A Wolf In My Backyard

When I was little I used to swing every day. Not in a club. This was a huge swing in our yard and I’d go up as far as I possibly could, to the point where falling down wasn’t just dangerous, it was lethal.

A PROFESSIONAL SWINGER! NO, WAIT! THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!

My childhood was filled with vivid dreams of predators, all starring our back yard as the new habitat of some crazy species. I remember the shark dream best (where our house was underwater, of course, and there were sharks swimming over our yard and house, of course) and the wolf dream:
In which a pack of wolves hunted me down from my swing and roamed our backyard. This dream has always scared me, particularly now that it came true.
Not the swing part. The swing is broken.
The wolf part.
My sister and I were watching a TV show with my mom, wrapped up in blankets and pyjamas. We’d had the fire going in the fire pit for quite a while and it was hot, so I’d opened the door to our terrace slightly.
At some point during the TV watching I saw something grey pass the window on the opposite wall of where the door was. I looked again but it was gone. Then I turned and outside the glass door was a fucking wolf.

For a moment I was frozen. The wolf looked at us with what I think was an amused expression. Like ‘wow, you’re just sitting there. Do you realize I’m going to eat you all? Great. Good to have that out in the clear, I was worried you were gonna struggle’.
Reacting on instinct I hurriedly slid the door back in place, but the wolf was faster and pressed in between it and – damn it – it was strong!
It retracted but had broken the door so I could only close it, not lock it. The wolf ran around the house and we locked all doors.
“What do we do?” I gasped. My hands were shaking. How would I go to school tomorrow? How would dad get back? We needed to call dad!
“Call 800-over,” my sister said. “That’s the wolf alarm.”
“Over? Over what?”
“Just do it!”
Bitch had gone crazy from the fright. I called my dad and told him about the wolf.
“Stay inside,” he said.
“Duh!” I replied, or I think I replied something to that effect. It’s hard to be sassy when you just almost got eaten by a gigantic monster that looked sort of like your dead German shepherd.

The wolf came back to our glass wall/slide door and pressed against it, maybe trying to break it? I couldn’t help thinking this was very persistent yet un-wolf-like behavior. I wished I knew something about how to handle these critters.
And then a new wolf appeared. It was about one third larger than the first one and my heart nearly stopped. Its lip curled back and that strange square of sharp teeth they have was showing.
There’s no creepier sight.

I figured maybe it’d be possible to distract them with food and went to the front door. Now that I look back it doesn’t make much sense. We were relatively safe inside and if we waited it out nothing would happen to us.
Then again, these wolves pressed against our window and it started to cave in. I didn’t want to see it when it broke. (Good thing we have an addict we could go to.)
Anyway, I went out and, before the wolves noticed me, threw food in the opposite direction of the house, then hurried back to the front door.
It didn’t work. Rather than following the distraction it now occurred to them that there were several entrances. One came running around to press against the front door as I tried to lock it.
I managed to do just that, then heard stuff happening in the kitchen.
My sister screamed from the living room.
“I’m coming!” I shouted, but first I had to check on the noises in the kitchen.

A wolf was making its way in through the kitchen hood. It was a small, yet aggressive, pup that landed on the stove. I opened a drawer beneath the stove which the wolf fell into it and then I tried to close the drawer, which was probably smothering the thing. (I know ‘poor thing’ would be fitting here, but at this point I didn’t think these were poor creatures at all.)
“Hit it with a pan! Kill it!” my sister shouted, so I did.

And then I woke up in the dark of my room, wondering what time it was because there was no way I was going back to sleep after that. Also, could the light in the hallway please turn on on its own ‘cause I don’t want to walk into the dark unprotected.

It was all a dream!
Ha! Yeah. I just pulled that one. IN A MOTHER FUCKING BLOG POST! Wup!
Y’know, it was kinda foreshadowed by the first dream bit. I’m sorry to slow readers but that’s the way things goes.
And seriously – wolves in my garden? WE HAVE A FENCE, YOU KNOW! And coming down through a kitchen hood? I mean, that was the point when I realized I was dreaming.
I feel like I’m sort of crying wolf here. I mean, now you won’t believe me the day there’s really wolves in my garden.
I’m pretty sure that’s how I die.

(Which is why, wolf – I’m speaking to you as a species here – WOULD YOU PLEASE STAY OUT OF MY COUNTRY?! GO BACK TO GERMANY! THEY LIKE YOU!?)
The title reads “dog or wolf” but that’s a wolf y’all.
(And to clarify: the wolf’s return to Denmark has been confirmed.)

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