Personally, I doubt the identification of the animals in this story as “wolves,” but it’s as close as I know to the postulated event:
My brother has a very sweet pit bull named Linus, which was passed off as a “half beagle-half boxer” when he adopted it as a puppy. Linus loves to play with other dogs, and is very good about ignoring my psychotic dalmatian’s aggressive nervousness. He’s even been known to let a Jack Russell Terrier hang from his cheek by its teeth without becoming irritated.
One day, he was at the dog park and a gentleman there had a pair of what he claimed were pure blood timber wolves. Whatever they were, they were huge and impressive. The gentleman warned my brother that he’d better keep his dog from acting aggressive around them or they’d rip him up, which my brother readily agreed to.
The “wolves,” however, decided that they’d harrass poor Linus, nip at him, and so forth, until he became agitated. He’s a sweet dog, so it came as a surprise to my brother when he saw the first of the “wolves” go down, yelping. He raced in (stupidly–you don’t break up a dogfight by hand unless you want to lose a finger) in an attempt to control his dog, but Linus was too fast and the second “wolf” went down.
Luckily, despite being a “killer pitbull,” Linus was more than happy to accept surrender from other dogs once he’d mashed them into the dirt, and he didn’t seriously hurt them.
Unluckily, he decided that would be a good day to extract said surrender from every other dog in the dog park and racked up quite a few before my brother got him back under control (Linus is about 75-80 pounds of pure muscle, he’s probably a bit large for a traditional pitbull).
Needless to say, my brother is not allowed to bring Linus to that dog park anymore.