The first wolf I ever saw was in South Africa. In a wolf sanctuary. With a bunch of wolves from all around the world. I guess some people in South Africa wanted a great guard dog (given the crime/theft etc in the country), but realized that a wolf will start to peg off the chickens that they have, or start to eat their furniture in a very aggressive way. You can’t take the bite out of this “dog.” So they had to kick em to the street or donate them to this wolf sanctuary. It was quite sad. I saw some Canadian wolves in their and whispered through the fence that I was leaving on a jet plane and could try to fit them into the travel plans.

It’s quite interesting what happens when you put a bunch of dogs together in an isolated area. The PACK mentality begins and each dog finds their role to play. It’s pretty brutal, and the park tenants explained that they would find wolf carcasses some mornings because of the “dog eat dog” nature. If the dog didn’t belong, wasn’t fulfilling its role or was dragging the pack down in any way, it was cut. Done for. Eaten or beaten.

I usually get really sad when I’m in a pet store and see a little runt rat being picked on by its rat brothers and sisters (I dismiss the fact that the rat is actually snake food). Imagine how sad I was when I saw this all unfolding in the wolf sanctuary. The wolves didn’t even notice us humans standing at the fence watching their behaviors.

There was one scrawny wolf in the far back corner of the fenced area, quivering. It seriously looked as if this dog was going to die. My heart was breaking and I wanted to do something to help this poor animal, but I knew I couldn’t. It was survival of the fittest in their environment.
As we continued to watch the wolves, they definitely did not play like dogs. There was a severe purpose to every action among each other. They were strongly and agressively nipping each other, chasing each other and making intense eye contact with one another. It was unlike anything I have ever seen. It was extremely beautiful and they were simply pushing each other, submitting to their individual roles in their new pack.

I just had to ask the tenant if the scrawny wolf in the corner had any amazing destiny within its new pack and she explained that this particular wolf was the “Omega” and the packs future actually relied heavily on its existence. In a wolf pack, there is always a female and male Alpha (the leader/head of the pack), calling the shots, making the plans, and traveling the plains. They are the physically strong, loud and assertive ones that have to make the tough decisions of attacking and eating their own when the entire pack has to carry the dead weight of the one sick or useless wolf. All eyes are on these two. The whole pack listens and follows these two.

Every wolf pack also has a female and male “Omega” which is the tail end of the pack. These two dogs carry the stress and anxiety of the entire pack. During famine, the Omega eats last if at all and there is a lot of nipping, crying and anger driven towards these two. They are almost always the most badly beaten.

Here comes the punch line and the most beautiful part of it all…

When the female (or male) Alpha dies, the Omega automatically takes her place in the pack. She jumps the line and becomes leader. She becomes the first one to eat and the first one to plan the course. Her pack listens to her. Her pack respects her and begins to value her presence.

The Omega’s role in the pack is uniquely beautiful. It looks painful and lonely. But the Omega is the one that holds the entire pack together. Listening to all of the complaints, stresses and fears without opening her mouth regardless of how she feels. She is just there. The strong pillar that eats last. She is their refuge. She establishes confidence where there is fear. She impresses security where there is instability.

She learned to be a leader by serving.

Matthew 20:28 NLT
For even the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.