a wolf will never be a pet

Stuff me in dresses all that you want— the same way you’d put a collar on a wolf, and tighten it like a noose, then drag it around while it tries to escape: an object for your admiration. Make the bear dance and the tiger jump through hoops of fire— their dulled, broken minds don’t know what to do if not your bidding. And if they decide (even once) to think freely, you give them incentive, expecting them to be happy in this ‘compromise’ you gave them. Obviously, the wolf could be a dog if you just raised it like one— if they’re all so similar, why couldn’t it just act like a dog? Take it for walks; throw a ball for it to chase; let it sleep in your bed… One day the ‘dog’ will show its teeth and become a wolf yet again. Wolves are not dogs, just like bears aren’t meant to dance— you can dress them up any way that you like; parade them around; show off your darling prized possession. Oh, what a good little pet. But only when blood is drawn, do you finally learn your lesson: deep down the animal will always be an animal; what it truly is. A wolf is a wolf—it will never be a pet— and, despite all your wishful thinking, I will never be who you want me to be: just like the wolf that howls from the jungle with its pack, wild and free, I do not belong to you. I only belong to me.