DEPRESSION - WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN SHE WAKES UP?
by
Gill Kopy

It was a gray dreary morning, the day of the community Winter Festival. Organizers gathered on the frozen lake looking over their laborious preparations: a curling rink scraped out of the icy snow, a Frisbee golf course and a mini skating rink.

No one was showing up. Depression descended on the organizers like a damp fog – “I guess it’s just us then – perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, planning a fun day on ice in the middle of winter” said a rather large bossy looking woman flumping down on a lawn chair, the two labs, Mick and Bonzo, flopping down despondently too.

Just then a lone skier appeared in the distance with a large backpack heading their way. The organizers felt a slight stir of rising spirits. Maybe a few will show up.

The sun started peaking through the clouds, dappling the snowy white lake with blue and white patches. Next, a snowmobile roars down the lake, and then a couple of ATV’s, people appearing like carpenter ants on a sunny June afternoon.

The sun now totally erupts upon the scene – cheerful chatter replaces the gloomy quiet. Jackets are shed and the organizers get busy forming curling teams and distributing Frisbees to those anxious to show off their tossing prowess. A group of youngsters are batting a puck around the deep blue ice rink, circling and twisting – totally at ease on their skates. Three skiers head off down the lake with energetic strides, followed by Mick and Bonzo. If one of the curlers, skaters or Frisbee tossers had looked up to follow the course of the skiers, he or she would have been horrified to notice two slinking shapes had joined the procession, disappearing in the haze of snow and sky and past the dark outline of the bay’s distant point.

The sun was climbing and the skaters, tossers and curlers were starting to open hampers, pierce wieners onto long, willow sticks and tuck into refreshments, gathering around the flames of the crackling campfire. Suddenly, all heads turned instantaneously in the direction of the skiers’ path at the sound of a hysterical shout and the appearance of a lone skier and two labs moving at a stunning pace towards them.

The panting, red-faced skier joined the crowd who now held their wiener sticks up like assegais, bracing themselves for some dreadful news.

“The wolves….the wolves..” stuttered the skier. “They came after the dogs, trying to lure them into the forest – two females on heat I think”.
The wiener-toting crowd stared, not comprehending.
“You’d better come and see”.
In the mean time Mick and Bonzo had completely disappeared.

Those with skis donned them and others hitched rides on snowmobiles or ATV’s – off to see what disaster lay around the corner of the bay. The group straggled into a long line following the tracks the skis had imprinted on the snowy surface of the lake. Finally they were all assembled around the prostrate body of a disheveled, blood stained wolf and the story unfolded.

The two wolves had followed them and started making advances on Mick and Bonzo. The skiers unsure as how to react encouraged the dogs to chase them away, but the wolves were insistent and finally Bonzo tackled the one wolf. While the second wolf slunk off into the forest, an awful fight ensued with Mick joining in the fray. It was with some difficulty that the skiers were able to pull off the enraged labs. The she wolf, lying on the blood stained snow, appeared unconscious, had a ripped ear and a strangely angled leg – “broken” was the diagnosis from the boggle-eyed group.
“What will you do when she wakes up?” one of the wide-eyed youngsters asked looking up at the responsible skiers.

At this moment a strange, bowed figure appeared from the forest fringe pulling a homemade sled and heading straight for the assemblage. They saw she was a wizened, ancient looking woman. Her threadbare skirt had the appearance of a European traditional dress; wisps of hair hung from under a gray, well worn Balaclava and she clutched an old woolen shawl that clung to her bony shoulders. Her language was unintelligible but she managed to convey the message to the onlookers to gently pick the wolf up and lay it on the sled. The group watched silently as the strange little woman and her wounded wolf disappeared into the woods.

The skiers, curlers, skaters and Frisbee tossers all looked at one another.
“Well, I wonder what she will do when the wolf wakes up?” says one.