The Wolf Is My Brother

I am a lover of nature. I spent much time in my younger years roaming the woods around my house, camping an other related things. For a long time, I used to take walks in the woods for hours at a time every day after school. But these are not the only reasons that I am a lover of nature. For a period of time when I was very young, I lived with the wolves. That's right. In the woods, with the wolves. The wolf is my brother. The cave is my bedroom. And the forest is my home as much as any other.

The tale starts at an early age. When I was 4 years old and my family was expecting another child, my parents took a vacation to Catalina, I did not go along of course because this would be the last time they had to leave just one child behind for a vacation alone. Now staying home alone is not something you would normally expect of a 4 year old, and that was not what was planned. I was to be watched by a friend of the family, but complications arose and my parents had to leave before the friend showed up. While I was alone, I thought that I heard the dogs on the porch so I went out to see what was the commotion. I ended up following them into the woods where I soon forgot my purpose there and began wandering around. Shortly thereafter, the dogs disappeared to inspect a squirrel, rock, clod of dirt, or something else they deemed to smell more interesting than a wandering human child.

Eventually though, I came upon another group of dogs, except that these were wolves. Not only that but they didn't want to eat me, bite my head, or wolf me up in any other ways. The stood around and watched as I walked around them, oblivious to the fact that they were wolves. After a little while of my childish playing though, I tripped and fell. On the way down, I hit my knee and promptly began to gush tears. The wolves, however, did not tear my wailing throat from my neck, but picked me up with their teeth and wisked me away.

As a child, I didn't realize that I had actually been kidnapped by wolves. I never had wolf nightmares, and I liked dogs, which were basically just living stuffed animals that would occasionally have a bad day and bark at you. So I stayed with the wolves rather happily. It didn't take long for me to become adapted to living with them either, as they tumbled and played and encouraged me to hunt with them. Eventually the wolves became my brothers and I a member of their pack.

Above is a picture of my pack. Out of the pack, Red Tooth was the leader, and was the one who had picked me up originally. He was like my older brother while I lived in the woods. My very furry older brother. Cold Paw was always the cautious one, and even though we got along well he felt guilty for calling a human his brother. I can't say I hold it against him, why should a wolf trust a human even if he's only a child? Mangle was the 'tough' wolf. He wasn't the leader but always tried to be the first to pick off the deer or first to chase away the annoying squirrel that would come to annoy us in the cave. And Paul.. Well. Even wolves have their equivalent of the slow kid. Paul was the pup that the wolf doctor dropped on it's head. He was often seen trying to attack trees and chew rocks.

After a while though, my human parents returned home and found a very nervous friend who confessed to losing their child. When I heard them calling for me in the woods I knew that I had to go home. I would miss my wolf brethren dearly but they understood that I belonged among humans. It was a difficult goodbye but I thanked them and returned to society. Of course, no one believed that I had been living with wolves, but they were happy to have me back anyway. Even though I returned to the world of humans and never got labeled as "the biting kid" I still owe my closeness to nature to this experience.