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Random musings on a writer's life & times, with occasional input from acquaintances

 

Sunday, August 21, 2005

 
I was in northern Idaho a couple of weeks ago, attempting suicide by bicycle, when I spotted this little shop called “Wolf People” more or less in the middle of nowhere. Wolves have long intrigued me, so I staggered off the bike for a few minutes.

Turns out the people who run the joint are wolf preservationists. They sell wolf paraphernalia of various sorts to raise money for their preservation efforts and keep a couple of wolves in pens out back to show curious tourists (staff-guided tours only, so nobody gets et like the amateur bear expert in that Werner Herzog movie.)

Wolves interest me, as I said, but I learned I have even more in common with them than I previously intuited. I discovered this by reading the “Wolf Property Laws” as printed on the back of t-shirts sold in the shop. The shirts read this way:

Wolf Property Laws

1. If I like it, it’s mine.

2. If it’s in my mouth, it’s mine.

3. If I can take if from you, it’s mine.

4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.

5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.

6. If I’m chewing something up, all the pieces are mine.

7. If it just looks like mine, it’s mine.

8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.

9. If you are playing with something and put it down, it automatically becomes mine.

10. If it’s broke, it’s yours.

Wolves and I think so much alike, I had to buy one of those shirts. If you see me wearing it, obey the rules. I bite.





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