The ears were pointed and slightly too long. And the paws… large, with powerful claws. I froze.
The little creature lifted its gaze — amber eyes glowing faintly in the dim bathroom light. And it gave a quiet growl. My heart dropped.
This was no puppy. I carefully wrapped it in a towel and called a veterinarian I knew, telling him I’d found “a wounded dog near the forest.” He agreed to see us right away. At the clinic, the vet took just one look at the animal, and his face immediately changed.
He froze for a moment, then said quietly:
— That’s not a dog… It’s a wolf cub. I was speechless. A real baby wolf.
It was exhausted and weak, but according to the vet, it would survive — and most likely its pack was somewhere nearby. The next morning, I took it back to the place where I had found it. I set the carrier down on the grass and opened the door.
The little wolf stepped out, looked back at me one last time — and ran toward the forest. 🌲
