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keep the tank filled with propane this place is never without lights or warmth. Just in case though, I also have two wooden stoves, the fireplaces, and paraffin lamps. My father always told me that the weather here is highly unpredictable and insisted I shouldn’t depend too strongly on man-made things, so I always have a backup. I also have a rule that if Nancy doesn’t hear from me in three days, they should send someone out to check on me. Because I live in a remote area like this, there’s no telling what can happen because of the countless wild animals and freakish weather. Just this past July I couldn’t figure out why the lights in the kitchen and bedroom didn’t work until a friend of mine, who’s a handyman, showed me how the raccoons had gnawed through the wiring. One needs to be prepared for any eventuality.”
    “That is the scout motto,” said Steve, smiling. “And one I didn’t adhere to myself as you can well see.” He was just about to pull out a science fiction movie when a loud thud reverberated through the room and both Tia and Steve jerked violently. The wind howled fiercely and whoever was outside had to pound on the door in a terrific manner just to be heard.
    “Who could that be?” asked Tia , startled.
    “Maybe it’s my realtor,” muttered Steve , and followed Tia as she quickly hurried to the front door. Tia slowly opened the door, enabling an icy blast of whirling snow to hit the pair as a tall, dark-haired man screamed for help. A large flashlight set on the ground beside him, and near him a still, dark form lay.
    “Are you deaf , woman; I said I need some help!” cried the man, and Tia roused herself. The prostrate figure was none other than an unconscious gray loafer wolf.
    “Sugar!” screamed Tia, throwing herself upon the injured animal.
    Steve gasped in amazement.
    “Where’d you find him?” Tia demanded, helping the shadowy man in the dark snow-encrusted parka pull the injured wolf inside. Steve and Tia managed to close the door against the wind as the animal lay on the floor bleeding slowly, crimson drops seeping onto the polished wooden floorboards.
    “Get something to stop t he bleeding,” demanded the dark-haired man, and Tia rushed into the kitchen to grab a green kitchen towel. The stranger pressed it against the wolf’s trembling leg. Steve edged away as the disheveled man glanced up from where he knelt upon the rag rug by the wolf, his boots forming muddy puddles upon the floorboards.
    “Would you perhaps have some first aid su pplies?”
    “Ah,” mumbled Steve. “I... I really don’t know. Tia, do you have something?”
    “Of course,” she replied. “Steve, help him carry the wolf to the fireplace where it’s warm. I’ll bring you the first aid kit.” The two men lifted the heavy wolf and placed him before the roaring fire. Steve noticed the canine teeth protruding over the wolf’s slack lips as they lowered the animal gently upon the rag rug. Even unconscious, the animal looked extremely ferocious. Tia quickly returned with the medical kit, and taking the cloth bent over the prone animal, trying to stop the seeping wound.
    “Here, let me,” said the stranger. “You’ve got to press harder or you’re wasting your time.” He grabbed the cloth from Tia and pressed it against Sugar’s leg.
    “Do you have a name?” asked Steve coldly, i mmediately disliking the abrupt manners of the stranger.
    “Yeah, it’s Jon Simons , and while driving home I noticed this animal upon the side of the road and pulled over. Upon glimpsing the lights of your cabin I knew it was the only chance the wolf had. I took a risk you’d have first aid supplies and be willing to help the creature. Most decent people would,” he stated abruptly, his tanned, work-roughened hands moving expertly over the wolf’s wounds.
    “Oh Sugar, what happened to you?” moaned Tia , working swiftly to patch up the injured leg before the wolf roused.
    “The wolf’s name is