My wife and I are sitting on the front porch after a long day of moving furniture and boxes into

our new house. We were tired, red faced, and sweating after sharing the burden between the two of us.

The sun was setting on the horizon as we sipped our warm beers and looked out over the landscape

of our newly acquired ranch. Field stretched off into the distance as far as the eye could see.

There was not a neighbor in sight for miles. The cows were grazing, looking unhappy,

their tails hanging straight down as they ignored the fresh grass all around them.

I figured they were just upset from the long move.

Why do you think they needed so many locks? My wife asked, taking a sip of her beer.

It was the elephant in the room, so to speak. And I had to admit, I was curious about it as well.

Every door in the house had a deadbolt on it, inside, and out. Not only that,

but the windows were shielded by thick iron bars. The old owners had left long before we could

ask them about it. The folks who lived here before were probably paranoid about home invasion so far

from the city. We'll take them down and I'll fill the screw holes with wood putty. We'll paint

them over and they'll be good as new. You want it to redo the trim anyway. And the bars on the

windows? That'll take a bit more work. But I can get it done before the weekend. I'll just have to

run over to the hardware store to grab a few things. My wife was no longer paying attention.

She was staring at some point far off in the distance. What's that? She asked, pointing.

I followed her finger and looked to see a large gray wolf moving in the fields.

It seemed to be stalking deliberately toward us, marching at a steady, quick pace.

It came to a fence and did the strangest thing. Instead of leaping over it, or burrowing under it,

as I'd expected. It stood up on two legs like a person, grasped the loose corner of the wire

fencing and pulled it up, ducking between the strands and stepping through, one leg after the

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