It Takes a Pack: What African Wild Dogs Taught Me About Care

[We invited Animal-Kind International supporter, Alexandra George, to tell us about her experiences with African wild dogs in the Okavango.]

Eleven pups, guided by their mother and father, learning the rhythms of a life that depends on cohesion, care and space, Okavango. (Credit: Jenny Brennan)

 The first thing I learned about African wild dogs is that survival is rarely loud. Often, it looks like waiting.

At dawn in Botswana’s Okavango ecosystem, while most of a wild dog pack slipped quietly into the bush, one female, Krakatoa, remained behind. She paced, stopped, listened and paced again. Her ears never rested. Her eyes scanned constantly. She was an alpha female – a mother – standing guard near a den where her pups waited.

At the den, the mother waits. While the rest of the pack is away, vigilance and responsibility fall to her alone, Okavango. (Credit: Alexandra George)

Care Begins with Waiting

For two mornings, I watched this scene unfold while spending time with a wild dog pack monitored by the Botswana Predator Conservation Trust (BPCT), alongside Peter Brack, head of BPCT’s Wild Dog Project. What struck me most during those hours was not action, but responsibility.

The pack had gone out on the morning hunt. Krakatoa, the alpha female stayed behind, burdened with the welfare of many unseen lives. Fifteen hungry mouths waited below ground. Every distant sound drew her attention. When one or two pack members returned, then another, then another still, she ran to greet them – hopeful, searching. On one morning, the hunt brought no food. The dogs did not regurgitate a meal for the pups. Her agitation was unmistakable. The cost of an unsuccessful hunt was not abstract; it was immediate and personal.

Raising the Young Is a Collective Act

We often describe wild dogs as exceptional hunters… and they are. But what is less often acknowledged is that they are also among the most devoted caregivers in the animal world. The entire pack is involved in raising the young. Mothers are not alone in their responsibility. Males and females babysit. Adults who did not give birth feed pups through regurgitation. Others stand watch while the pack rests in shaded piles, bodies pressed together, coats mottled like brushstrokes across the grass.

While the pack rests, one remains alert. Shared vigilance, supported by monitoring, helps protect the whole. Moremi. (Credit: Alexandra George)

Care is not delegated. It is shared. 

In another moment, I watched that same ethic expressed through play. Pups chased one another, nibbled, wrestled, and played tug-of-war with bits of skin. Parents lay nearby, observing. These were not idle games. They were lesson in coordination, restraint, strength and trust. Even at play, the pack was teaching.

That same ethic carried forward as a mother and her pup moved in step.

Play is practice. Tug-of-war builds coordination, restraint and trust, Moremi. (Credit: Jenny Brennan)

Leaving the den, a pup keeps close to its mother – learning pace, direction and trust, Moremi, Okavango.  (Credit: Jenny Brennan)

Why This Care Needs Protection

African wild dogs are among the most social and interdependent animals on Earth. Their success depends not on individual dominance, but on cooperation and cohesion. And that same social structure makes them vulnerable. When habitat is fragmented, when a snare catches a single animal, when disease or conflict removes one key member, the consequences ripple through the entire pack.

This is where BPCT’s work becomes essential.

Krakatoa, an alpha female from a BPCT-monitored pack in the Okavango. (Credit: Alexandra George)

For decades, BPCT has combined long-term scientific research with careful field monitoring, community engagement, and conflict mitigation. Their approach is patient and deeply respectful, focused not on interfering with wild dogs, but on understanding how they move through shared landscapes and how human-wildlife conflict can be reduced before it becomes fatal. Time spent in the field made clear that conservation, at its best, is not dramatic. It is observant. It is deliberate. It stays through the quiet hours.

Why I Chose to Act

After watching a mother wait through the morning light, and a pack quietly resume its collective rhythm, I felt compelled to do more than bear witness.

With protection, the pack survives and thrives (Credit: Steve Segall)

I have launched a small personal fundraising campaign to support BPCT’s wild dog conservation work. If this story resonates with you, I invite you to learn more or contribute at https://www.givengain.com/campaign/join-us-in-saving-african-wild-dogs

Even small contributions – $5 or $10 – add up, and help sustain the patient, science-based work that allows these extraordinary animals to persist.

African wild dogs remind us that care is not a weakness, and survival is not solitary.

It takes a pack.

Author’s note

This article reflects the author’s personal field experience and independent fundraising initiative in support of African wild dog conservation and does not represent an official Animal-Kind.org campaign.