Regarding this story about the wolf-
Before I continue, I’ve got to say that of all the blogs I have written (from some of the responses I have received I guess I have written some gems), this blog, about the wolf, has generated the most controversy.
Many of you have written to say that you are confident what Monica and I saw that day was a dog. A few others have written to say this must be a joke.
But the absolute favorite response I have received comes from a woman who threatened my livelihood if I didn’t tell her the ending of the story immediately.
She said she would write a letter to the editor of the WaukeshaNOW page demanding I tell her- and if I didn’t, she wanted my blog pulled from the page, stating the wait was too agonizing and it was causing her pain and suffering.
Wow. I guess I should be flattered.
Or really scared.
Anyhow, I best finish the story before I lose my blogging privileges.
It was early on a Sunday morning and our walk was interrupted by a shadowy, four-legged figure looming in the wispy fog. As it approached, it was plain to see this figure was no dog.
As soon as it took form, it was also obvious this was no coyote.
Although my knowledge of wildlife is lacking, I can tell the difference between a dog and a coyote.
And without a doubt, I can tell the difference between a coyote and a wolf. Wolves are big.
A big coyote can stand the size of a healthy German Sheppard and are usually quite scrawny. This animal was waist high and looked like he hadn’t missed a meal.
From the looks of things, he was about to have two good breakfast snacks.
It was too late to run and quite frankly, my fear of the situation had now been overcome by curiosity.
I was curious as to whom this wolf was going to attack first. Would he wound me and eat Monica or vise versa? Would he kill us both? Or would he maim us both, slowly eat one, and then drag the other into the wildness for its young to feed on?
What actually happened next blew my mind..
The wolf, now two feet from us, stopped at our feet, sat down, and panted softly. I looked at Monica, she looked at me, and neither of us knew exactly what we should do.
My wife, whom I love dearly, has always had a “throw caution to the wind” approach when it comes to animals- I would compare her to Steve Irwin.
I, on the other hand, approach unfamiliar animals with discretion, something I learned when I was young.
A large snake in the yard means a call to Animal Control. To Monica it means “let’s go pick it up and look at it”.
So, staying true to fashion, as I looked for a logical response to a wolf sitting at my feet, Monica reached out to pet him.
I couldn’t believe it. First, a wolf was sitting in front me. Second, my wife was petting it.
Perhaps I was just dreaming the whole thing and any moment now Abe Lincoln was going to walk by and tell me he missed me.
Back to the story-
As Monica began to scratch the wolf behind his ears, she noticed something around his neck.
He was wearing a collar.
Now I know all of you folks that thought this was a dog are saying, “See, I told you it was a dog!”
This was no dog. His collar said so.
Monica inspected his collar and found a tag. Here’s what it said:
NAME: ANUK
BREED: WOLF
IF FOUND, PLEASE CONTACT: (local phone number)
Breed "wolf"?
Even though my fear was beginning to ease, I was now distressed over the fact it was still a wolf. Perhaps this was the smartest wolf ever and he had the collar made to entice people over to him so he could then kill them and drag them into the woods!
I know that sounds ridiculous but so does the idea of a wolf wearing a collar!
He appeared very friendly and as Monica leaned in to further inspect his tag, Anuk gave her a big, sloppy kiss (or taste test).
Relief was beginning to settle in now and problem one was solved- we survived our wolf attack. However, we had a new problem on our hands, what to do with Anuk. He was obviously lost (I don’t how someone wouldn’t notice this animal was missing form their home) and there was no one in sight to question.
So we did what we thought was best; we took him home and called the owners.
While Monica showed Anuk to his temporary holding area (our yard), I called the number on his tag. No one was home so I left a message.
I then stepped out back to see how Monica was doing with our new guest and it appeared everything was fine. She scratched Anuk behind the ears a minute and then let him free to explore his surroundings.
He marked his territory once. Then again. Then again and again and again. On the grass, on the new sod, on every tree, at every fence post, in the pond, on the lawn furniture and on every corner of the house.
He even marked our garden gnome. To this day I have neve
