For years, ranchers have butted heads with conservationists and the federal government – claiming that the endangered Mexican gray wolf is a serious threat to their local economies and public safety.
Federal data obtained by KUNM, however, tells a different story.
The Mexican wolf debate is not a new one. After almost going extinct from trapping and hunting, the lobo was reintroduced into New Mexico and Arizona over 28 years ago, sparking significant conflict and even fear among residents.
But discourse reached a tipping point last year at an emergency meeting in Catron County when commissioners issued a “disaster” declaration explicitly blaming the lobo for causing “extreme” economic injury.
Socorro County followed with a similar resolution, and nearby Sierra, Chaves, and Cibola counties filed declarations of support.
As a dominant apex predator, wolves are known to prey on everything from elk and deer to small mammals and birds – and, on occasion, ranchers’ pride and joy, and livelihood: their livestock.
During the special disaster declaration meeting, people from across Catron County described close encounters with wolves, fears of losing children, and huge losses of over “50 head” of cattle in a single year.
Then, just a few months later, residents packed into a New Mexico Game Commission meeting in Reserve to ask the state’s primary wildlife management regulatory body for help.
“My daughter was held up on horseback by two Mexican wolves when she was 13 years old,” Laura Schneberger, a rancher in western Sierra County said during public comment. “Our kids shouldn't have to be afraid.”
“I hurt every time I lose a cow or a calf,” said Mike Ware, a rancher from Wilcox, Arizona. “And right now I've got $22,700 in losses – one confirmed kill, just one confirmed kill, folks. That’s pretty sad.”
“The wolf program is literally putting the Catron County ranchers out of business,” said Cole Stuard, a 6th generation rancher with family roots in the area since the 1800s. “Everyone has to have a second job to make ends meet.”
“We also matter as much as wolves. Just because there's more humans on earth than wolves doesn't mean that I don't matter, my neighbor doesn't matter, my grandchildren don't matter,” said another resident, Elena Farr.
Contrary to popular belief, there has never been a documented case of a Mexican wolf attacking or killing a human.
Although the state helps manage the federally protected endangered species, the Mexican wolf recovery effort is largely headed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service – leaving New Mexico with little, if any, power.
In addition to the alleged threats to the state’s food supply and “national security,” Catron County says that the mere presence of wolves forces out the area’s world-renowned trophy elk bulls, a notably large economic boon around the Gila Wilderness.
Landowners in Catron County sued the state of New Mexico in 2021 arguing a thriving elk population was ravaging their properties. A judge threw out the suit in early June.
It isn’t uncommon to hear stories about alarmingly high numbers of dead livestock at the hands of a Mexican gray wolf, especially in a short time span.
For example, back in April, New Mexico Cattle Growers Association President Tom Patterson told KUNM that he had neighbors who had lost “multiple” baby calves this spring and one of his neighbors “lost 78 head of baby calves since the first of January.”
The time period from February through April and May is when wolves typically start to exploit a seasonal pattern that aligns perfectly with the calving season.
And while it’s undeniable that Catron and Arizona’s Apache County bear the brunt of Mexican wolf depredations, official records obtained and compiled by KUNM show yearly kill counts are too small to support these large claims.
For instance, Catron – where Patterson owns and operates a ranch – is actually seeing a decreasing rate of livestock deaths, even as the state’s wolf population soars. This trend is mirrored across the Mexican wolf’s recovery area.
Estimates are hard to pinpoint, but according to its 2018 Forest Plan, about 18,750 cow-calf pairs were authorized to graze in the lobo’s primary habitat on the Gila National Forest that spans some of Catron County.
In fact, the county’s wolf killings reached their peak in 2019, when federal and local investigators documented 121 probable and confirmed livestock deaths, or about 0.65% of the area’s smallest estimated cattle population.
That year, close to $186,000 was paid out for all depredations by the state.
Ranchers refute these numbers, saying they fail to account for decomposing carcasses that are difficult to examine and small calves that go completely missing from large range allotments.
The evidentiary standards to confirm wolf kills have fluctuated over time, but they’ve recently become more formalized – requiring definitive evidence of bleeding underneath the skin and certain incisor markings. A new Trump Administration ranching plan may revert these changes to make it much easier to attribute livestock deaths to wolves and other predators.
There are two primary avenues to receive direct loss compensation.
New Mexico’s state-level County Livestock Loss Authority (CLLA) will pay for 100% of the current fair-market livestock value for a probable or confirmed loss. This money comes out of Congress, the New Mexico legislature, and contributions from Catron, Sierra, and Socorro counties.
Then, there is the USDA Farm Service Agency’s Livestock Indemnity Program (LIP) – which used to pay up to 75% of a livestock’s value. Now, as a result of President Donald Trump’s recently signed One Big Beautiful Bill Act, the program covers the full market value of livestock killed by Mexican wolves. Generally, this fund doesn’t compensate for probable wolf kills.
It is unclear if both funding sources can be tapped for the same individual depredation.
Alternatively, other financial losses incurred by a cow’s stress-induced weight loss and reduced reproductive success from the wolf’s presence are not covered.
Regardless, these investigations and their accompanying documentation are crucial to ensuring ranchers are either partially, or wholly compensated for any livestock losses.
Carter Niemeyer is a retired US Fish and Wildlife Service biologist with over 40 years of experience working with wolves across the country, including New Mexico. He has also personally examined hundreds of dead livestock as one of these investigators.
“Predation by wolves is very rare,” Niemeyer told KUNM. “It’s very low.”
But, when livestock depredations do happen, Niemeyer said they are concentrated in what he calls “site areas” where wolves want to live. Generally, he said that will affect a very small percentage of livestock operators.
Still, Niemeyer is quick to critique claims of large livestock losses, especially within these short periods of time.
“I am a huge skeptic of missing livestock,” Niemeyer said. “If you're out 50 head of cattle on one ranch, you will notice this… you got birds, you got decomposition, you have odor, you have carcass remains.”
Data obtained on livestock depredation compensation by KUNM shows that small calves make up the bulk of claims, followed by cows.
The range of compensation for baby cows suggests that they were very young – and therefore not as valuable – when they were preyed upon.
According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the average non-predator yearly death rate for calves hovers around 6% – far above the damage done by wolves.
One commonly cited 2025 University of Arizona study funded and aided by pro-ranching lobbying groups found that, among surveyed ranchers, depredation impacts were heavily concentrated among a very small number of livestock operations.
Separately, the study’s analysis of county-level data in New Mexico and Arizona found the wolf’s economic effects on both cattle inventories and livestock sales “are not detectable.”
For Catron County specifically, researchers found a statistically significant shortfall in livestock sales when compared to other counties since wolves were reintroduced. Though, they stopped short of attributing it specifically to the wolf.
Niemeyer acknowledges that some ranches may be more disproportionately affected than others, but there are so many more complicating factors to consider – like disease, scavenging, the alarming trend of stolen livestock, and whether cows were undergoing medical treatment when they disappeared or died.
To him, it’s unfair to point the finger at wolves, especially because it’s a species that roamed the West long before the modern-day sprawl of cities, ranches, and farmland.
“I have never, not to this day, after 40 years of working with wolves and the lower 48, have seen a documented case of a ranch going under,” Niemeyer said. “Sorry, folks. Predators – they’re out there.”
