Every winter, Grace goes out into her cold backyard—she lives in Minnesota, so it's super cold—and watches the yellow-eyed wolf.
He comes out of the woods, but never close enough for her to touch him.
She wants to touch him. She's not afraid of him.
At the end of the chapter, she says that she never really made a connection about the wolves never appearing in the summer months. “I didn't really think about the time. I thought they were wolves. Only wolves” (3.8).
What else could they be? Bunnies? Old retirees spending their summers in Florida?