control?

Amaroq Weiss, senior wolf advocate with the Center for Biological Diversity,has spent nearly three decades fighting to protect wolves. For Weiss, wolves are not just a species to save but a reminder of how society struggles to coexist with large predators. Despite legal protections, Weiss highlights the harsh reality: Wolves in Washington face threats from all sides: poachers, ranchers, and legal loopholes.

A wolf howls as others join in at Wolfhaven International.

Wolves in Washington live under a patchwork of protections that vary by region. According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, wolves are classified as federally endangered in the western two-thirds of the state. This means any illegal killing triggers federal involvement from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
However, east of Highway 97, wolves have not been federally protected since May 2011. This leaves state authorities in charge of management, according to Mitch Friedman, executive director of Conservation Northwest.

Weiss points to this division as a source of confusion and inconsistency in how wolf killings are investigated.

"There's different responses depending upon where in the state a wolf is killed," Weiss explains. "In eastern Washington, the state is going to respond... but the federal government isn't going to because wolves are not federally listed as endangered in that part of the state."

The state’s wolf management plan confuses matters by permitting lethal removal in cases where livestock depredation occurs, further complicating efforts to foster coexistence.

Weiss recounts a particularly harrowing case from October. A wolf was found east of the Klickitat River, its back legs shattered by gunfire. It had dragged itself to a water source, where it likely died of starvation. 

“It had been illegally shot,” Weiss says.“Tragically, this animal was not outright killed.” 

Despite this, she emphasizes that public awareness of illegal wolf killings remains low. However, they may be more common than they appear.

“What the science says is for every wolf that is illegally killed, [and] is found, there are one to two additional wolves that also have been illegally killed,” Weiss explains. “Whose deaths and bodies will never be discovered.” 

This grim reality complicates recovery efforts, making it harder for agencies to track population trends and enforce protections effectively.

Wolf Haven International is one of many sanctuaries dedicated to conservation and education.

For volunteers like Wriston Marshall, wolves are more than just symbols of wild ecosystems – they are deeply personal. 

A guide at Wolfhaven International stands near an enclosure.

“Wolves have been my favorite animal for as long as I can remember,” Marshall said. 

Marshall recalls feeling drawn to wolves because of their complex social structures, noting the similarities between wolf packs and human families.

Yet, as Washington has made headway in recovery efforts, Marshall worries that policy inconsistencies and political shifts could jeopardize that progress.

Washington’s wolf debate reflects deep divisions among stakeholders. Ranchers and anti-government factions often view wolves as threats, while urban conservationists and scientists see them as vital to ecological balance.

While not all ranchers face direct wolf predation, there is frustration with how policies are implemented. 

Rich Appel, a farmer on the west side of the Cascades, expresses concerns about policy decisions that affect the broader ranching community. 

Appel remarks that farmers are not opposed to wildlife and habitat restoration, but dislike being told they have no say in the process.

His comments reflect a broader frustration among ranchers who feel excluded from wildlife management decisions.

An endangered Mexican Wolf stares at its mate at Wolfhaven International.

A rescued wolf listens to the howls of its fellows in nearby areas.

The roots of this animosity stretch back to America’s westward expansion. As settlers transformed wild landscapes into farmland, apex predators like wolves were systematically eradicated to protect livestock.

"It was the philosophy of manifest destiny and clearing the wilderness to tame it for grain and livestock that was the death knell for wolves and grizzly bears in this country," Weiss says.

However, Conservation Northwest emphasizes that significant progress has been made. Washington is currently one of the national leaders in wolf recovery, with populations growing steadily since wolves first reappeared in the state in the late 2000s. 

Despite these gains, continued conflict threatens to undermine long-term success.

Friedman highlights Klickitat County, near Yakima, Washington, as an area where wolves appear to be disproportionately targeted by poachers. He describes the poaching incidents as “a mystery,” because wolves are not yet established in the area, and there have been no documented conflicts with livestock. He speculates that people may be killing wolves out of fear or anticipation of future problems.

Friedman explains that wolves are highly adaptive and reproduce frequently. This adaptability makes it crucial for communities to invest in non-lethal measures to prevent conflict and poaching. 

One approach has been range riding, a proactive herding technique where human presence is maintained near livestock to discourage wolf predation. 

Another tool is fladry fencing, a simple but effective deterrent. Fladry consists of brightly colored flags attached to a rope or electric wire strung to livestock pastures. The movement of the flags startles wolves and makes them hesitant to cross the boundary.

Conservation Northwest has partnered with ranchers to implement these techniques, showing that coexistence is possible through proactive management.

According to Friedman, Washington’s focus on coexistence has kept wolf-related conflicts and poaching rates relatively low compared to other states. However, continued legislative and public support will be needed to maintain this success. 

“The challenge is keeping the public engaged,” Friedman says.

For Friedman, one of the most memorable moments in his conservation work came on July 18, 2008. That day, cameras installed by Conservation Northwest’s volunteers captured images of the first confirmed wolf pack in Methow Valley, Washington since the species’ local extinction decades earlier.

“It was a big day,” Friedman recalls.

A rescued wolf stares out at visitors to Wolfhaven International.

Long-term recovery efforts include plans to build wildlife crossings along major highways like Interstate 5 to facilitate wolf expansion into areas like the South Cascades and Olympic Peninsula. 

Despite the odds, Weiss remains hopeful that education and advocacy can shift attitudes. 

“They are sentient beings with intrinsic value all their own,” she says. “No matter what we think of them.”

However, unless policies align with science, Washington’s wolves will continue to face an uphill battle for survival.