BARK

You kept away from their fires, but I was drawn to heat and the smell of food.  I loitered, whining and slavering.  When the man threw me meat I took it, but you wouldn’t touch it.  I returned to the man’s camp the next day and the next, while you hunted alone.

Curiosity drove me closer; I took meat from the man’s hand and let him touch my head.  I couldn’t look him in the eye, there was something horrible there, but his hands were gentle and his voice soothing.  He offered me a warm place to sleep.  There would be no need for hunting, I could guard his camp and pull his sledge with his dogs.  I knew what you thought, but while I’ve always been as strong and fast as you, I’m not as thick skinned.  I couldn’t bear the cold or the long days without food.

The warm place to sleep was a cage, but it came with a fur blanket, fresh meat and a place near the fire.  At night I patrolled the edge of the camp, sometimes you came to see me, but I was not permitted to run through the forest with you.  I took my duty to protect the camp seriously.  At times, I’d hear you howl and I’d answer, but the man did not like this.  It made the dogs restless.  I should learn their language, he said and moved me into a cage with them.  I thought that once I learned to bark well, I would be allowed back into the cage I didn’t have to share, the one with the fur rug.

The sledge was heavy and the journeys long.  When I was on the diet of fresh meat it hadn’t mattered, but now I was in with the dogs, I was offered processed food from a container.  One night I was tired and fell asleep instead of patrolling the camp.  I woke to something sharp connecting with my ribs and the man yelled, his voice no longer soothing.

I patrolled slowly, hearing your faraway howl, but I didn’t answer for fear of angering the man.  The cage I lived in had been moved away from the fire and the dogs were shivering.  I crawled in with them for the limited sleep I would get before the day’s work.  I remembered those rare nights when you and I pointed noses to sky and rejoiced at the end of a successful day’s hunting.  I would not be strong enough to hunt now, the diet of tinned meat was not nutritious, my fur was dull and I was slower.  I hoped your thick skin still protected you from the cold that was in my bones.  I glanced across at the cage with the fur rug that used to be mine, there was something in it - the man was feeding fresh meat to another wolf and talking to it soothingly.

I looked at the bright stars above and thought of running those forest paths by your side, the scent of prey and the freedom and adventure ahead of us.  Here every day was the same and I suddenly knew that if you didn’t hear from me soon, you’d return to your old pack and I’d be trapped here forever.  I pointed my nose upwards to howl to you to come and get me, but all that came out was a bark that you would not recognise.