Blonde By Nature

Yesterday, Friday August 24th 2007… I, without a doubt, wished that I never had gotten out of bed. Wolf got attacked on the way into Daycare by a wolf of another pack whom apparently had their Cheerios pissed in. Oy!

After receiving some not-so-fun news at work by the end of the day, I came home in a very sour mood. At this point, someone had definitely pissed in my snack-pack.

As usual, I arrive at home, ran up the stairs taking two at a time and the wolf lay in his cage freshly dirty and recently dropped off from Doggie Daycare. I delicately open the crate only to have him lunge out and do his “full body waglean.” He’s absolutely overjoyed to see me. His simple excitement eases my mood.

I place a phone call and my evening gets worse. A loved one I hold close to my heart carries a deep burden. Wish I had the money to fly home to see her. The conversation ends abruptly.

Sour mood returns with a vengeance. I pace around my house, unable to sit for fear of the walls closing in on me at this point. Behind me, following on my heels is a spirit-animal lurking and just in case I need to fall…he’s there to catch me. I stop, and he bumps into me at full force knocking me over. I end up on the ground on my back with him straddling me licking my face. My mood softens and he starts to talk…

Wolf was dieing to tell me, as I call them, “stories.” He has this way of communicating…it’s not just a bark. It is a full-out long howl of a conversation. He takes a deep breath, pushes his bottom jaw forward and let’s a aawhoooooo sound slide out between his teeth and lifts his head up to the moon - quietly at first, then after 30 seconds…a bit louder until I ask him what I should do to stop the walls from closing in, then aawho starts all over again. At least someone had a good day, I mumble; pissed-in Cheerio’s forgotten. I push him off, put my back up against the wall while he continues to tell me his stories and provide advice.

As I talk with my 4 legged beast, I start to imagine myself on all fours, playing with puppies, sitting on couches, fighting with Puff-puff - damn annoying white fluff who keeps yapping at me. Go for a couple walks to stretch my legs and show off how beautiful I am when I run and the sun bounces off my fur and say hello to every person who passes me by. Must be nice to be so simple.

My friends…that is the power of a wolf. It is a gift he gives to me on this day of hell. A gift of mental freedom - to be instantly lost in a world of cuddles, food and play just by his presence alone. How can I continue to carry sour grapes in my pockets, when he prances around, excited about 600 grams of chicken?

My days issues (which are big issues) aren’t solved…those will take time. But I will tell you this: for a few blissful moments sitting on my fur-filled hardwood floor getting advice (or was it a lecture?) from a tri-coloured beast, I realized that he managed something that not even winning the lottery could have accomplished. He managed to make me smile…

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