About Paddy and the Wolf
Written by Jennifer Joyce
29 pages / 14500 words
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When he gets reports of a wolf invading popular public areas of his park, Ranger Paddy heads out to track the animal down. When he finds the wolf he finds far more than an animal, leaving him confused and intrigued.
Soon he discovers that his wolf is capable of speech, of learning, and maybe capable of a lot more. The wolf might just be able to teach Paddy something about love. Has Paddy snared just the kind of man he needs?
Sample
I don't remember my father. Not even his scent lingers in my earliest memories. There was just my mother, my litter mates and me. I remember the world being fuzzy as we jostled to drink. I was her favorite. Well, that's what I like to think. Her fur was so warm to burrow into. Her scent was protection. Love.
I can understand now the hunger that drove her away to hunt, leaving us defenseless. Wolves aren't meant to give birth alone. There should have been a pack there to defend us when we were helpless pups, other hunters to help bring back food. All we understood then was that we were cold and hungry. That she was missing. But she always returned and most of us survived.
There was never enough food for all and the weakest of us, a brother, never got enough. One morning he didn't wake up. I remember how cold and stiff he felt when I nosed him. Our mother took him away when she went hunting. It meant there was a little more food for the rest of us.
When we got bigger we fought and played while she was gone. Growling and tumbling in the patchy sunlight. Falling asleep in a tangled pile. When she returned we whined and licked her muzzle, snapping at each other over a share of the regurgitated meat from her hunt.
Another one of our litter mates died then, a bitch pup, nearly as strong as me. She was brave and curious and foolhardy. The branch she had climbed onto snapped, dropping her into the water. Her little howls brought our mother running but she was swept away down the river and I never saw her again.
With only two of us left, my brother and I, our mother started teaching us to hunt, taking us with her each long day. We didn't catch much at first and those were hungry days as our mother refused to share her small kills with us. Our noisy presence was scaring away even our mother's prey.
I remember the first rabbit I caught myself. It might have been young, scrawny, and stupid but it was the best meal I'd ever had and the best thing I'd ever done. Even now I can recall the hot taste of fresh blood and the rich food hidden inside its soft belly. My brother whined and groveled at me, begging for a share, but I snapped at him and growled until he backed off. It was my food. Mine!
Once we could hunt on our own our mother drove us away, growling and biting when we got too near. We whined and rolled onto our backs, trying to win back her favor, but that only earned bites that hurt. Confused and angry, I went off by myself, running until the trees and smells were unfamiliar.
I wandered for part of a season. Hunting and moving.
Then came the night when I woke up cold, my skin naked. My paws and legs were the wrong shape and the world smelled flat. Whining, I tried to lie my ears back, confused when they didn't move. I tried to walk, to run away, but I fell over and the ground dug painfully into my unnaturally soft skin. I lay there panting with fear for a while. Tried to raise a call of danger, but my voice sounded wrong and my muzzle felt strange. I wished desperately for everything to be normal.
A wrenching feeling. A tearing shifting pain. I curled up with a whimper, my tail curled between my hind legs. My tail! I had a tail again. I stood up and scampered, just to be sure that all my parts were their proper shapes again. My howl of celebration sounded right and the forest smelled full of life again.
I eventually learned how to change to that strange hairless form and back again with a thought but I couldn't find anything it was good for. At least, not until...