Angelique, you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? You must’ve sensed I was feeling good. Why couldn’t you just leave me the hell alone?! Haven’t you done enough damage?
She picked up her gold pen and hurled it across the room…
Jack sat at the kitchen table, his attention on the black wolf with the fucked-up foot.
It had been three days. One trip to the vet yielded surgery, medicated ointment, stitches, and a plan to release it back into the wild in a few weeks, but the poor fellow would never be a sprinter again. The wolf looked up at him with hooded eyes and licked his chops at the sight of Jack indulging in a big, steaming bowl of wild rice and shredded turkey. He’d been looking forward to it all day, after a long evening at work.
“Don’t look at me like that. I just fed you. Twice.” He added a bit of pepper, then scooped more of the rice and meat into his mouth. The mutt whimpered, as if just watching him eat the delicious food was a slow torture. A cruel and unusual punishment.
“All of my bison is gone because of you… So are the hamburgers.” The wolf rested his chin on his front paws, looking really pathetic. Then, its stomach rumbled.
“Fine!” Jack got up from his seat, grabbed the cereal bowl he’d be using to feed the beast from, and filled it with a few heaping spoonfuls of the mixture. The wolf got up happily, tongue wagging, and within seconds, the bowl was licked clean. Then, the sad look returned to its face when it stared at the stove as if to say, “That’s where you keep it. That’s where the magic happens.”
Jack burst out laughing and shook his head.
“You’re a character, you know that? You need a name. I didn’t want to name you though because I think I’m kinda getting used to you. That makes it too personal. I’m going to have to let you go eventually. You don’t belong in a house.”
When he said that, the oddest thing happened. The wolf’s ears drooped, as if it strongly disagreed and was saddened by such a statement. Jack couldn’t get over how gorgeous it was—couldn’t have been more than four years old, and yet, was muscular and quite strong. Probably what had helped him survive such an accident. The wolf hadn’t become aggressive after that first night and was rather docile indoors. Outside, however, it was another matter. It would howl, snarl, chase, even on its bum foot, and ward off animals it sensed coming near the home. It was becoming territorial, too, leaving markings, pissing in the snow, all around the perimeter of the land.
Riff Raff thought it lived there. That this was home. Maybe it was?
“You know, my old Indian friend told me that we don’t choose animals. They choose us.”
Jack shoved more food into his mouth, then chased it with a gulp of water. The wolf looked at him as if it really understood every single word he said. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. Maybe they understand more than we give them credit for? I haven’t had a pet since Chad was a boy… Without further thought, he stood up and howled. The wolf also stood, looking stoic and at attention. “You need to go outside, boy?” He pointed to the back door. The wolf began to jump and down. “Okay, come on, let’s go then. I’ve been trying to train you to ring this bell.” He’d attached a bell to the back door for the wolf to push against, letting him know it needed to get out there and do its business. So far, it hadn’t panned out.
“Don’t want you having an accident in the house.” He snatched his coat from the chair and slipped it on. “Last time, the hot vents in the house picked up the piss and shit odor, and you about made me pass out from the fumes. That’ll teach me to not wake up when you try to rouse me by licking my face.”
Moments later, they were in the backyard, the sun setting, and the sky full of maroon, canary yellow, and dark blue streaks. Some of the snow had melted, indicating the temperature had risen a few degrees during the day, and the rays of sunshine were doing a good job, too. The wolf moved about, sniffing here and there, then hitched its leg. It moved around the vast backyard, an open plain that seemed to have no boundaries, no beginning and no end, then crouched down low, taking a shit behind a tree. Jack shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and looked about.
No matter how many times he’d seen the sun set, it was always like the first time. So beautiful, yet also sad. Another day had come and gone. A day he’d never see again. The black beast darted off after something—perhaps a small squirrel. He stood there watching, and bum foot and all, the wolf was determined to catch its prey. It was now shaking something small and gray in its mouth, back and forth like a rag doll. Jack had given countless talks to people about the dangers of trying to tame wild animals, to see them as babies or cute. They weren’t adorable, and they’d tear you to shreds if they felt the least bit threatened. Here he was now wrestling with his own hypocrisy.