Wilderness Born. Artist Owned.
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Stories

The Story of The Wolf and His Boy

 



Buzz. My phone vibrates in my pocket, something I don’t always feel but do right now because it’s a more important message.

“Look what Roger found”, a text from my mom along with a picture of a puppy. Not just any puppy, but of a husky, which is strange because yesterday I told a friend if I ever got a dog, it would be a husky. That once fleeting thought is at the forefront of my mind as I respond, “He’s really cute. What do you mean my stepdad found him?”

“Roger was out at the lake and found the puppy in the gravel parking area at the marina. It had been raining and no one else was there, like he was dropped off. He had no collar or tags and took him to the vet to look for a microchip, and there isn’t one.”

Without even knowing what this meant, I replied, “I might want him.”

I sit in the chair and I stare at the picture of the husky pup. His ears are bigger than his face, and icy blue eyes wrapped in black eyeliner. Droopy, and aloof, and heart meltingly cute. I begin daydreaming about a name, about what I would call him, about what it would mean to take him in. I know I struggle with commitment, and I’d be signing up until one of us dies because I can’t bear the weight of bailing on him. Am I ready for this?

I imagine yelling as loud as I can a name that is easier to yell. I imagine the pup will run off and free and away from me and I will have to yell at the top of my lungs to call him back to me. I don’t want something difficult to yell like Flinnigan or Nathanial, or a generic dog name like Milo, or Fluffy. I want a human name, something like Vincent or Ben.

I wonder if I can teach him a trick, like to high five? I havn’t even said yes to taking him in and I’m already daydreaming about how he’d change my life. If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is. I text mom again,“I think I’m serious, I think I really might want him.”

And right out of thin air, a name drops into my mind and resonates with the look in his eyes. I think his name is Levi. Yeah, Levi.

Over the next few days, I think this through while my mom and stepdad are back home looking to see if anyone claims him. My roommate over this last year has a husky named Lucy, so I’ve already fallen in love with the breed and looked online for expensive husky puppies. Now one has fallen into our lives, will I regret this if I miss the opportunity?

I make plans to meet my mom and stepdad to pick him up this weekend. One of my cousins I grew up with lives halfway in between us. I am so happy and eager to meet him, and  give him a home for the rest of his life. I go to the pet store to pick out a dog tag and have his name engraved before I get on the road for a three hour drive.

We meet at my cousin Jessica’s house, and hang out for awhile and say goodbye. I want to get home with enough of the evening left to try and help Levi settle in as much as he can before bed. Mom sends us off with a soft, old pink blanket to help make the car ride more comfortable for him. I’m a few minutes into the drive, maybe a mile in, when lil boi starts crying.

I recognize this week was traumatic for him. It seems like the people he’d known his whole life up til now dropped him off out at the parking lot of the boat marina at the lake. He was ripped away from everything he’s known at fourteen weeks old, and now he’s in a car with a random guy he’s known for 3 hours. I know he’s scared. I know he doesn’t know me, and I’m taking him away from the people that rescued him this last week. He has no reason to trust me, and hope I don’t give him a reason not to. I pull over in a parking lot and talk to the whimpering, abandoned boy.

“Hey buddy, you’re okay. I know, I know, I see you. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you. I know you’re confused and you have no idea what’s happening. You don’t know where you are, or where your family is or who I am. But I’m not going to leave you bud. I’m sorry you were left out there. I promise you, it’s never going to happen ever again. I promise you, I’ll never leave you. I’ll always come back for you okay? I’ll always come back for you.”

I pet him, and nestle my head against his, trying to calm him and give him some grounding. Something we’ll always do for each other from here on out. I give him a few treats as he lays down in the passenger seat and doesn’t eat them. I drive differently now, with a living animal in the front seat, I gently shift the car into first gear and start driving again. Before I get out of the neighborhood, I burst into tears.

My heart swells with my own abandoning and the boy inside heard my own words. My blurry eyes hindered how I saw life, and wept out a feeling. I know what it’s like to be left. I know that sudden dismantling of foundations. The rug being pulled from beneath your feet. I identify with the pup, sitting in the front seat resembling a vulnerable wolf, he echoes what happened when I was young. Levi and I bond in that orphan place in such a special way that upholding my promise is effortless.

 
Wesley Ayers