Sangay Glass's Blog, page 3

Ecological Grief with a Side of Erosion

Yes, I’ve cried over a dead wolf.

Yes, I’ve yelled at a developer tearing down forest for a golf club.

And yes, I’ve written angry notes in the margins of environmental impact reports.

That's ecological grief in real time. It’s what happens when you care enough to notice what’s missing in our world, in our parks, in our yards.

But here’s the thing:

Grief means you’re still in the game. You're still showing up. You're still planting native wildflowers and hoping they take root.

Some days the world breaks your heart. Other days, a wolf howls back. And you keep going...for those days.

How do you deal with it?
Swear a little. Hike a lot. Hug a dog.
Then go do something that matters, however small.

~Jess Taylor~Check out my story July 25th in paperback and Kindle

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

Dam! What Just Happened?

A beaver and a wolf walk into an ecosystem… everything changes.

Most people don’t realize, wolves don’t just eat deer. They sometimes go after beaver. Yes, the adorable, buck-toothed engineers of the wetlands. And that little predation habit? It rewires entire landscapes. Here’s how:

~Beaver Change the Landscape~
Beavers build dams, flood valleys, and create lush wetland habitats. These “pondscapes” support amphibians, birds, fish, and carbon storage. They're keystone species>terraformers with teeth.

~Wolves Eat Beaver~
In some regions, wolves have learned to hunt beaver more than deer, especially in spring and summer when deer are elusive. During peak seasons beaver can make up to 60% of a pack’s diet. Some wolves have adapted to ambush beaver on land where they’re easier to catch because scent trails lead straight to them.

What happens when wolves eat too many beavers?
Less beaver = fewer dams.
Fewer dams = dried-up wetlands.
Dried-up wetlands = habitat loss for frogs, moose, otters, and songbirds.
Suddenly, one predator-prey relationship is shaping the whole ecosystem.

So, are wolves good or bad?

The answer is :

Wolves are part of the balance. They regulate herbivores like deer and semi-aquatic engineers like beavers. The trick isn’t picking sides. It’s understanding that balance doesn’t mean “unchanging.” It means dynamic.
So, what happens when a beaver pond dries up?

Wolves unlock "Early Successional Habitats." It’s like a pop-up bar for moose, ground-nesting birds, and every predator with a nose.

Every time a wolf takes down a beaver, a chain reaction begins. Sometimes it heals. Sometimes it breaks. Ecology isn’t about harmony. It’s about tension and timing… on bark, banks, and beaver.

Coming July 25th

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

Field Notes from Jess Taylor: Why I Threw Up for a Pup

Yes, I regurgitated food for a wolf pup.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t pretty. It was instinct.

If you’re grossed out, congratulations. You’re human. But if you’re a wolf pup? It’s just another post-hunt ritual.

Here’s why this wild, ancient behavior exists, and why doing it felt more like biology than parenting.

Why do Wolves Regurgitate for Pups?

~Survival~
Around 3 to 4 weeks old, pups are weaned off milk—but they’re not ready to hunt. So adults step in. They bring back partially digested food and offer it up the natural way: by throwing it up. This gives the pups soft, warm meat they can digest easily.

~Trust~
The pup has to lick and nuzzle an adult’s mouth to trigger the regurgitation reflex. It’s tactile, intimate, and complexly involuntary. Though some humans and animals, like birds do it voluntarily to feed their young.

~Everyone Participates~
It’s not just the mom or dad. Aunts, uncles, even unrelated packmates will feed the pups. Cooperative care like this is rare in the animal world, but wolves wrote the book on it.

~It Teaches~
This is how pups learn what meat tastes like. One day it’s beaver. Next, it’s deer. By the time they’re old enough to trail a scent or join a chase, they already know what they’re chasing, and how it should feel in their bellies.

~It’s Literally Gut Instinct~
Shared food helps pups develop the right gut bacteria to digest meat. It’s nature’s gross little probiotic handshake.

So yes, I did it.
I felt the pressure rise, bent forward, and fed the pup with what I had. Not because I was told to because I had to.

And in that moment, feral, raw, maternal, I realized something: I wasn’t just studying wolves anymore. I was becoming more and more like one.

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

Field Notes and Fun Facts from Jess Taylor

People think field biology is majestic.
Today I sifted through poop, labeled it "Sample 12B," and called it "significant."
I am majestic.

