A shepherd discovered a wolf among his flock. It was only a few feet away when he saw it. “A wolf!” he gasped, bracing himself for an attack.

The wolf, who was draped rather casually in a sheepskin, fixed him with an arrogant stare. “Are you sure about that?” it asked.

“I know a wolf when I see one,” the shepherd replied. “Ah, but I don’t think the sheep agree with you,” the wolf replied. “Look around. They are not afraid. They consider me one of them. Maybe I am?”

The shepherd looked around. It was true. The sheep were grazing happily, quite oblivious to the presence of the wolf. “That doesn’t change anything,” he said. “You are in disguise. You are a wolf. You will eat them either way.”

“I won’t eat all of them,” the wolf objected. “Just the weak and vulnerable, the outcasts. They won’t mind. The flock will be stronger for it. And what is more I shall protect them from other predators. I’m as much a friend to them as you have ever been. You who eat their young, steal their milk, strip the wool from their skin.”

“Eh?” the shepherd replied, struggling to understand the wolf’s argument. “So I ask again,” the wolf continued. “Have you seen a wolf here today? Or a sheep, a very strong, very powerful, very beautiful sheep? Think carefully.”

The wolf bared its long, yellow teeth in a sort of smile. The shepherd gulped. “Well, I suppose it does look like you have a very fine fleece,” he replied. “That’s right,” the wolf agreed. “The softest. You’ve got the idea.”

© Richard Parkin, 2023