I saw the wolf again today. It had been a while since he last came sniffing around the garden. He had changed a little. His marks were a little more faded, the silver at his throat a little wider, but it was him; I couldn’t forget those eyes. What is it about wolves that intrigue us? The danger? The wild abandon?
I had let this one get close months ago. Mesmerized by the sounds he made, the feelings he stirred in me. I found myself sneaking out at night just to get a glimpse of him. The erotic dance of circling one another, almost touching then backing away. Oh, he was a tease, this wolf. In the past his howl would bring me running, drawing me like a magnet. Always letting me get just so close before backing away, yet never taking his eyes away from mine. Never touching yet never letting me go.
He howls once more; my breath catches in my throat, my heart races, and then...
My Mastiff stands in the doorway waiting for me... I smile... my heart melts. My sweet boy.
He comes and puts one paw on my arm. I know what he wants. Leaning down across his back, I wrap my arms around him, resting my cheek on his back while I rub his belly and say…
“Who’s mommy’s good boy?”
He loves me unconditionally. He protects me. He understands me. He is strong...solid...beautiful.
The Wolf is beautiful too, but elusive. He is like vapor that dissipates in the morning sun, and he cannot be trusted.