So did I really see a wolf?

Most mornings, I am woken up early by the sound of a low growl. I ignore it, but soon it is followed by an impatient bark. Still I ignore it. And then I am fully stirred, when pushing home the joint assault, Holly the lurcher leaps to sit on my chest, and Millie the husky cross, starts to tug at my wrist. It’s only just getting light, so it must be time for a walk!

So off, we go, along the camino, and we soon came across Antonio, standing by the open boot of his ancient blue Fiat, parked near the track down to the first fuente.  Antonio now lives in Oria, but has spent most of his life in the Barranco, and still likes to drink the local waters. ‘Could I help him’? He wanted to fetch a couple of large bottles of water, but he had a hernia, so if he held my dogs for me, could I go and fetch some for him.

Antonio's Balsa

I went down to the fuenta to collect the water, my good deed being rewarded by the sight of blue dragon flies skimming the surface of the balsa. I also enjoyed a cool face rinse and hand cup of water from the fresh mountain spring.  Antonio and I happy, we continued on our way.

A little owl watched us with little apparent interest from its perch on the telephone wire; and over the valley, which was now out of shadow; a pair of eagles were circling on the first thermals. We surprised a couple of rabbits, but I was able to restrain the dogs, so much to their disappointment, the rabbits were able to scarper up the mountain.

A little further on, we came across Juan, Jose’s brother, down from Alicante for a few days. He was scrabbling about on the steep side of the camino, collecting something in a plastic bag from a sprawling ground plant. ‘What are you doing’, I asked? He replied that he was collecting ‘alcaparras’, and that he didn’t like them, but his wife did, but only the very small ones, after they had been pickled in vinegar and salt. Needless to say, I had to look that one up – capers!

A caper bush

Then we cut down towards the rambla. Past Katty’s, with strings of red peppers already drying in the sun. Past Isobel’s, large tomatoes ripening on vines in her small front garden and a bucket of prickly pears on her door step.; and then past Mel and Josephine’s and a friendly greeting from Ruff, their rescued Spanish Water Spaniel.

This morning we had the rambla to ourselves. We were approaching the Boca de Oria; where nearly five years ago, when we had first moved to the Barranco, we had come across Katty and her cousins from Diamuz enjoying a merienda – a picnic party, that we weren’t allowed to leave, until we’d taken a full share of the paella cooked on the open fire, and the melon cooled in the nearby fuenta, washed down of course, with copious amounts of home made wine and whiskey and coke! oh dear!

No merienda today though.

I felt a tightening of the leads and there was a low growl, but not the’ get up and come for a walk’ growl; something far more serious; and up ahead I spotted the cause for concern. Another dog maybe, but not one I’d seen around here, before or since. It was certainly not a fox, far too big. Grey and Alsatian like, but sleek, if not scrawny,  and with very long legs, that didn’t so much trot as pad, as it slinked into the undergrowth, with it’s bushy tail fixed firmly between it’s legs.

Millie and Holly -  the Wolf Slayers

So did I see a wolf? I don’t know for sure. My research says that, while their numbers in Spain are increasing, they haven’t settled here yet. However, they say the same thing about pole cats, and I definitely know I’ve seen one of those.