Fun Facts

Scat is a social message board.
Wolves use poop like a group text to mark trails, territory, and letting other wolves know they’ve passed through. It's often placed right in the middle of trails on purpose to be seen and smelled.

You can tell what they've eaten, no lab required.
Wolf scat often contains hair, bone fragments, and even teeth from prey. During winter, it’s extra hairy (think: deer season); in summer, it might show signs of smaller prey or even berries.

It’s one of the best non-invasive tools for field research.
Researchers can gather DNA, hormone levels (stress, reproductive status), and diet information all from scat, no need to trap or collar a single wolf.

Size and shape give away more than you’d think.
Wolf scat is usually 1 to 1.5 inches in diameter and twisted at the ends, distinct from coyotes, which tend to be smaller and more segmented. If it’s full of hair and smells like death, it’s a good find.

Freshness matters.
If it’s still warm or shiny, you're too close. But fresh scat is gold for researchers. It's when DNA and hormone markers are most intact.

Sometimes they poop where they sleep.
A surprise to some, wolves may defecate near or even in their dens when they're sick, stressed, or marking close-range territory, especially if a den is abandoned or being defended.

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

Today’s Topic: "Can You Love the Land and Still Kill What Lives On It?

Jess Taylor grew up wild running traplines with her dad, setting snares, handling “nuisance” animals, and selling parts and pelts, sometimes under the table, sometimes outright illegally. But somewhere along the line, something shifted.

She was done with killing.

So she took a different path. Jess became a wildlife biologist, chasing the holy grail she once believed impossible: coexistence in the wilderness she still called home.

Let’s talk about the uncomfortable truth behind predator control, cultural inheritance, and what it means to grow up in a world where killing animals is a way of life—and then choose to protect them instead. Jess’s story isn’t just fiction. It echoes countless real-world stories of trappers turned trackers, hunters turned healers. Can both be true? Can both be right?

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

For the Love of Maggie

This is a love story of remarkable transformation of fear turned to trust, and of a life made worthy of the respected title: ambassador. You can watch the YouTube video here

I worked in domestic-bred wolf and wolfdog rescue, socializing and training the animals to improve their chances of rehoming.

Maggie and her sister were found in a fenced-off crawlspace beneath a porch. The owner was hoarding exotic animals. The sisters were about a year old, intended for breeding. When authorities arrived, their initial solution was to euthanize everything. Fearing the animals, they believed the most efficient method was to shoot them.

Thanks to a quick-thinking team, the sisters were pulled to safety, but with nowhere to go. Eventually, they made their way to our rescue. They were terrified. For days, they did nothing but pace, searching for an escape.

Socializing wolfdogs is a slow, delicate process. Wolves are naturally wary of humans, and of anything new. And I mean anything. A fallen tree branch could send one cowering into a corner for hours. But eventually, one of the sisters came around. Maggie.

Once Maggie began to trust, her sister followed. They started making real progress. Unfortunately, Maggie developed a foot issue that required a cast. Since I had dry facilities at home for medical boarding, I took her in.

That’s where she bloomed. She even got bold enough to leap into my car for daily hikes.

But when she returned to the rescue, things took a turn. She and her sister could no longer share a space. Female wolfdogs are prone to same-sex aggression—and they tried to kill each other. Maggie returned to my home, this time to recover from what was nothing short of evisceration.

I already had three female dogs and couldn’t keep her long-term. So began the challenge of finding her a permanent home.

Adopting out a wolfdog is no small feat. First, not every state or county in the US permits them. Then, adopters need serious experience with independent breeds, like huskies. Dogs who only obey when they see the point.

An applicant came along with experience volunteering at a wolfdog sanctuary in California. I’ll admit I was wary. The woman he was a former Playboy model. But we spent hours talking. She built a proper enclosure. We went over every potential issue. I made handling videos, and after months of preparation, Maggie went to her new home.

And to my surprise, I came to genuinely like and respect the adopter. We became friends, bonded by our love for Maggie. As the video she later shared shows, it worked out beautifully.

But not forever.

After several years, Maggie was rehomed again. This time to a California wolfdog sanctuary. Her owner’s husband was called to serve in a state where wolfdogs weren’t legal. It wasn’t a failure. By then, Maggie was transformed. No longer afraid of people, she thrived until her passing a few years ago.

