Becky and wolf
A ferocious Mexican wolf, before dying, entrusts his orphan to Becky, his human friend. Maybe it knew in its heart that the little wolf would be safe with Becky, just like it was back then.
The eldest daughter had gone to school, leaving the youngest daughter, Becky, 3, alone on the farm, desperate for a companion. We had promised her that we would buy a puppy to be her pet in a few days. So Becky began telling me daily stories about her and her imaginary puppy.
One day, I was washing the dishes when the door slammed, and Becky rushed in excitedly. “Mom!” she yelled, “Come and see the puppy I found! I have fed it twice, it must be thirsty!” I smiled helplessly, and it was a child again. In my imagination, this time she might let the Trojan horse in the garden act as her dog again. “Please take a look, Mom.” Becky pulled my trouser legs, her eyes were full of eagerness, “It’s still crying, and it can’t walk, how pitiful!” Looking at the poor little daughter I had no choice but to put down what I was doing and said, “Okay, honey, take Mommy to see your dog.” As soon as the words fell, Becky ran out the door and disappeared into the bushes before I could catch up. inside. “Where are you?” I called her loudly. “Here at the root of the oak tree. Come on, mother.” I parted the prickly branches, raised one hand to shade the glare, and looked at Becky. But when I saw the scene in front of me, I felt like falling into an ice cave.
Becky was squatting on the ground, and what she held in her arms turned out to be an out-and-out wolf! The rest of the wolf’s body was completely hidden in the grass behind the fallen oak tree.
”Becky…” My lips became extremely dry, and I tried to control my trembling voice and said, “Don’t move, my child.” As I said, I slowly walked a few steps closer. The dark gray wolf narrowed its buff eyes, and its black lips were drawn tightly, revealing two pairs of long fangs. Apparently, it was hostile to me. I was also terrified, and every bone in my body was shaking. You know, it only takes 5 minutes for this beast to kill our mother and daughter with ease!
Suddenly the wolf’s body trembled. Its teeth chattered and it whimpered in pain. “It’s okay, little guy.” Becky put one arm around the wolf’s head, and gently stroked the bridge of its nose with the other hand, whispering, “Don’t be afraid. This is my mother, and she loves you too.” 3 seconds Finally, something incredible happened—when Becky’s little hand was stroking the huge and rough wolf’s head, I heard a gentle “bang, bang” sound coming from the withered oak trunk—it was wagging its tail!
Why is the wolf standing still? I have no way of knowing, and I dare not get any closer. Glancing at the empty water bowl, I suddenly remembered that animals drink a lot of water in the final stages of rabies. Rabies warning signs are everywhere on Yasak’s farm. And, did Becky mean “it’s thirsty”? Things are getting dangerous and I have to get my daughter out!
”Honey,” I said softly, with a tight throat, “put it down and come to Mommy. Let’s get someone to help save your puppy, shall we?” Becky stood reluctantly. I got up, kissed the wolf’s nose, and walked slowly towards my open arms. The wolf looked at her with sad yellow eyes, then lay motionless on the ground.
Seeing that the wolf didn’t intend to pounce, I hugged Becky and slowly exited the bushes. When I felt basically safe, I quickly ran to the barn and found Brian, a temporary helper on the farm, “Brian, hurry up! Becky found a wolf at the root of the oak tree. I think that guy has rabies.” When Brian heard this, he turned and ran towards the room, shouting, “I’ll be right there!” I hurried Becky back to the house and coaxed her to take a nap. I didn’t want her to see Brian come out of the shed because I knew he’d have a double-barreled shotgun in his hand.
”Let Mommy and Uncle Brian take care of your dog from now on, okay?” I said to Becky. She nodded innocently and closed her eyes. After the kids were settled, I was quickly near the roots of the oak tree, where Brian was looking at the animals on the ground. “Yes, it’s a Mexican gray wolf,” Brian said to me. “This guy is not small! He doesn’t have rabies, but he is seriously injured. I think it’s better to end his suffering sooner.” .” As he spoke, he raised his shotgun and aimed at the wolf’s head.
Just then, Becky suddenly appeared from the bushes. “Uncle Brian, do you want to treat it?” As she spoke, she held the gray wolf’s head in her arms again, and her small face was deeply buried in its dense dark gray fur. This time, I was not the only one who heard the “bang, bang” sound of the wolf’s tail beating the tree trunk.
That afternoon, my husband, Bill, called the farm veterinarian. After the anesthetic the veterinarian administered to the wolf took effect, they lifted it out of the grass together. The guy was at least 1.5 meters long, weighed 50 kilograms, and had bullet wounds in his hind legs. Veterinarians cleaned the wound, injected him with penicillin and put a splint on the broken bone.
After finishing these, the veterinarian Peake said jokingly: “I have worked as a veterinarian on this farm for 20 years, and this is the first time someone asks me to treat a wolf. Well, it seems that you plan to keep it as a pet?” Looking at Bill, they both shrugged helplessly. Only Becky cheered and clapped her hands. Pick said: “This guy is about 3 years old. Even if raised from a young age, the Mexican gray wolf is a kind of beast that is extremely difficult to tame. They are devils without any feelings at all. But I am surprised that it treats your little daughter So trusting. But what happens between children and animals, we adults can’t understand.”
Becky named the gray wolf Ralph.
Becky brought Ralph water and food every day until he recovered. After the gray wolf regained its vitality, it followed Becky and wandered in the pasture. If you came to my manor at that time, you would often see a little blond girl leaning over and whispering to the docile wolf. And when night falls, Ralph will return to rest near the roots of the oak tree as silently as a shadow. Although it was a wolf, Ralph had never hurt any domestic animal on the farm, let alone attacked anyone. This reassures me and Bill. Over time, it seems to have become a member of our family.
But every year when mating season came, Ralph would disappear into the surrounding mountains and not return for weeks at a time, which worried us very much. Because this is also the season when cows give birth, other farms are very vigilant against jaguars and wild wolves, and will never show mercy once found. But Ralph had always been lucky. Ralph had kept his distance from Bill and me during the twelve years he had been on the ranch, but his affection for Becky had never changed. Just like a pair of partners who have played since childhood, the trust between each other is already indestructible.
However, in the spring of the twelfth year, something happened to Ralph. That morning, I heard from my neighbor that he killed a female wolf and injured the male wolf who was with her. I heard it, and faintly felt something was wrong. Sure enough, when Ralph returned to the ranch, he had a bullet wound on his waist, and the blood flowed all the way to his hind legs, forming scabs.
Becky, who was 15 years old, sat on the ground holding Ralph’s head and wept bitterly. At this time Ralph was also 15 years old, and his fur had turned gray. Becky was a beautiful girl at fifteen, but Ralph was in his twilight years. This time, it failed to recover. It lay motionless all day, but at night it struggled and disappeared into the bushes. The next morning we found its limp carcass among the roots of the oak tree. Becky stroked its neck and said with tears, “I’ll miss him.”
Suddenly, there was a strange rustling sound in the trunk of the oak tree, a pair of small yellow eyes were looking out, and the black hole in the tree hole was looking out. In the shadow, the two rows of teeth gleamed white. It’s Ralph’s cub! If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I couldn’t believe this fact: a ferocious Mexican wolf, before dying, entrusted his orphan to Becky, his human friend. Maybe it knew in its heart that the little wolf would be safe with Becky, just like it was back then.
Becky took the trembling wolf cub into her arms, whimpered and said, “Don’t be afraid, this is my mother, and she loves you too.” This time, I also knelt down, with tears in my eyes, but smiled and said: “Yes, I love you too.”