Inspiration

By Charles Towne




“Mr. Towne, how would you like to have a wolf?”



And thus it began.



Egore was his name. 

Somebody had purchased him in British Colombia, Canada.

 

The seller had killed the tiny wolf pup’s mother, sparing the pup with the idea of selling him to some gullible bleeding heart in the states.



Egore grew up in captivity, and over the next three years, he traveled from B.C. Canada to Montana, and then to Michigan; shuffled back and forth until he came into my temporary care.



Egore, 120 lbs. of energetic wolf molecules wrapped in a lovely gray fur coat would make an interesting addition to my menagerie of wildlings, primarily made up of my half-wild familial brood comprised of my little girl Faithy, and three males, Chuck Jr., Theodore, and Russy. 
 


From the time of his capture, he had never known what it was to run wild and free as he was meant to be.

Confined by a heavy chain his life was anything but that which he was intended to be.



Somewhat intimidating to the uninitiated, there was no mistaking his ancestry.



I will never forget the evening the lady came to the house trying to sell me some life insurance. 

My family and I were all seated around the kitchen table listening to the lady’s sales spiel. I had told her upfront that she was wasting her time, after all, what did I need life insurance for?

 She droned on, and on, and on in an effort to reduce us into walking zombies, or a comatose state, whichever came first.



She knew that I couldn’t hold out much longer.  

She was about to hand me her pen when, as if on cue Egore enters, stage right.

 Quiet as a ghost he padded across the room, and stood at the lady’s side with his chin resting on the table, staring into her eyes.



She glanced at him, reached out and patted him on the head; and said, “Nice doggy.” and turned back to me. Then she became very still as she turned back to Egore, and in a very still voice exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, it isn’t a dog is it?

”

Without any expression, I said, “Nope, wolf.”

We were all somewhat surprised by how quickly the insurance lady vanished, and no; Egore didn’t eat her.


There were those times when he would stand and stare into the distance, into infinity; or so it seemed.  I wondered what he was sensing at those times?

 Could something have been pulling him, drawing him back to the wild where he belonged?



At such times as this, he would vocalize. 



Why does a wolf howl?  Does he, out of the foggy mists of past generations of his kind feel a summons back to the wild?


We were closing in on a home for Egore.  There was a captive breeding program in a western state that was very interested in our male. 



They told me that they were in the process of finishing a compound comprised of several hundred acres where a semi-wild wolf pack would be allowed to run in comparative freedom, and they wanted to pick him up in the next two weeks.



Wild animals are just that, wild animals.  Be it a badger, or a bear; it is a wild animal.  All of its being is wild, and it belongs in the wild.

 People that have the idea that a wild animal will make a wonderful pet are deluded, and sooner or later, either the human or the animal pays the price.

 The glamour of owning, possessing, a wild animal is not so glamorous when that which was once a vibrant, and beautiful creature is lying dead with a bullet in its brain.


When the children were playing Egore would lay and watch them, until that day when one of my sons ran past him. 

It could have been bad, very bad.
  Only by the grace and intervention of a merciful God did it end up the way it did.

One moment the boy was running, the next he was laying on his back with Egore on top of him; those powerful jaws clamped on my son’s throat.



I shouted, “No Egore, No!”



The wolf shifted his eyes to mine, and I could see the wildfire in those gold green orbs. He stared at me for a moment longer, and then that fire dimmed and vanished. 



He stood, sniffed at my son, nuzzled him playfully, walked a short distance away and sat down, watching me all the while, after all, I was the Alpha animal in his pack.



I retrieved my son who was not injured in any way other than a bit of wolf drool. 



From my understanding Egore lived out his life out west in the confines of that large compound with others of his kind, but wouldn’t it have been better if he had been allowed to roam free where he was intended?



Dear Papa God, we thank you for watching over us and preserving us.  If we could see the times that you have intervened and by your doing so we have lived somewhat long, if not normal lives.  Praise you Father, and thank you for your magnificent love, Amen


Charles Towne is first and foremost a Christian. An octogenarian, author, journalist, wildlife photographer, naturalist, caregiver, and survivor, his life has been and continues to be, a never-ending adventure filled with possibilities never imagined. He has adopted the philosophy that to Live fully, laugh uproariously, love passionately, and learn like there is no tomorrow, is a formula for a long and joy-filled life.

