To be honest, I don't really remember when we got the wolf, I figure I blocked it out and it's tucked away deep in my subconscious due to it being just too painful to relive. But what I do recall is the barbaric torment she's inflicted on me since that time. Like having 9 stone of soaking wet fur jumping into your bed in the morning, or hearing an almost human knock on the door at night and upon answering it being attacked by the wolf, whose soaking wet and has managed to drag half of the trees in my garden in with her. Not to mention her constant howling (the whole full moon thing is a lie, they do it all the time).
But the most annoying thing about the wolf is my mothers undying (and fairly obsessive) love for her. You see, apparently the middle child is naturally jealous of the youngest child, which according to my mother is the wolf. This is known as 'Middle Child Syndrome' Yeah, apparently hating your pet wolf is an actual disease.. Who knew?
That aside, something happened this week, something which exceeded my wildest dreams. I found some minuscule, tiny, trace element form of love for the wolf. Mam announced she was thinking of bidding good day to the beast. Delighted? Not quite. I got a pang, the type of pang a girl gets for her dog, not her wolf. It was like something out of a Disney film. I wanted the wolf to stay.
Anyway, to cut a short blog shorter, we're keeping the wolf. And I'm probably to blame for this. I am positive that it's a decision I'll live to regret, but sure if worst comes to worst I'll just take her to the vets and get her put down on the sly. ;) But Until that time comes I shall enjoy my newly discovered love of the wolf.