As a child, I was captivated by stories of wolves. Whether it was the tales of Little Red Riding Hood or the Big Bad Wolf, I was fascinated by the idea of these wild animals. So when I visited my grandfather’s farm, I was sure I had spotted a wolf. Of course, it wasn’t a wolf at all, but a coyote caught in a trap.
Years later, I thought I had seen my first wolf in the wild. I was visiting Yellowstone National Park with my family and we spotted a herd of bison. As the herd moved on, two animals stayed behind: a mother and her calf. We watched as the mother bison turned back and forth between her calf and the herd, before finally following them. It was heartbreaking to watch her leave her calf behind, and it was in that moment that I realized watching non-human animals could make you feel things that weren’t about being human at all.
But then something even more incredible happened. As the mother bison disappeared into the horizon, a pack of wolves appeared on a nearby hill. It was an amazing sight to behold, and one that I thought I would never forget. But when I told people about my wolf sighting, I realized that I had actually invented the story in my mind.
It was in that moment that I began to doubt the stories I had been told about fear. Stories about real wolves, but other ones too. Those fictions that rippled through my body as fact, even as I tried to guard against them. My first wolf sightings were only in my mind, and it made me realize that the truth is not always what it seems.
