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Silent Paws Gerri K. McCann Silent paws trotting on a well beaten trail, alone in the wilderness, so young and so frail. Little yips go unanswered, the moon is now his guide, looking for ones just like him, or have all of them just died? He sniffs the dampened ground and senses man everywhere, the silence is deafening no howls in the air. Oh why did he venture so far from his den, while his pack fell silent at the hands of men? His stomach is growling but the hunger he’ll endure, his pack family is out there it’s their blood he smells for sure. He stops in his tracks and raises his head up high, the terror overwhelms him as he lets out another cry. But still there’s no answer he can’t understand why, he’ll follow their trail or he surely will die. For days now he’s traveled his spirit and body gone weak, he lies down in white clover no more energy left to speak. Soon the soul hovers over this tiny, frail pup, whose future now will be guarded as his soul travels up. What right does man have to take life from a living thing, that has no way to voice its defense against a human being? The wolf is a symbol, a brother, a friend. it’s time now for action before his existence comes to an end.
