“The wolf already knows we’re here.”

Avery Tilley is carefully checking traps hidden in the dense Great Lakes forest, which has exploded in shades of new, green growth.

“They know we’re up to something,” says the Indigenous vet student. “They’re smarter than us.”

Located on the U.S.-Canada border, the Grand Portage Band of Ojibwe regularly tracks the wolf population, pack sizes and dynamics, and health. Any wolf stepping into a trap is tranquilized before getting a radio collar and blood test. To minimize wolf stress, the research happens only outside of too-warm Summer months.

“When we catch a wolf, we give it an identification number. We also give it an Ojibwe name, so that way you know we’re holding that level of personhood to the wolf.”

In Ojibwe culture, wolves are considered brothers – not vicious killers. This deep relationship is why the Grand Portage Band invited Tilley’s research testing tranquilizers that are less problematic than a conventional mix that includes ketamine. Similar to Narcan’s effect on humans who’ve digested opioids, a counter dose from Tilley rouses the wolf within minutes, allowing quicker release back into the woods.

“Tribes across the U.S. have since time immemorial had relationships with these animals,” says Tilley, a Cherokee Nation citizen. “Now there are these new threats popping up with these diseases…and not enough people are addressing it from an Indigenous perspective.”

He cites a long list of diseases impacting moose, deer, bison, and other culturally significant animals, nearly all of which spring from climate change. As with “brainworm” that shares linkages between moose and deer, the diseases often are interconnected. And with the Covid-19 pandemic and bird flu outbreaks, connections can extend from wildlife to humans.

“The Western approach focuses on population size, abundance, and genetic health,” he says. “Indigenous knowledge adds an understanding of how to care for and treat animals, what they provide, and their migration patterns and ecosystems.”

Tilley believes solutions can be found in more holistic approaches combining Western science and Indigenous science (or traditional ecological knowledge). If diseases are interconnected, then solutions should be, too.

Seeking to become one of the first U.S. Indigenous veterinarians focused on wildlife, Tilley is part of a movement reshaping wildlife conservation. At Michigan State University, he earned a dual major in fisheries and wildlife and in genomics and molecular genetics. Now he’s about halfway through the doctorate of veterinary medicine program at the University of Georgia.

In 2021, Tilley was elected by peers as a rising leader at the AISES Leadership Summit, and later served twice as a regional student representative. He received AISES agriculture science scholarships. Among other accolades, he’s a National Geographic Young Explorer, co-founder of Natives in VetMed (NVM), and a Darwin Conservation Leader.

As a boy visiting family in Oklahoma, Tilley recalls seeing bison for the first time with his grandfather, who shared how bison–much like Cherokee ancestors–had been driven to the brink of extinction. Today bison symbolize resilience for many tribes, and they represent the heart of Tilley’s conservation mission.

Back in the forest, the Indigenous researcher plays a game of cat-and-mouse with a wily wolf, in between fighting off mosquitoes.

“It takes so much skill to get them to step in one exact spot in the infinity of the forest,” he says of placing a trap, even steps from an old logging road.

“Wolves are pretty particular,” he explains. “If given the option, they don’t really want to walk through the woods. They don’t really want to step on gross stuff or sticks…Using the road is beneficial because it’s kind of like a super highway for them.”