Deborah Warrick

At the end of a dirt road that slices a jagged path into one of Ventura County's most remote and wild canyons, past the posts that warn strangers to "Keep Out," a wolf's soulful howl cuts through the night. On a rocky hilltop in front of a small white house, the howl becomes contagious. Soon 12 wolves, exercising a primal urge, stretch their heads to the sky and groan and wail into the canyon. The noise jolts Deborah Warrick from her sleep, but she has no fear.

Deborah Warrick has moved her pack of wolves and other wild animals from Thousand Oaks to Paso Robles, but she still can't shake the legal problems that dogged her here. Warrick, 42, left her Soul of the Wolf wildlife sanctuary in remote Carlyle Canyon in September under pressure from Ventura County officials. Now she faces charges in San Luis Obispo County. The nonprofit center is home to a cougar, leopard, lion and tiger.

Deborah Warrick has moved her pack of wolves and other wild animals from Thousand Oaks to Paso Robles, but she still can't shake the legal problems that dogged her here. Warrick, 42, left her Soul of the Wolf wildlife sanctuary in remote Carlyle Canyon in September under pressure from Ventura County officials. Now she faces charges in San Luis Obispo County. The nonprofit center is home to a cougar, leopard, lion and tiger.

At the end of a dirt road that slices a jagged path into one of Ventura County's most remote and wild canyons, past the posts that warn strangers to "Keep Out," a wolf's soulful howl cuts through the night. On a rocky hilltop in front of a small white house, the howl becomes contagious. Soon 12 wolves, exercising a primal urge, stretch their heads to the sky and groan and wail into the canyon. The noise jolts Deborah Warrick from her sleep, but she has no fear.

I've been to the soul of the Wolf Wildlife Sanctuary. I was lucky enough to be able to actually touch several big cats and, of course, the wolves. Many of these animals wouldn't even be alive without Deborah Warrick. I can still hardly believe I really touched wolves who, last time I checked, were endangered. Well, now they're endangered again, aren't they? Nicole Donner was quoted as saying that if she were a neighbor and had kids, she'd want to know what was next door. What neighbors?

Regarding the article May 30 titled "Wildlife Sanctuary's Future Is Endangered," I would like to clarify a couple of issues. First, I do have permits for my exotic animals. I have a California Fish and Game exhibitor license, as well as a U.S. Department of Agriculture federal animal welfare license. I have had both licenses since 1992. The only license I'm missing is a Ventura County conditional use permit. Secondly, regarding the conditional use permit, when I first moved to this property in 1992, I telephoned the Ventura County Planning Department to find out if I needed zoning clearance.

Enforcement officers from the Ventura County Planning Department are closing in on Deborah Warrick, who has operated a wildlife sanctuary without proper permits for more than four years. Acting on a complaint from an unidentified resident earlier this year, officials visited the refuge and ordered Warrick to obtain a permit or get rid of her creatures. "I have until Sept. 30 to get a permit or get out," Warrick said glumly.

Deborah Warrick cringes every time she hears the fairy tale "The Three Little Pigs"--or, for that matter, "Little Red Riding Hood" and "Peter and the Wolf." Such innocent-seeming tales, she said, wrongly portray wolves as ravenous beasts that prey on children, as in a passage from the famous Grimms Brothers fairy tale: "When she got to the wood, she met a wolf; but Red Riding Hood did not know what a wicked animal he was. . . .

At the end of an unassuming dirt road that slices a jagged path into one of Ventura County's most remote and wild canyons, past the posts that warn strangers to "Keep Out," a wolf's soulful howl cuts through the night. On a rocky hilltop, in front of a small white house, the howl becomes contagious. Soon 12 wolves, pushed by primal urge, stretch their heads to the sky and groan and wail into the canyon. The noise jolts Deborah Warrick from her sleep, but she has no fear.