The Wolfman’s Wife
Most people think they enter the marriage state with their eyes open, only to find in time that the opposite is true. The Wolfman’s wife is no exception.
She could tell you some tales.
For instance, some of the folklore is dead wrong. If you expect a Wolfman to turn only at the full moon -- or the three days of the full moon -- you’ll be sorely disappointed. It can happen at any time, and depends on his mood. It’s intermittent, almost sneaky. One minute you’re talking to a normal man, and the next he’ll be a ravening beast in shredded Gap trousers that you just got for him the previous Saturday.
It’s trying, and it goes beyond the constantly clogged shower drain (though the amount of fur a Wolfman sheds is amazing at times) or the howling that jolts you awake some nights. You could get used to looking at all of those rare cuts of meat on the dinner table -- even if you’re vegetarian –- but you still wish someone would have warned you about life with a Wolfman. If only someone would have sat down with you as a young woman and explained the birds and the bees and the wolves.
Even archived Dear Abby columns, as judgmental as they are, are of little use when dealing with Wolfmen.
He shakes the bed with his scratching in the night, true, but -- to be perfectly honest -- his fur is warm against you in the winter. And he would protect you to the death –- his loyalty is fierce and unwavering and almost embarrassing under normal circumstances. You can’t deny that he can be sweet.
So sometimes it’s not so bad. And it’s not as if you could leave, even if you wanted.
All wolves, even Wolfmen, mate for life.