Seacrest Wolf Preserve allows guests to get up close and personal with their 30 “ambassadors’’

Wolves cannot hug. They have no arms. But they are loving, communicative animals with formal greeting traditions of their own, one of which is a “muzzle grab.”

And so, when Dreamer, among the largest of the 30 residents at Seacrest Wolf Preserve, took half of my face in his mouth, I felt many things. Including his long, sharp canines hooking my lower lip and — full-moon horror flicks notwithstanding — curling against the soft flesh of my throat.

Also, his tongue in my mouth.

What didn’t I feel? Fear. Not even a little. Only elation at his acceptance and affection.

Not all the guests on Seacrest’s Private VIP Tour — an extraordinary experience during which visitors are treated to singular interactions with an array of the preserve’s “wolf ambassadors” — have such intimate meet-and-greets. Guides explain ahead of time what to expect, and how to behave to encourage or discourage these more traditional wolf greetings.

I’ve had dogs my whole life, though. A little slobber wasn’t going to keep me from getting as close to these incredible beings as they would allow.

Seacrest was founded in 1999 by Cynthia and Wayne Watkins after the pair — avid conservationists — took in a wolf needing rescue. Their expansive property in Chipley, about midway between Tallahassee and Pensacola, had more than enough room and privacy.

But even in the wilds of largely rural and wholly dry Washington County, there were neighbors. And when eerie, unfamiliar sounds began emanating from the Watkins’ place, people started talking.

“It’s typical in small Southern towns,” jokes tour guide Lindsey Banks, a small-town Southerner herself.

But along with small talk, the South also boasts a wealth of Southern hospitality. The Watkinses invited townsfolk to meet their new rescue.

“People enjoyed it,” Banks says. “But what surprised Cynthia most were all the negative misconceptions they had about wolves.”

The Watkinses decided that education would be among their primary missions as the nonprofit came together.

Two decades later, Seacrest has 30 wolves comprising three packs on its property — Arctic, gray and British Columbian among them. Dreamer (my new boyfriend) is an Omega — as are all wolves younger than three years of age. Their status amid the pack cannot be established until they reach maturity — but the guides who spend their days with him say Dreamer may remain just where he is.

“Dreamer is a good name for him,” Banks says. “He’s all over the place.”

Size has nothing to do with which wolf becomes Alpha, or the pack leader. And Omegas can have important jobs within the pack.

Dreamer was the biggest pup ever born at Seacrest. At 2 years old, he is among the largest on property.

His grandfather, Minquah, was one of the largest wolves ever held in captivity: 153 pounds and 7 feet-long from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. Dreamer may break the record.

He is alert and fast, trotting to regularly survey the other side of the enclosure, racing back for more attention.

“Wolves are assigned to the roles that best suit their abilities,” says Dr. Alexandra Goodnight. “The fastest runners, the best hunters could easily be Omegas. Alpha wolves may not hunt at all. That role goes to the wolf who is the best leader, the one the other wolves trust.”

Goodnight, who has a doctorate in biology, has the name and occupation of a romance novel heroine. She hand-feeds wolves and lives her day-to-day among the packs.

Her backstory matches the profile, too. She found herself here after graduating from Emory University, looking for a break before the big job search.

“I’ve always been a wolf lover and came down to volunteer,” she says. “On my first day, they hired me.”

In the year-and-a-half since joining the staff, she’s seen an impressive uptick in visitors, a trend that’s been ongoing for the past three years.

“There was a YouTube video that went viral a while back,” she explains. “In four days, it had 4 million views, and the Saturday after it posted, we had 500 people show up at the gate.”

To be clear, Seacrest cannot accommodate so many at once, but they do have a popular (and far less expensive) experience available.

The Saturday Wolf Encounter ($35 per person, minimum age 10) allows for a similar up-close experience with the animals. This tour group usually falls between 100 and 200 people and includes a small animal encounter; Seacrest is also home to skunks, raccoons and foxes. There are add-ons, too, such as professional photography; cell phones and cameras are not permitted in wolf enclosures, though guests can bring disposable cameras if they choose.

The VIP Tour ($250 per person for the first two people — there is a two-person minimum; $150 for each additional) allows one personal device, but you’ll place it in the hands of your guide, who will snap 100-plus photos during your interaction.

All visits require a reservation — check with staff when booking in regards to the current COVID-19 policies.

We were active participants in our tour, asking questions for more than two hours as we moved from enclosure to enclosure. We began with the stunning Arctic wolves with their remarkable orange-amber eyes. A wary male surveyed our small pack of three, sniffing each of us before heading off.

Female Kaya was in another enclosure — we visited during breeding season; this year Seacrest is limiting pack expansion, so “it’s a little like a fraternity house,” Goodnight explained. Normally the pack is integrated, but they will remain separate until estrus (the females’ period of sexual receptivity) abates.

A cheeky youngster of about 3, Kaya’s demeanor is a product of a somewhat absentee leader. Her pack’s Alpha is now 16 — impressively old. He’s placed himself in a state of semi-retirement.

“Wolves only live an average of 6-to-8 years in the wild,” Goodnight says. Generally, wolves are avid disciplinarians, teaching youngsters how to live in the pack structure.

“He’s tired now. Kaya is a bit of a wild child as a result.”

Wild, but sweet and beautiful. We found her charming, even if some of her packmates might not. It was interesting, serial drama-like, to hear the guides speak of the pack members, their roles, who might ascend to lead, whether dual females could end up in charge here. In another enclosure, we met gray wolves and brothers, Apache and Mesa, both of whom exhibit potential Alpha qualities.

They jockeyed for position amid my daughters and me. Both wanted attention. Mesa moved against my hand, putting his body where he wanted scratches, not unlike a dog. His eyes are a rare pale green, beautiful and intelligent, but not at all dog-like.

In fact, a recent study found that dogs’ eyes have evolved muscles specifically to form soulful expressions, to emote and ultimately appeal to their human counterparts.

Wolves have no such muscle. Mesa knows people. He likes and accepts them (along with scratches), but despite his gentle nature and gentler kisses, he does not beg for French fries. He is wild.

He’s also everything that humans aspire to be, opines Goodnight.

“Wolves are family-oriented, loyal, trustworthy, honest, cooperative and committed,” she says. “And getting to come here and actually form a connection with a being whose qualities you are always seeking in other humans is beyond compare. There are no words to describe it.”

Mesa throws back his head and howls. We howl with him.

Packmates and unseen wolves from around the property throw their voices to the song. It is enough. No words are necessary.

If you go

Check the website or call ahead to confirm hours of operation and social-distancing rules. 3449 Bonnet Pond Road, Chipley; 850-773-2897, seacrestwolfpreserve.org

Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com

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