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Susan Rochester's avatar

I’ve encountered wolves twice, a few days apart. The first I spied as he loped across the road in northern British Columbia. I pulled over and strained my eyes, searching the low brush for him, but he’d vanished like a wisp.

A couple days later, we set up camp by headlight in a blowing mix of snow and sleet. It was September, and we were the only folks in the campground. I have never been so cold. Burrowed into my sleeping bag, I finally warmed up and started to drift to sleep.

I felt the sound, deep below my sternum, before I heard it. And I was on my feet before I was fully awake, in full fight or flight mode. Another howl, joined by another and another and it was a full chorus. The wolves sounded close enough to touch, and the sound came through the woods in all directions.

I hunkered back down into my sleeping bag, feeling a little sheepish—we were probably safe, right? My friend, who barely awakened, mumbled assent.

I settled in to listen, every hackle on my neck standing on end as that sound flowed around us.

Then I heard a shuffling noise nearby. I held my breath and listened as inches away, something sniffed the tent. Now my friend was awake. We both sat bolt upright. “What the hell is that?” whispered frantically. “Shhhh!!! It will hear us!!!” whispered back.

The investigation of the tent continued for several moments. Finally, I couldn’t take it. “I’m going to chase it off,” I announced. I grabbed the tent zipper and yanked it open. A black mass of fur leaped in. We jumped up, screaming, grabbing for headlamps and shoes as we bolted from the tent.

Standing out in the snow, we looked around. The beast must be in the tent. We pulled back the flap and shined a light, picking up the reflection of eyes inside.

It was a cat. A little black cat who had been declawed. A very happy cat, snuggled into a sleeping bag. We figured she must have been separated from her family, traveling in a motor home, perhaps.

The next day when we rolled into the closest town, we bought cat food and a litter box. We took her to the Mounties and begged the bemused staff to find her a home. One uniformed officer promised he would, and held the cat in the crook of his arm as he waved us on our way.

I received a note a few weeks later, containing a snapshot of the Wolf Cat and her new human girl.

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Karen Davis's avatar

I love imagining a world where we could once again live side by side with beautiful wolves. I would love to hear them in the wild, the closest I come is listening to the coyotes and wolves that visit in my dreams. I have a friend who works at a lighthouse on Vancouver Island and he has sometimes posted pictures of wolves. Thank you for your weekly posts and beautiful art.

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