Becoming Nature by Tamarack Song

Author:Tamarack Song
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nature/Shamanism
Publisher: Inner Traditions/Bear & Company
Published: 2016-03-08T05:00:00+00:00

Wolf Tag

Years ago in my youth I was privileged to live with a pack of semi-domesticated Wolves. Simbut, which means Silver Wolf in Mohican, was the alpha female. We met when she was eleven days old and her eyes hadn’t yet opened. I was right there when they did, and we bonded instantly. We grew up as pack mates, which gave me an intimate view into the life of a being who dwelled in natural Oneness.

From time to time I’d notice Simbut going off by herself to find a quiet place, perhaps slightly elevated, with a good view of her surroundings. There she’d sit, sphinxlike, and in short order she’d look very relaxed. Her breathing slowed, her eyes were half closed, and she seemed oblivious to her surroundings, ready to drift off to sleep.

“What an opportunity!” I’d tell myself. Sneaking up behind her, I’d attempt to give her tail a tweak. It was the form of tag we played, with her nipping at my ankles to tag me.

However, it was hardly a fair game, as she nearly always bested me. I hate to admit that, so I usually just say that she hated having her tail touched. And it’s true: any time I got close, she’d tuck it between her legs and scoot her hindquarters away from me as fast as she could.

It seemed as though she was overreacting just to be comical. Whether or not she intended it, she looked so silly with her rear end practically rolled underneath her belly that I’d end up writhing on the ground in a fit of laughter.

Worse yet, she’d then exploit my vulnerability by rushing in to nip my ankles.

Yet her love of the game overruled how much she detested having her tail touched. She would flirt her derrière confidently before me, knowing the odds of me actually nabbing it were close to nil. So I didn’t at all see that I was taking advantage of her when she was half asleep; I just figured the odds were closer to even.

I would take my time stalking, moving stealthily when the breeze rustled the branches, then freezing when the breeze stilled. Detecting no change in Simbut’s demeanor, I’d grow hopeful that this would finally be the time I could best her.

The only movement I could detect from her would be an ear moving ever so slightly. Wolves, like many other animals, periodically turn their ears to catch sounds from various directions. Yet Simbut’s ear movements were so casual and seemingly disconnected from her consciousness that I’d just pass it off as twitches.

When I got close enough, I’d extend my hand very carefully, inching closer and closer to that elusive tail. Just as I was about to wrap my fingers around it and surprise the heck out of her—finally giving me a point—she would bolt like lightning, with her tail between her legs and that silly scramble with her hindquarters tucked under her belly.

And would I jump! What a master of deception—she had to be watching me the whole time.

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