I Met a Wolf!

I really did! I met a real live wolf! It all began when my persons got an invitation to come to the Peabody Museum in New Haven, to attend a lecture of wolves in society. Now I had never met a wolf creature and all I knew about them was that they looked something like a big dog. Naturally I turned paw springs to get them to take me with them! "Okay, Henri," said my he person, "you can come along in an areoplane carry on bag. You must be very quiet, however. No hissing, no meowing, no growling."

"No problem!" I meowed. "I will be as quiet as a tiny little mouse!" I assured them. So I got packed up in the carry on bag and taken along for the ride which I might add, was not all that comfortable....

When we arrived at the museum, the she person insisted on shopping at the museum's store and came out with all kinds of paper bags filled with stuff. I was really very impatient and was getting very hot in the carry on bag but soon we were standing in line with other humans (I could smell that there were quite a few) and then we were allowed into the auditorium. Finally, after some more waiting, a female human came out with this big dog attached to a lead. They went up onto the stage. That big dog was none other than Atka the wolf! Well, let me tell you kitties, he wasn't anything to look at! He looked just like a big dog who had never been groomed! His hair was all matted and going every which way! A he human gave a little talk on the way wolves behave. They don't take orders from anyone. They really don't like human beings at all. They will tolerate them if it means they will get a meal. The lecture went on for awhile and then they walked the wolf down the aisle. I got a pretty good look at him and decided that when they had gone back to the stage, I would try to talk to the wolf if I could pry myself out of the carry on bag.

A lot of the humans were very interested in talking to the wolf but no one was allowed to pet him. Finally, when the coast was clear, I managed to unzip and crawl out of the bag. I stayed close to the ground until I was in front of the stage and Atka, the wolf! "Hi, Atka," I meowed, "I'm Henri of Twin Brook."

The wolf glared at me. "So?" he growled, causing my tail to puff up and my back to arch. "What are you anyway? A racoon or something?"

"No!" I hissed. "I am a cat. I have a website and I thought I might interview you and spread the meow about wolves and how they live."

"OH, no! You think that every wolf is the same and that we all have the same ambitions and dreams! Right, Pussycat? I bet that's what you think, huh?"

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to smile. "As a matter of fact, Atka, I never really thought about it...I just assumed you were a happy wolf living in relative safety and surrounded by the beauty of nature."

"Pussycat, you've got it all wrong! In the first place, my name isn't Atka...."

I pointed my paw at the leaflet I had been carrying in my teeth. "It says your name is Atka, right here in this brochure," I protested.

The wolf snorted and growled. "That's what these dumb persons call me. My name is Lester. That's the name my mother gave me. I will always be known as Lester by my friends and kin."

"Why of course you will, Lester," I agreed purringly. "And may I ask what your mother's name is?"

"Her name is Alice," he replied gruffly. "And for the record, you can keep that beauty of nature crap. Give me a nice warm house with a comfortable sofa so I can watch my favorite team play football." He paused for a while, looked around at the humans who were leaving the auditorium. "If you're going to write something about me, you might mention that I would love to have a shower with one of those pulsating water spouts. My friend Baxter says they are really invigorating after a long day of pretending to be a wild, ferocious animal...."

I jotted that down on the small pad I had been carrying. "No problem..." I meowed. "Anything else?"

Lester grinned wolfishly. "Would you like to take my picture? I photograph better from the left side. Or I could look up at the ceiling and look angelic or something. Or I could frown and look really dangerous."

A cat does not argue with a wolf who wishes to have his picture taken. I took Lester's picture and here it is!

Say "HELLO" to Lester!

"Bye the way, Pussycat. I am an artic wolf. An artic wolf is a subspecies of the gray wolf family. Be sure to mention that, willya?" He patted me on the top of the head with one of his big paws and walked casually toward the exit. "Silly female person really thinks she is in control....." He winked and gave a slight pull on the lead.

The End Return to Henri's homepage.