by John Enright

The little girl who found the wounded wolf
And bandaged up its paw, had made a friend
Who wouldn't leave her. Though he seemed aloof,
He walked along beside her without end,
Quietly padding with dogged devotion,
Sniffing the air and eyeing everyone
Who came near her, and with a gentle motion
Nudging her back at times. When day is done,
He curls up next to her and feels her warmth,
And this is his idea of happiness.
He does not know it's taken a strange form.
His ears are tuned to listen to the beat
Of her soft heart. His tongue flicks out a kiss
Upon her cheek and savors there the sweet
Nature that nursed him back to health again.
She falls to dreaming, safe within his den.