A Letter to Wolves

This is Girl speaking. The following an extract of something I wrote during fall, 2023. It was never a serious project. I just imagined what it would be like if my dog wrote a letter to wolves. I am no longer satisfied with how I ended it. There is not much more to say about it.

"Dear wolves, 

I am descendant of wolves. My great, great, great grandparents spent their entire lives in the woods, until one day Uncle Pau got hurt badly and had to seek shelter. In his desperation of survival, he met one of another species, kinder than the long-tailed prankster who lived in the trees. The strange creature pointed at himself and said: “Aman.” A man, Uncle Pau thought. A man washed Uncle Pau’s bruises and kept him warm. It seemed like A man had limitless food, because Uncle Pau kept being fed fresh meat, without ever having to put in any work for it. This must be paradise, Uncle Paul thought, reminded of the tales he was told as a pup, about a world free from suffering. He was eager to go back to his pack and let them know that their hopes and dreams did not exist without truth. That their grandmother´s sacrifices was not for nothing, but their daughters will not be taught to suffer the same fate. 

                                                                                  

He brought the message, expecting celebration, so he was certainly caught by surprise when it caused an uproar. The elders yelled this is not our way, and the youngsters stepped by their side, to hold the power of their fragile souls. Father Orú was brought to the front, and he looked at Uncle Pau as if he had been poisoned by A man´s touch. 

“You look defeated. Soon enough, your master will carry you on his shoulder as decoration!” he exclaimed, bringing the majority of the pack to howl in laughter. 

Uncle Pau pulled away, embarrassed and full of shame. He did not know how to defend A man who had saved his life. He turned his back on the pack, never looking back, not even when he could hear the steps of misfits following him. And as they were walking, the leaves whispered the last words, that would ever be heard from Father Orú: “Your people will become nothing but servants to their greed.” 

A man´s tribe and Uncle Pau´s underdogs started living alongside each other. The first years were equally rich of sun and rain. Every night, A man and his friends would indulge in feasts and spill red liquid all over their bodies. Uncle Pau and the rest were taught to do a few simple tasks on command, and complied happily, if it meant getting grand rewards in return. Besides, it was a familiar occurrence. In the woods, Father Orú would assign roles so that each one could contribute to the community. We have not lost our way, the youngest of them stated. Then they kept on living carefreely, not even acknowledging the howling at night. 

But then the drought came. Desperation grew. A dark mist approached, infusing minds. A man said he would protect Uncle Pau, but that he could not control how it would end for the rest of his friends. That only the gods could rule over such things, and Uncle Pau found this statement ridiculous and deeply unfair. Uncle Pau had to watch as the ones who had once followed him, was forced into labor, until they were out. He saw the fear in their eyes. The whimpering as the heat beat them down. Their fur was colored in blood, and there was no longer anyone willing to heal the wounds. Not even wash them clean. A man could carry each one like they were still a pup, but their face revealed the horror of having lived for far too long. One night, the youngest of them, came into Uncle Pau´s hut and cried because she had forgotten how to howl. No gods could possibly put such suffering into the world. Only the cruel acts of those who live there could."