ArchivedKatie and the Wolf
Last Updated (Tuesday, 15 December 2009 04:42) Written by Megan Whitney Wednesday, 12 November 2008 20:54
This is my take on Little Red Riding Hood. Enjoy! :)
Once upon a time there was a very curious little girl named Katie. One day Katie’s mother asked her to bring some deer soup to her sick grandmother. Katie agreed, eager to get rid of the chunky soup that she had convinced herself contained the remains of Bambi. The little girl much preferred veggie soup instead.
Before leaving Katie’s mother instructed her to walk the two blocks straight to Grandmother’s house, and to not stray from the sidewalk or she might get lost or hit by a car. It was a very hot summer day and as Katie made her way to Grandma’s house she noticed no other children were outside playing. Instead, they were locked up in their houses with the air conditioners blasting, watching other little girls wearing too little clothing on TV. These TV shows left the other kids wanting; wanting to be famous, wanting too little clothes themselves, wanting too many toys. Katie didn’t like to watch these shows and she thought it sad the other children preferred them over playing at the lake or keeping cool under the shade of a tree.
About a block away from Grandma’s Katie heard a loud rustling sound coming from the side of a house. Being the curious little girl she was, Katie went to find out what had created all the racket. Nearing the house she discovered a wolf digging through someone’s trash can.
“Wolf, why are you digging through the trash?”
“I am hungry,” he answered, his mouth full of garbage.
“But wolves don’t eat trash.”
The wolf thought this was a very good point and considered eating the little girl instead. Alas, he realized he liked the taste of humans just as much as he liked the taste of garbage, which wasn’t a lot. Humans were dry, chewy, and rather tasteless; much the way they appeared to be.
“You’re right,” said the wolf, “I prefer deer myself. I can almost smell the tender, hearty flesh now. Smells like home.”
“That’s because I have deer soup. I’m taking it to my grandma.”
At the mention of this the wolf started thinking. He should eat both Katie and the soup, and then steal her clothes, and trick grandma into believing he was her. He could eat two humans and have deer soup for dessert. They may not taste good, but at least he’d be full and would be spared another night of dining on banana peels and coffee grinds.
“Wolf, why don’t you eat deer then, instead of digging in the trash?”
“Because you people got to them first fearing they would overpopulate the land where you built your houses, land that was once home to both me and the deer. Now they’re all gone and I have to eat off your leftovers.”
As they were talking a man walked out of the house to see Katie and the wolf by his trash..
“Don’t worry little girl,” he said aggressively, “I won’t let the wolf hurt you.”
“It’s not me who’s hurt, it’s the wolf. He’s starving and homeless.”
The man, who wasn’t listening to Katie, thought about how warm the wolf’s fur would be in the winter. Just as he was figuring out how to get to his gun without being attacked by the wolf, however, Grandma came around the corner looking for her granddaughter who was running very late. “There you are Katie, I was worried. Your mother called me and said you’d be by half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry Grandma, but I met this wolf. He’s hungry and has no home. Can we help him?” Then the grandma, being a very kind and logical woman, convinced the man to not kill the wolf, but to help him instead. They called up their representatives and lobbied to make the wolf’s habitat on reserved land so people couldn’t build their homes there. They then got the deer put on the endangered species list so humans couldn’t hunt them, and there would be plenty of deer for wolves to eat.
Katie realized how glad she was to have followed her curiosity, straying from the sidewalk. Had she not, she would never have been able to help the wolf have a home and full belly; and now her belly always got to be full of veggie soup.