13 COMMENTS

  1. Thank you for raising awareness of why wild critters need to live free……
    I’m still a little jealous, though. Lol. What a fabulous tale!!

  2. Dear NH, I thank Papa God for enabling me to live a very interesting life. Having spent those years as a zoo director I was enabled to see the good and the bad about zoos. All of God’s creation should be able to live as He intended, wild and free, as He meant for them to be. Remember, our greatest adventure is ahead of us, “the best is yet to be!” Bless you dear friend, Chaz

  3. Yes, wildlings are meant to live in the wild. The crow might be an exception if rescued when very young after falling from a nest. I had a wonderful pet crow that was carried to the house in the mouth of a chow dog when it was fledgling, its eyes hadn’t yet opened. The dog stood holding it gently before placing it on the ground unharmed. That crow became imprinted on humans, thought it was a human. It matured, flew freely in and out of the house, and even joined a group of crows. Whenever I called, “Crow! Come Crow!” it would fly to me and land on my outstretched wrist. When I weeded the garden, it hopped nearby checking out discarded weed roots for worms, and it loved bathing in a tub of water placed in the grass. But . . . Crow’s survival instincts had been compromised – instead of roosting in a densely leafed tree, he chose the railing of the upper deck outside my bedroom window. One night I heard him squawk, and the next morning, Crow didn’t fly to my wrist when called – he had fallen prey to an owl. Crow had lost his survival instincts.

  4. Oh yes, a wonderful bird is the crow! Belonging to the family of corvids which is made up of quite a large group containing ravens, magpies and rooks to name just a few, crows are tricksters from the get go! Back when I was a boy I raised several crows the most notorious of which was Joe Crow. This was back before electric dryers. Mama would be out hanging up the freshly washed clothes and Joe would be following her, pulling out the clothes pins and dropping the clothes to the ground. I would have to rescue him from mama’s wrath. Blessings to you and yours. Chaz

  5. The corvids are a broad family of birds containing ravens, magpies, rooks and jackdaws, and they are all tricksters. One of my crows, Joe was his name, loved to follow my mother as she hung up the wash. He would pull the clothes pins dropping the clean clothes to the ground. This did not endear him to my mother. Blessings to you and yours, Chaz

  6. Animals Charles. Just Animals … There’s just like Us : Created from PaPaGOD !!! But we need to be careful, ’cause like humans animals got its own character … But Egore spent some familiar time … Such a Blessing time and scary too … Fortunaly nothing happened …
    Charles, but we need to thank GOD for our Brotherhood. Our friendship. Even not tied for a Huge Chain … He He … We’re tied because of GOD’s Love … Amen

  7. Leo, my friend, thanks for the wise words. Friendship is a great gift from a wise and loving god. Bless you my friend and my brother, Chaz

  8. WOW!! Such an amazing story!
    It is wonderful to walk through a well-kept zoo, looking at all the animals that we would probably
    never see otherwise. Afterall, the
    animals are cared for, fed and out of danger. But if you just switch places with them for a moment,
    I’m sure you could feel the yearning deep down inside that God created in them….that sense of yearning to be free and truly wild again. They just want to be what God designed them to be.
    Maybe we could learn something from them in that regard. God’s purpose and plan is always best.
    God bless you, Chuck!

  9. My friend, I think you got appointed to care for all the critters Sam Campbell didn’t get around to! Bears and wolves and Big Cats! I think it was good that the episode with Egore and your son happened when he was young your decision might have been more difficult if the boy was a teenager!!! It seems to me that Papa God’s intentions are always way better than ours, wild things should be allowed to be what they are, it is always the arrogance of man that thinks he can improve on God’s plans! Keep the lessons coming Chuck, you are a gifted teacher/writer!

  10. Another amazing animal story. So many of these types of stories are works of fiction and it is very refreshing to read your account of reality. It breaks my heart to see all of the wild animals displaced by yet another housing development while vacant home sit to rot in once flourishing communities. During a recent trip to Ohio I was disappointed to see a once vibrant town of less than 1000 people decaying while mega homes are being built in the surrounding woodlands.

  11. Richard, again it was one of those times that just goes to prove that the Good Lord definitely takes care of His own! Bless you pal, Chaz

  12. Mike, I have definitely lived a life that has been full of adventure which also proves that truth is usually stranger than fiction! Chaz

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