OOoooowwww! It’s a Howler!
I descend from a long line of dedicated Howlers, none more devoted to the fine art of The Howl than my beloved big brother, Craig, known to all as WolfMan Howler of Tennessee.
Okay, fine. I just now made that up. But he should be known to all as WolfMan Howler of Tennessee because: a). He lives in Tennessee; and b). He’s a Howler. And a ridiculously handsome devil, too. . .but now I’m just bragging.
A true Howler is not one of those folks who howls just to howl. Anyone can do that. No, buttercup, a bona fide Howler is one who harbors a deep appreciation and love for the beauty of the night sky, particularly when the moon is at its fullest and the earth is illuminated by the ethereal glow; a Howler is one who recognizes in the wild call of the wolf a kindred, independent spirit reveling in the joy and vastness of the universe.
As a Howler myself, I can attest to the fact that lifting one’s face toward the moon and letting fly a heartfelt, “OOoooowwww!” is a fine way to commune with nature. If you have never offered a vibrant, head-thrown-back howl to the night sky, I dare you to give it a try. You’ll be hooked after the first “OOoooowwww!” Your neighbors might wonder about you, but if they don’t already then you need to work on being more of an individualist. Good for the spirit, that. If you are nervous about your first Howl, have a few margaritas first.
The mailbox pictured above is my big bro’s way of honoring The Howl. Fortunately for him, his significant other, known to one and all as WolfLady Howler of Tennessee (oh, okay…not really; her name is Jeri), co-created that masterpiece of a mail receptacle. The little wolf sitting on top of the box is Wolfie, a gift to the happy couple from yours truly. Wolfie joins them on their adventures and makes friends wherever he goes. He doesn’t know he’s a stuffed toy, so don’t tell him. He won’t believe you anyway.
Scroll up and take another look at that superb mailbox, built to honor The Howl. It is a masterpiece. OOoooowwww!
Happy Howling –