A sheep in wolf's clothing

She knows that she will be unmasked one day. It is only a matter of time. That much is certain. Maybe it is for the best. How long has fear been crawling through her body like an electric eel? How long has she been unable to sleep at night? To rest, to idle?

She does not know any better. It was her own choice. But did she have a way out? All things considered, it was a matter of life and death at the time. Of course, she could have chosen to be devoured. To be crushed, torn apart, maimed. Instinctively, she did not choose it. She decided to play along. To pretend. That is why she dressed up. That is why she survived. It went well, too. She adapted very quickly. Until she herself no longer knew the difference. How she used to be. A lamb. How she is now. A sheep in wolf's clothing.

No doubt, it was exciting in the beginning. How would we wolves react to her? She might have been wearing wolf clothes, but she was still small, clumsy, slow. And alone. On her own.

No one paid any attention to her. She kept quiet. She gave her ears and eyes a good workout. How did wolves walk? How did they howl? How did they eat? How did they rest? Admittedly, it caused her a lot of headaches. Sometimes she was at her wits' end. She turned out to be creative. She found a solution for every problem.

After a while she discovered that wolves and sheep were not that different from each other. From the outside. Yes, that was clear. But as soon as you are in the group, as soon as you speak the right language, have the right scent, adopt the agreed habits, accept the hierarchy, keep your mouth shut at the correct time. Then you are one of the group. Then your companions no longer notice you.

Sometimes things go so well here that she becomes a bit sloppy. Her fur slides off her shoulder, she is too careful not to eat meat, she doesn’t howl at full moon. Fortunately, she has managed to correct her mistakes so far. How she growls, how she runs, how she flees, how she hides, how she plays. Just like a wolf.

So why has there been this doubt lately? Maybe it's because she's not been a lamb for a long time. Or a cub. It's time for her to leave the group. But in what capacity? Who is she really? What is her identity? Is she an actor? A joker? A nincompoop? Is that what it comes down to? That she's excellent at fooling everyone?

Does she regret it? Her metamorphosis from sheep to wolf? Should she have done it differently? Deep in her heart she knows the answer. But she can reconcile herself with it less and less. Moore and more, she feels a fake, a forgery, an imitation, a facade.

Is this her life from now on? A sham existence? To meet the expectations of others? To put on a good show? So that she doesn't get into trouble herself? So that she can get through the days calmly, graciously and contentedly? Like young robins hiding in crooked nest boxes, like old squirrels sleeping on wet moss?

One night she lies awake and has made the decision. This can't go on any longer. It's time for people to know who she really is. No more acting. No more disguise. No more pretending. And she knows very well what that will mean. But anything is better than this constant helplessness, this all-pervading fear and oppression.

She creeps up on the Father. A half-full moon illuminates his brown-gray fur. She sees his fierce eyes, his razor-sharp teeth.

The Mother lies further away in the tall grass. The youngest cubs frolic around her. The older ones romp in the sandpit.

She hesitates. Does she really want this? Isn't this hidden life better than no life? Isn't this unknown existence better than no existence?

"I have to confess something," she whispers to Father. He looks at her. Deep, serious, surprised. Then the leader calls the others to him. The Mother, the cubs. A moment later they stand around her.

“I am not a wolf,” she says. “I am a sheep.” For a moment there is silence. She hears the shrieking of a tawny owl. Then a loud cheer breaks out. Cheering? A roar of laughter, a liberating cry.

“You are not a wolf?” says the Mother. “We knew that all along! We just love you the way you are. You clumsy, foolish sheep!”