My Life As The Wolf Boy

November 25, 2009
When has Mrs. Hillary Rodham Clinton ever said anything wrong? The woman has her stuff together. Give her latest book, It Takes a Village to Raise a Child, a read and you’ll see that for yourself. The topic of your peers being influences to your outcome in life rather than your parents seems legitimate.
When I was four, my mother was diagnosed with a fatal malady. When she passed on, my father was left to care for me on his own. When I was six, he and I went on a camping trip in northern Canada. While ineffectually attempting to set up camp, we were ambushed by a group of nefarious wolves. My father fell victim to them, but I remained untouched. After they were done feasting on my father, the wolves approached me. The initial idea was to eat me as well, but they spared my life and decided to raise me as one of them. From there on, I lived among a pack of wolves. When I was still young and unfamiliar with wolf culture, the older wolves often scrutinized me. The bullying from them made me often furious and depressed, resulting in hatred for the pack. Regardless of their ridicule, the pack still cared for me as if I was one of them. Because I was one of them. Even though I was not from canidae family, the wolves were still accepting of me as a person. As I neared my seventeenth birthday, after living amongst them for eleven years, the wolves granted me their rite of passage to wolfhood. For the first time in my life, I was allowed to run with them at night and howl at the moon. For the first time in my life, I was amicable.
Not long into my journey of wolfhood, the government needed to account for me. After locals reported a young, unshaven man running around the rural towns with a pack of wolves, the officials set out to find this mysterious man, known as “The Crazy Hairy Wolf Dude”. After their vexatious efforts to locate me, sending the pack and me on numerous pursuits through the wilderness, I was finally captured. I was then relocated to New York City for examination. I spent hours a day speaking to doctors whom took notes on my every movement and statement. After a number of books and Dateline special reports were done on me, this group of people started protesting outside of the hospital I was being kept at to let me go. They were successful, and I was allowed to enter society as a citizen of the United States of America. I then enrolled in college at Columbia University in New York and received my master’s degree in biochemistry.
Some nights when I sit in my apartment and look out into the view of the forest near New York City, I think about the wolves whom raised me to be the person I am. With my absence of parents, I was disadvantaged to most people in growing up to become an important person in society. The wolves took over for that and raised me as one of them. I give them more credit than I can write about for that.

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