Alyssa
Munson
October
1, 2016: P1B Revised Essay
Professor
Bump
A
WolfÕs World
ÒEvery organism creates a different world
in its brain. It lives in that world. We are surrounded by millions of
different worlds.Ó [1]
I
awoke, in the same world that I had for the past five years. Beside me, in my
den, slept my family. They appeared peaceful, unbothered by the cool breeze
blowing their coats, although I knew their instincts would make them alert in
an instant if necessary. Always the first to rise, I carried my tail much
higher now because I had recently become the alpha wolf of our pack, after
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our
last leader fell ill and died at the age of nine. Our average life span is
around eight years, although some of us live to be thirteen years old. At only five years of age, I still have
nearly half of my life left to lead, guide, and protect my pack, should I not
fall ill, injured, or be hunted. I take great pride in my responsibility as the
head of the pack because my family means everything to me. Most of us stay with
our packs, as well as mate for life. These family groups are very close and our
social nature and emotional attachments to each other define our kind. I care
for my mate and pups on a much deeper level than I have ever seen amongst other
creatures in the forest. We think highly of ourselves, for our intelligence,
communication, and our social and emotional relationships separate us from many
others. A balance between aggression and cooperation is another characteristic
of our kind. Contrary to how most see us, we are not vicious, blood thirsty,
savages. We must eat, such is the way of the wild, and we will protect our own,
but we have an aversion to fighting and try to avoid aggressive encounters when
possible. Most are all agreeable and friendly with one another, such as seen
during our daily activities like grooming and play. Each wolf has their own
individual and unique personalities, but their behaviors may depend upon the
establishment of their social positon through these activities. I know not a
wolf brave enough to double cross me.
Thinking
of such a thought, a heard a rustle in the trees nearby and was jolted back to
present matters. Though it were nothing, my heightened senses which provided me
an immaculate awareness, was unacceptable to let waver. Scanning the
surroundings, I see that a fresh snow has fallen overnight, but the chill in
the air is hardly noticeable to me through my dense coat. My family is starting
to wake and I know that it is almost time for the hunt. Hunting is a collective
behavior for the pack, as is almost everything we do. We leave the den,
equipped
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with
our built in snow shoes and an instinctual way of walking, such as that we do
not sink into the fresh snow. Our claws are strong and blunt, not for seizing
prey, but to grip the Earth. ÒHow easy it is to sense that the terrain
underfoot is the palpable surface of a living presence, and to allow that depth
to feel your steps as you walk upon it!Ó[2]
I feel at one with the earth and with my pack. I use my most trusted tool, my
powerful sense of smell, to locate prey. Although we are no strangers to
covering long distances, and at high paces, it takes no time at all before I
have quickly picked up a scent and locked onto our prey. Following the very
intense scents is no problem, but I am further aided by my other senses. Second
to smell, is my hearing. Not only do I hear much higher frequencies than other
canine classifications do, but I can hear from six miles away in the forest. My
senses are being overloaded as I zone into my hunting mentality and let the
floods of overwhelming smells and every small sound I hear take over my brain.
If there were leaves left on the trees this time of year, I could hear them
rustling in the wind from miles away, I bet. But suddenly I hear a twig snap,
and I realize we are beginning to close in on the prey I had been stalking. My
yellow golden eyes are quick to detect the slightest of movements. We stay
undetected, moving slower than our heartbeats, until we are as close to the
deer as possible. At the last moment, we run full speed, making a high speed
chase to test the animals and pick out the weak ones from the group. I know not
how quickly we run, only that a creature has not outrun me yet. I feel
confident and strong and powerful as I sink my teeth into one of the deer. My
long, sharp, strong, canine teeth are used to grasp the prey, while my carnassials are used to scissor off pieces of meat that can
be swallowed without ever chewing my food. My strong teeth and jaws have a lot
of crushing power and allow me to get bone marrow from bones
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and
to leave very little waste. I appreciate the taste of the meat, so much more
satisfying than that of fruit, and soak in my meal.
