WOLF!

"Wolf!" cried the little shepherd boy. "WOLF!" "There ain't no wolf," barked the townsfolk. "Go away!" booed some folks. "There's no time to chase a wolf with vital commerce to get done!" others jeered.

So, the monstrous wolf was left to creep through the forest and down over the hill. And there the wolf ate and ate. She ate the townsfolk's chickens and she ate the townsfolk's goats. She ate and she ate, until she was so full she could eat no more. "WOLF!", cried the little shepherd boy once again, spotting the beast in town. And then the wolf, with belly full, curled up inside the henhouse for a nap.

By the time the townsfolk gathered, they found only bloody hair and feathers strewn about. "Yes, it does appear some chickens and goats died here, but not from any wolf," proclaimed the tailor. "Perhaps it was an owl," offered the teacher. "It's Spring and there are hungry bears about," said the blacksmith, "I saw one fishing down on the river." "But what if it was a shark or a meat-eating dinosaur?" yelled the clockmaker. "Yes, a dinosaur!" agreed the townsfolk. But, tired from all their worry and speculation, they went back to work. The creature awoke, hungry, and circled the town. "WOLF!", cried the little shepherd boy. "WOLF!", he cried, as the wolf ravaged another goat and cleaned out another hen house. Once again, the little shepherd boy cried, "WOLF!" Belly full and now thirsty, the wolf meandered over to the creek. And there she drank. Eventually she curled up for a nap under a willow tree. And again the townsfolk arrived to survey the carnage. "But there are no wolves around here," insisted the hunter. "That's true," agreed the butcher. "Maybe it was a coyote," piped the priest. "Or a rabid hound," offered the clerk. "I bet it was a great white shark!" blurted the blacksmith. "Or a tyrannosaurus!" barked the baker. "More likely a ceratosaurus or deinonychus," offered the baker's daughter.

“But where would such a beast come from?” asked the logger. “And why was there no trace of it?" wondered the poet. "And how could we not hear it coming: a beast twenty feet high and 13,000 pounds?” “Moreover, what does one do about a jaw full of knives standing twenty feet high?” asked the butcher.

“Surely it has an Achilles heel,” speculated the optometrist. “Surely it does not,” retorted the priest, “as those dinosaurs they arrived long before the Ancient Greeks.” “But then what can be done?” the Bitcoin investor worried aloud. Out of questions and concerns the townsfolk headed back to work. When night came, the wolf emerged again, hungry for more goats and chickens. And the little shepherd boy once again cried, "WOLF!" The wolf ate and ate and ate. And when she was stuffed full of chickens and goats she wandered off and went back to sleep, this time under a bush behind the grainstore.

"The bear, it struck again," howled the blacksmith. "Owl" the teacher corrected. "Tyrannosaurus rex" demanded the baker.

"We might not know what it was but what we do know is that there was nothing we could have done," the mayor assured all of the townsfolk. "And, besides," argued the carpenter, "those goats and chickens were the weakest of their flock." "Yes," confirmed the banker, "the ones who were too slow or too frail or without any sense." "Indeed," agreed the accessibility officer. "And they would have died soon, anyway," chimed the chimney sweep. "Right,” the townsfolk all agreed, “nothing we could have done." When morning came the wolf emerged once again, hungry for more goats and chickens. And once again, “WOLF!” howled the little shepherd boy, "WooOooOoLF!" The townsfolk gathered. But again, the wolf was gone, leaving only bloody feathers and fur. “Maybe it is you, little shepherd boy," said the doctor, "yes, maybe it is you who are the wolf!” “Yes, indeed, I've never heard such a wolf-like cry,” said the farmer. “And where were you when those chickens were eaten?” asked the nurse. ‘Yes, and haven’t you been spending a lot of time with the goats, little shepherd boy?" accused the tailor. “But there really is a wolf and I am not she,” cried the little shepherd boy. “I saw her in the woods. And I saw her behind the henhouse and under the tree,” insisted the little shepherd boy. "I will show you where she sleeps.” But the townsfolk didn't believe the silly little shepherd boy. And, even if they did, the townsfolk were tired; and, even if they weren’t tired, they didn’t want be led around by the silly little shepherd boy; and, even if they wanted to, no one wished to chase down an enormous hungry wolf. That was the consensus. And with that, the townsfolk went back to work.

And so, with no one stopping her, the wolf ate and ate. And she ate and ate until she got full once again. Belly full, the enormous wolf curled up for another nap, this time in the sunflower field. And the little shepherd boy cried “WOLF!” once again.

The townsfolk snarled at the boy. “We heard you!" said the painter. "Many times you cried wolf, and we heard you every time!” the nun assured him. “But now the wolf (if that is indeed what it was) is gone!” preached the priest. “Yes, if there ever was one,” the teacher said under his breath.

“But why won't you kill her or catch her, or at least stop her, somehow?” the little shepherd boy queried the quorum. "She has eaten nearly all your prized animals,” he felt he needed to remind them.

Consternation rang all around and hung in the air. Finally, “What would you have us do?” the priest asked rhetorically. “Build a wall thirty-three miles high?” laughed the bricklayer. “A tyrannosaurus-proof fence?” mocked the hunter. “Arm every great-grandmother and newborn child with wolf-slaying spears?” barfed the barista. "Or with some freaky lightsaber nunchucks (which double as bongs)?" contributed the cannabis consultant. “Encircle the town with nine moats, each one filled with lava?” taunted the cloud computing specialist, adding, "nine lava-filled moats filled with lava-proof sharks?"

“Ha!" snapped the Bitcoin speculator, “Okay, let me ask you little shepherd boy," queried the clerk, "what do you think all of this will cost?” “And who would oversee all of this," asked the mayor, “certainly not you, little shepherd boy!" she guffawed. “No!" declared the hunter. "No, no, no!" wailed the clockmaker. "We will not disrupt our lives just to build you your silly tyrannosaurus lava pits!” yelled the priest. The cobbler insisted, "There will be no golden ramparts towering to the moon, child." “Nor will we conscript you a personal army of sword-wielding great white sharks!” exclaimed the nurse. “And” he confirmed, “you will bother us no more with your gibberish!” But the little shepherd boy had already wandered off. He’d marched into the sunflower field. Grabbing the wolf by her tail, the little shepherd boy dragged the beast back into town. Upon returning to the crowd, the little shepherd boy blasted “WOLF!” once again. Again, “WOLF!”

Spent and spitting, the little shepherd boy said, “She has eaten your chickens, healthy and sick, and she has eaten your goats, young and old." He asked, “Can we just be done with this wolf, already; before all your pens and coups have been emptied and, still hungry, she comes for you?"

In one unanimous booming voice the townsfolk blasted back, "NO! YOU CANNOT TELL US WHAT TO DO!"

And right there and then that enormous wolf snarled and wailed. The wolf twisted and craned her neck, as if she was about to let out a great howl; but instead she burst right open, gifting the town a litter of hungry wolves.