Canis Lupus and the Full Moon

Wolves don't really howl at the full moon, they say; it's just brighter and, therefore, they see better to be out and about, when presumably they howl. In fact, the full moon has the light equivalent of a 15w lightbulb on the ceiling, by which many things can be done (who hasn't turned off the car lights at least once while driving under a full moon?!). As a teenager, I would climb the ladder to our flat-roofed, stand-alone garage at four-ten Harrison Street to write love letters by the full moon. And I WAS howling at the moon.



In Native American culture, a child chooses (or is chosen by) an animal whose Spirit guides and mentors him/her throughout life. After my 1990 divorce, the Gray Wolf and I chose each other. I had been separated from the pack and had to learn how to howl my way back home.

Now segue to last Friday night, the eve of this blog's inception just 4 days before the full moon. A resident's family member came to EdenBrook, the assisted-living facility where I work, with a wolf-like seven-week-old husky pup. Within seconds, that little "pretend wolf" was in my arms, clutching its paws around my neck (I have a scratch to prove it). All time stood still as I embraced her frightened rhythms, whispering Honeyed Words of the Ages into her ear until she was calm and our breath was one.

In that moment I saw my Soul; and I howled at the moon.