The Wild Wolf

There are days when the wolf brain takes over. Running wild down the street.
No calling, chasing, tying will calm the spirit down.

At times the tenderness shows too though. Each sister of mine is greeted with a sniff.
He insists on sitting next to them on the way to school.
Endless howling commences as we drop them off. The pack means a lot to him, more than anyone knows.

He’s most content if he can visit the doggy neighbors each morning. Greeting every human as well.
Slowly and steadily making his rounds.
Occasionally glancing back to make sure I am still playing his favorite game of follow the leader.

On nights when it’s raining and the wind is howling, and the horses are standing out alone. He sits by the door crying until we go out for his nightly routine of checking in on the herd.

Nights like tonight when he can’t rest until he has walked through mud and manure to touch each horse with his nose and I realize then that they have become a part of his pack too.

He has been particularly concerned with the new horse. Running to his side with overwhelming curiosity at the horse’s stressed whinnies.

After we’ve fed them all hay he goes to a horses grain bucket and looks at me. I know he’s telling me she wants an extra bite. So we grab a handful and feed her the sweet grain, he snags a few bites himself.

I close the barn door and we turn out the lights. We have become soaked from the heavy rain and he slowly walks up to the house. Looking over his shoulder exactly 4 times as if checking to see our now four horse herd to bed.

His cries and bites and growls and howls sometimes set an alarm in me to watch closely.

Follow his gaze, wait silently ready to hold him back; contained with a leash.

But he’s never intentionally caused harm. His pack means more than anything to him. Many meals and tasty meats have spoiled over his desire to be where the rest of his family is.

The sweet tenderness he carries in each step cracks my heart open every day. When I wake at dawn to the 80 pounds of fur cuddled up on my chest I can’t help but feel grateful for those mornings when all I can do is grab my shoes and coat and run endlessly with him,
The Wild Wolf