The Dog's Tale

The Dog’s Tale

The back door opened and a black Labrador retriever stepped out into the snow followed by a man who clipped a light chain to the dog's collar, then retreated to the warmth of the cabin.

  The dog glanced over his shoulder apprehensively as the door closed behind him for he 

  had become immediately aware of a presence in the moon-shadows at the edge of the
  wood surrounding the cabin.
  Walking with raised hackles to the end of his chain, he sniffed the air.

  Out of the darkness in front of him, a wolf spoke. 

  'Have you anything to eat?'
  'No!' the dog replied, startled. But regaining his composure, he said, 'No, not out here.  
  My food is inside.'
  The wolf stepped out into the moonlight and circled the dog. 'You look sleek and well 
 fed.'
  'And you look gaunt and starving,' the dog replied. And drawing courage from the wolf's    impoverished aspect, he ventured, 'Maybe you should come live with me in the cabin,         where my man will feed you. Then you will be sleek, too.'
  The wolf smiled, 'Maybe you should slip your collar and come run in the wilds with      
  me.'     
 'Then I would be gaunt, just as you are.'
 'Perhaps,' the wolf allowed. 'But in that collar and on that chain, you are a slave.'
 'A well-fed slave,' the dog admitted.
 'I may be gaunt,' the wolf said, turning back to the shadows, 'but I am

  free.'
  'In all respects, save hunger,' the dog called after him.

  The years passed and the exchange was in some manner repeated every year.

   As the wolf aged, he ventured further into the clearing and nearer the cabin.

  As the dog grew older, he no longer required the guardianship of his chain and
  ventured further into the moon-shadows.

 The wolf taunted him, saying that the chain had merely become invisible and that the  
 dog was yet a slave.

  The dog mocked the wolf as a fool for, with the passing of years, the wolf s hard life     
  became increasingly evident in scars and badly mended injuries.
  One winter, the wolf failed to appear.

  The dog found his scant remains in the spring, while exploring the woods around the 
  cabin.
  The next winter, the dog was ill. His breath was short and his chest was tight.
  One night, as he struggled through the snow to the edge of the wood and sniffed the   
  wind, he thought he heard the wolf's voice. Or was it only the wind in the trees?
  He forced himself through the moon-shadows to the spot where he had found the wolf's   remains and there he lay down, gasping for his breath.
  I cannot make it back, he thought, casting a glance over his shoulder at the distant  
  light of the cabin. I must die here.
  'Well, Wolf,' the dog said softly, 'we have arrived at the same place by different lives. 
  And the freedoms we've had were but the slavery we chose.'
  His muzzle settled into the soft snow, his eyes closed, and he breathed no more.

Copyright © February 2007, Kenneth E Ely