White Fang ~ Adaptation via Adoption

 i did tell you about the wolf encounter up north? I was walking in February chill of -70C in the coldest recorded spot near White River, Ontario, Home of Winnie the Pooh. This day would change my life forever, for when I chanced to see this white dog, he immediately came over to me and he followed me home. He did not appear cold at all, no frozen feet, nothing to think that he was suffering at all. Undoubtedly he was a stray because he was very sociable and extraordinarily friendly. At that time, I had two female boxer-mix dogs, Nibbles the mother and Blackie, her daughter. The lovely stray had perfect markings, and a vibrant glow about him. He ate some food and water in front of my dogs that just sat there watching with wide-eyed wonder his every move. He seemed so very grateful after this libation, and I knew there was something very different about him. I looked deep into his dark eyes, where I met an intelligence I won't soon forget. At this moment I had some strong suspicions we were entertaining a white wolf, yet I did not fear him. The other dogs seemed in awe of this white dog. For the next few days it followed me as I walked my children 3 blocks to school each frosty morning. I wondered why it always insisted on going outside after it was fed. I tried to keep it indoors but it did not want this, yet every morning there he was waiting for food and drink. On the third morning as my two small children and myself were walking to school everything was glistening, the snow appeared as diamonds to me; everything seemed so magical. I do believe I was falling in love with my foundling. It would be this bright February morning when White Fang proved his mettle. I had decided to train him, and I had tied my blue scarf to his neck, a way of very slowly adopting to him and him to us; so that he would stay always with us. I felt a lull on the scarf, and looked down to see that White Fang was decidedly not moving, in fact he had stopped walking and stood engarde, his head erect, his right foot pointed. Suddenly, a huge dog, a Great Dane was trying to attack us. White Fang stood his ground. When the Dane came upon the White Fang all of his motions stopped cold frozen and crystalized on the burningly cold midair. I recall the Dane's foggy breath; a hanging fear; suspended over my head upon the cloud. I had closed my eyes upon impact, as the dog had come inches from my face. I worried about The Call of The Wild. Yet when The Dane noticed the look in the eyes of White Fang, he immediately ran back to his Goth master, as far away as his lithe legs would move; into the opposite direction, near the deepest part of the frozen tundra, near the petrified woods. To this day I am not sure if I was entertaining a White Wolf, an Angel, or Bobby? Perhaps all three; remembering the Celtic knot~!!