by Sandi Ault
But despite my having learned such an important lesson from the Old One, it was my friend Bennie who brought the most change into my life that Easter Sunday. In the afternoon, I traveled to the Wildlife Center in Española, where Bennie and a wildlife ranger had arranged for me to temporarily adopt a wolf cub in dire need of saving. The cub’s mother had been shot by a rancher outside of Yellow-stone, and after several unsuccessful attempts to get another pack to adopt the pup, the little one had been taken in, starving, by the rehab center. Hopes for an unmothered cub were not high. Since I was on leave for a month and could be with the babe constantly, I was a temporary stopgap until they could find a sanctuary that would take the wolf in.
“Come on, kiddo,” Bennie said. “I’ll show you how to bottle-feed this guy, so that you two will bond.” She gave me instructions and left me sitting cross-legged on the floor, alone in a room with my new companion.
A whimpering ball of yellow and brown fur with short legs and a distended belly soon waddled up and took a seat out of my reach. His eyes were yellow gold, and his face was marked with a distinct brown and black mask and tufted ears-one of which failed to stand up. He couldn’t have been much over six weeks old. He studied me warily, drool dripping from his lips, the hunger making him bold. He edged toward me. I didn’t move. Finally, unable to control his desire to feed, he came forward and took the nipple extending from the bottle I held in my hand. He rolled onto his side, pushing gently at my leg with his paws, a look of ecstasy on his little wolf face. I looked down at my new living companion, careful not to threaten him with too direct a stare. Two yellow eyes looked back at me-wild eyes, a kindred spirit. He looked up at me like an infant does his mother-with adoration.
A half hour later, Bennie came into the room as I nuzzled the little ball of fur tucked sleeping in my arms like a baby, where I held him after he’d had his fill. “He’s so cute,” I said.
“Yeah, he’s cute now, kiddo,” Bennie said, “but he’ll weigh around a hundred, maybe as much as a hundred thirty pounds when he’s grown, and he won’t look cute to anyone then. Right now, you are our answer to whether he lives or dies, but it gets harder every day he grows toward maturity to find him a permanent place that will take him in. A lone wolf is not sought after, and I don’t want him to have to go to a zoo. We’ll just have to keep trying. In the meantime, you two look like you’re developing a good bond. What do you want to call him?”
“Mountain,” I said. “I’ll call him Mountain.”
Later, I drove home with the little ball of fur tucked inside a sling next to me so that he could feel my warmth as he snoozed in his little cocoon. I made up a silly little song and sang it as I drove, a soothing little lullaby for my new companion, and for me:
Stars shine on us,
Wind sings to us,
Moon smiles on us,
You and me.
No more lonely,
We are family.
About the Author
Sandi Ault celebrates her love for the wild west in this series. She loves to write, to explore, to adventure, to research, and to discover. She spends her free time hiking mountains, deserts, and canyons, searching out new sources of wonder and amazement, new places of magic and enchantment. She is at home in wild places, in the ruins of the ancient ones, in the canyons, on the rivers, on cliff ledges and high mesas. She loves to visit her friends and adopted family at the pueblos. She lives in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado with loving companions: a husband, a wolf, and a cat. Visit her on the Web at: www.SandiAult.com.
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