Howling at the moon

We have a visitor in the neighborhood. A large, gorgeous creature who loves to lay in the grass all day. He's staying with a family across the street and just a few doors down. We see him regularly.

He visited last January also, with his Alaskan family.

Upon first glance, this creature is a husky, beautiful and majestic. He's friendly and social. Last year, he and his doggie brother or sister came up to Greta and Cassie on our walk just to say hello. A few sniffs all around and we were all on our way.

But this January, my husband learned through the neighborhood grapevine that our visitor wasn't a husky at all. But a wolf.

Rescued by the Alaskan family as a pup, abandoned by his pack, and raised with their other dogs. We thought back to the encounters Greta and Cassie have had with the wolf last year and this year: all friendly. He's only come over to say hello.

I do recall on one occasion last year though when Cassie growled at him from across the street. Maybe she sensed something wasn't quite right with our new friend.

I looked at our wolf friend a little differently when I drove past him lounging in the grass this morning. He's definitely gorgeous, no doubt about it. And by all accounts he's perfectly friendly and domesticated.

But there's a wolf living in the neighborhood.