The Dog and the Wolf

The story

Once, at the edge of a deep green forest, there lived a wolf so thin that his ribs showed plainly beneath his dusty grey-blue coat. He had not eaten a good meal in days, and even his footsteps had grown slow and weary. One evening, as he wandered along the forest's edge looking for food, a rich, meaty smell drifted past his nose. He followed it and found a big dog, round and glossy-coated, strolling proudly down a path.

The wolf could hardly believe his eyes. "Friend dog," he said, "how did you grow so plump, with such a shining coat? I run through this forest every day and still barely find a bite to eat." The dog puffed out his chest proudly. "It is easy," he said. "I guard a farmhouse at night, and my master brings me a full bowl of meat and bones every single day. I never have to worry about anything — I only need to stay close to home."

The wolf's stomach growled loudly at the thought. He pictured warm meals every day and a dry place to sleep under a roof, and he could not help saying, "That sounds wonderful — so much better than being cold, wet, and hungry in the forest. Do you think your master would take me in too?" "Of course," said the dog cheerfully. "Just come along with me!" So the two of them walked side by side down the path toward the farmhouse, the wolf's heart light with excitement and gratitude.

As they walked, the wolf noticed a strange bare patch on the dog's neck, where the fur had worn thin and a bit of pink skin showed through. Curious, he stopped and asked, "What happened there, on your neck?" The dog paused, touched the spot with a paw, and answered simply, "Oh, that? At night, my master ties a thick chain around my neck so I won't wander off. It rubbed a bit at first, but I've gotten used to it by now."

The wolf stopped walking. His excitement slowly faded as he stared at the worn mark on the dog's neck. "So," he said slowly, "you eat well all day, but at night you are chained up, and you cannot even go where you please?" The dog nodded, unbothered. "You get used to it," he said. "It's better than going hungry."

The wolf shook his head and stepped back. "Thank you for your kindness, friend, but I don't think I will come after all." The dog looked surprised. "Why not? You'll never go hungry again if you stay with me!" The wolf looked toward the deep forest, where moonlight fell softly through the trees, and said quietly, "A full belly is not worth losing my freedom. I would rather go without." And with that, he turned and walked back toward the trees.

That night, the wolf made his way alone through the quiet forest. His stomach was still empty, but his steps felt lighter than before, and he ran and leapt through the moonlight, breathing in the free night air. Far away, beneath the farmhouse eaves, the dog had already been chained up for the night. He curled up, glanced toward the forest, wagged his tail once, and settled down quietly to wait for tomorrow's bowl of meat and bones.