Wolfdogs have earned a bad reputation because people don’t understand them. We cling to the myth of the Big Bad Wolf and label wolfdogs as wild, dangerous creatures.

But Maggie,a high-content wolfdog, was anything but. She offered only trust, forgiveness, and respect. And she’s not alone.

True wolfdogs aren’t just wolves acting like dogs. They’re thoughtful, emotionally complex animals who give us chance after chance to prove we’re worthy of their love.

Let’s not let them down. Reject the myths. Learn the truth about both wolves and wolfdogs.

Coming July 25th

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

Conservation Isn’t Cute: The Uncomfortable Truth About Wolves

We love wolves when they’re printed on T-shirts or howling at the moon in pixel-perfect documentaries. But real conservation is messy. It’s blood in the snow and lawsuits in the courts. It’s science colliding with politics, tradition, and fear.

Wolves aren’t just apex predators. They’re flashpoints. Talk about bringing them back, and you’ll hear cheers, threats, and sighs of exhaustion, all from people who love the land.

In the U.S., wolf conservation isn’t about saving a species. It’s about deciding who gets to define balance: ranchers trying to protect their livelihood, activists chasing rewilding dreams, scientists crunching data, and Indigenous communities whose voices often get pushed aside despite sometimes having ancestral knowledge of ecosystem balance.

We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves lives in that discomfort. The wolves in the novel aren’t just animals, they’re symbols of everything we want to control, fix, or pretend we understand. And Jess Taylor, like many in the real world, is caught between love, guilt, and the need to do something.

Because that’s the truth no one wants to admit about conservation. Sometimes you do the right thing, and it still feels wrong.

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves coming July 25th Follow me for updates and giveaways.

An Adirondack Myth, a Scientific Mystery, and a Second Chance

For over a century, wolves were absent from the Adirondacks, driven out by bullets and bounties, forgotten by the forests, and replaced by silence. But in We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves, they return quietly, defiantly, as if they never left.

This isn’t just a story about conservation. It’s about the places inside us that go wild when we’re pushed too far. About the myths we inherit and the ones we become.

Jess Taylor thought she was going back into the field to observe a breeding pair of wolves. What she didn’t expect was a reckoning, with nature, memory, and the consequences of control disguised as care.

This book is for readers who love psychological thrillers laced with folklore, dark humor, and the ache of becoming something new. The wolves are back. But they’re not the only ones.

Follow me read all about it July 25th!

Don't Pity The Forest

That tree growing out of stone? The fox shivering through a snowstorm?

They don’t need our sympathy.

They’re not suffering. They’re adapting. Thriving, even.

Life out here isn’t a guarantee. It’s a negotiation. A battle. A gift you earn with every breath.

No one out here expects to be saved.

But if you’re lucky, you learn to respect the will it takes to keep going.

The struggle. The silence. The glory of staying alive.
That’s not weakness. That’s the wild.

Jess Taylor, We Were Meant to Be Wolves, an eco-thriller coming this summer.

Why Are Adirondack Trails So Gnarly?

Not that long ago—just over a century—these woods were stripped bare. The trees here built cities like New York, Albany, and Buffalo. What’s wilderness now was once cleared to the stone. Only the least accessible places stayed untouched. The rest? Clearcut, churned, and eroded to bedrock.

When the country began waking up to the value of wild spaces—when science and health movements pushed for cleaner air, protected land, and something like ecological harmony—the Adirondacks were a wreck. But people came anyway, drawn by the scars and the silence.

Early hikers followed rock. Trails formed not by design but by necessity—stone ridgelines, logging scars, deer paths. Over time, dirt settled. Trees returned. But with bedrock so close to the surface, their roots had no choice but to grow outward—across trails, over rock, twisted like veins.

That’s why Adirondack trails are brutal. No switchbacks. No smoothing for comfort. Just roots, stone, and mud that shift beneath your boots. Hiking here isn’t easy. But it’s honest.

This place rebuilt itself with time and breath. And if you pay attention, the trails will show you exactly what that kind of recovery looks like.

You're not walking a trail. You're walking through recovery.

- Jess Taylor We Were Meant to be Wolves, an Adirondack eco-thriller coming this summer.