When You Live With a Wolf

When you live with a wolf,
you learn about
connection:
to the wild,
and to another being,
deeply,
without barriers,
even speech,
because, so often,
your minds meet
and, sometimes,
he tries to talk.

When you live with a wolf,
you must seek out
the wild places
daily.
He must never
be caged,
or enclosed
or tied up,
for his spirit must
run free and unfettered,
as it would with his pack.
He resists all restraints,
refuses to submit,
remains Alpha,
stays with you because
he chooses to,
not because you make him.

Living with you
is a negotiation he makes,
because he loves you,
but you know
that he relinquishes a lot;
it is a compromise he makes,
in giving up the wild
to live in a house
with you.
Walls remain foreign
to his substance.
He will eat a doorjamb,
of an afternoon,
to be Out
rather than In.

When you live with a wolf,
his intelligence and devotion
shine in his eyes,
which never leave you.
They follow you as you move
about the house.
They watch your halting progress
around the yard.
He remains on the alert
for danger,
lies at the front edge of the yard
where he can survey
all goings and comings.
He is ready to protect you,
places his body between
you and any threat.

But when you are walking
through the forest,
by the river
or along the beach,
then he is gone
far ahead,
his spirit joyously
at one with the wild,
and he wont come back
until he is ready.

He loops back
to check on you
every now and then,
and he always knows
just where you are.
When it is time, he will return
and, with resignation
and a heartfelt sigh, 
climb grudgingly
into the car
to resume domesticity once more.
His heart accompanies you,
but his wild free spirit
he has left behind,
as have you,
on those beloved wild shores,
to be picked up again
on your return.

When you live with a wolf,
you live with a very large presence.
This makes his eventual absence
somewhat difficult to bear.
But  those years
as twin souls,
that called forth your
deep wilderness nature,
taught you joy
as no one and nothing else
ever could.

For them,
you would not have
traded anything.
For them,
you can bear the pain.
For them-
for him -
you will,
eternally and forever,
give thanks.

Kids, I have just finished reading The Philosopher and the Wolf, by Mark Rowlands, recommended to me by Mary. It stirred up a lot around missing Pup, but also explained why that particular bond runs so deep. Wolves are highly intelligent, and have very evolved personalities. Pup and I had a somewhat psychic link - he could read either my mind or my energy. All I had to do was think about going for a walk, to have him leap up, excitedly barking and herding me to the door.

Pup suffered the loss of the wild when I was forced to leave Tofino. He grieved it, as did I, in the years following. He suffered the restrictions of living in town to be with me. For both of our sakes, I had to get us to a wild place every afternoon, until his legs gave out on him, in his last year.

It was bittersweet to read about Mark's life with his wolf, Brenin. Mark says it is not what we have, but who we are during our highest, and our lowest, moments, that defines us. Some of my highest moments were lived in Tofino, with a big black wolf at my side.