As
night falls and we head back to our den, a horrific scene unfolds as we walk
right into human laid traps. We knew that the humans sometimes set up traps in
these parts of the forest, but how did they outsmart us? My clever
intelligence, upright ears, inquiring eyes, and sharp senses should have been
able to see this. A wave of feelings and nausea, thicker than the waves of the
swiftest moving rivers in the forest, washed over me as I watched my loved ones
being caught in more animalistic traps than any animal had ever known. Their
pleading eyes and whimpers and howls of pain made my stomach churn. The earth
seemed to turn on us, as traps she had been concealing became revealed and
snatched up member after member of my pack. The beast inside of me began to
come out, but it was soon clear that even at my most ferocious, I was no match
for these monsters. Hunters followed us as we fled and shot at some of the
younger members of the pack with something I had never seen before. It was so
loud. It pierced the air, sending any birds resting in the trees flying out in
all directions. My ears echoed the sound of its fire through my head for what
seemed like an eternity. I could hardly feel my legs, but I kept running. I
donÕt know how long I ran, but it was almost sun rise when I noticed I was
alone. I had led my pack into danger, been unable to save them, was a coward
and ran away. I lost my pack, the thing that mattered the most to me. I felt
lost without them. After a while, I started to notice some intriguingly unusual
smells in the air and found myself aimlessly following them, having no other
purpose anymore. I crouched and walked wearily near the edge of the tree line,
where a Native American tribe lived. I had never been here before, but they did
not feel threatening like the other humans. My eyes saw a lot of things, but
had never seen
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anything
like them before. They had these small trees, with no leaves or branches, that
they had carved and painted. Atop of these trees were a figure that I
recognized. They looked like my pack, like my brothers and sisters, like my own
reflection that I had seen in the river before. What did this mean? My
curiosity led me to keep observing them for a while longer.
I
noticed that Òthe human family is a good analogy for the wolf packÓ[3]
and that they did many things such as we did. After watching these kind,
gentle humans, I began to feel a connection with them, particularly with one
young man who I noticed had been watching me as well. Our eyes would catch each
otherÕs glances and we would hold our gaze, mesmerized and fascinated with one
another. It was a few days later that we met face to face in the forest and he
spoke to me. To my amazement, I understood him. He explained to me that the wolf
was the totem animal of his people and that he felt a connection to me. He
believed that I had come into his life at this time because I had lessons to
teach him and he asked for my guidance. Intuitive of
6
my
still timid behavior, he tried to put my mind at ease, by telling me that ÒThe
totem is worshipped or esteemed by members of the clan bearing its name. É.A
totemic animal may be neither killed nor harmed by those who consider
themselves to be its descendants, except on certain occasions when the animal
might be eaten sacramentally.Ó[4]
ÉBut they certainly had no plans of doing that. I believed the things that he
said to me, and I felt them as well. I visited him often after that day, and it
turned out that I did have lessons to teach him. From losing my own pack, I
became very wise about love and relationships, and was also seen as a guardian
figure.[5]
I watched over him, and was also able to teach him, and send messages to the rest
of the human world through him, about how he must treat and respect animals and
the earth. I found myself in a completely different world than the one I had
woken in just a few days prior, but our relationship awakened a new world for
many.
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ÒWhen
we learn to speak with the animals, to listen with animal ears and to see
through animal eyes, we experience the phenomena, the power, and the potential
of the human essence, and it is then that the animals are no longer our
subordinates. They become our teachers, our friends, and
our
companions. They show us the true majesty of life itself. They restore our
forgotten childlike wonder at the world, and they awaken our lost belief in
magic, dreams, and possibilities.Ó[6]
Word
Count: 1,794; Word Count Without Quotes: 1,584
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Bibliography
Abram, David. Becoming Animal. Pantheon Books, 2010.
Andrews, Ted. Animal Speak, Illustrated. Dragonhawk Publishing, 2002.
Benet, Sula. ÒTotemismÓ.
Foster, Charles. Being a Beast, Illustrated. Profile Books Limited, 2016.
Mech, David. Boitani, Louigi. Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation. The University of
Chicago Press, 2003.
Images
https://thejesusquestion.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/easter-totem-pole_peter-and-the-wolf.jpg
http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/wolf-clan-totem-pole-sally-weigand.jpg
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/7e/a4/67/7ea4679032a85e499469db6178d13790.jpg
[1] Charles Foster, Being a Beast, Illustrated. (Profile Books Limited, 2016), 2.
[2] David Abram, Becoming Animal. (Pantheon Books, 2010).
[3] David Mech, Luigi Boitani, Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation. (The University of Chicago Press, 2003), 6.
[4] Sula Benet, ÒTotemismÓ. Course Anthology, 351.
[5] Course Anthology, 367,369.
[6] Ted Andrews, Animal Speak, Illustrated. (Dragonhawk Publishing, 2002), 356 (in Course Anthology).