“Where were you? I thought something had happened to you. I thought—” “Grandma,” Mateo gasped, “there’s a wolf.” “What?” “A wolf in the desert… it’s chained up, it’s dying. We have to help it.” Esperanza stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “Mateo, those animals are dangerous. We can’t.” “It’s dying, Grandma. Someone tort.ured it. It’s alone, it’s going to d.ie if we don’t do something.” The old woman saw something in her grandson’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before: determination, compassion, courage, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it.
She sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her years in every bone. “All right,” she said finally. “We’ll go at dawn tomorrow.” Mateo shook his head. “He won’t survive until tomorrow. We have to go now.” Esperanza gazed into the darkness of the desert. Going out at night was dangerous. There were snakes, scorpions, coyotes. And if that wolf was really there, there could be others nearby. But she saw the plea in Mateo’s eyes and couldn’t refuse. “Give me a few minutes to get ready,” she said. Mateo felt an enormous sense of relief.
While his grandmother gathered supplies, he drank his fill of water and put on a clean shirt. Esperanza packed a backpack with bandages, rubbing alcohol, a water bottle, some dried meat, a large flashlight, and just in case, her husband’s old ri.fle. She hadn’t used it in years, but it still worked. She also took a pair of thick leather gloves and a sharp kni.fe. If they were going to free that wolf from its chain, they would need tools. They set off together under the moonlight.
Mateo led the way, trying to remember the path. The night was freezing, and the wind blew fiercely, whipping up sand that lashed their faces. Esperanza walked slowly, leaning on a cane, breathing heavily. Her knees ached terribly, but she said nothing. She didn’t want to worry her grandson. They walked for almost two hours. Mateo began to doubt himself. What if he’d gone the wrong way? What if he couldn’t find the place? What if the wolf was already de.ad? But then he saw the sk.ull-shaped rock.
She pointed. Esperanza shone the flashlight ahead, and they both cautiously approached. The wolf was still there, barely moving. Its breathing was shallow and ragged. It was worse than it had been that afternoon. Esperanza knelt beside it, ignoring the pain in her knees, and shone the light on the animal. “My God,” she whispered, “it’s a she-wolf, and she’s pregnant.” Mateo was speechless. Now that his grandmother said it, he could see it. The she-wolf’s belly was swollen, not just from her wounds, but from the life growing inside her.
“We have to get her out of here,” Esperanza said firmly. “Now.” Mateo nodded. His grandmother took out the kni.fe and began working on the chain. It was old and rusty, but still strong. It took several minutes to find the weakest link and break it. The wolf didn’t move during the entire process, not even when the collar finally came off her neck. Esperanza carefully checked her wounds, barely touching the skin so as not to cause her more pain. She had a broken leg, several fractured ribs, and was dehydrated.
“I don’t know if she’ll survive the trip back. We have to try,” Mateo said. Esperanza nodded. Between the two of them, with tremendous effort, they managed to slip a blanket under the she-wolf and carefully drag her out. She was heavy, much heavier than they had expected. Esperanza felt like her arms were going to break, but she didn’t stop. Mateo pulled with all his might, his hands covered in blisters. The she-wolf was breathing heavily, but she didn’t resist. It was as if she knew they were trying to help her.
The walk back was tor.ure. Every meter felt like a kilometer. The sand sank beneath their feet, making it difficult to drag themselves. Esperanza had to stop several times to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, and she felt dizzy. Mateo was terrified his grandmother would collapse, but she always found the strength to keep going. Finally, as the sky began to clear with the first rays of dawn, they arrived home. They took the wolf to the small stable where they used to keep the goats before they were sold.
Esperanza prepared a bed of straw and old blankets. Then she began cleaning the wolf’s wounds with warm water and alcohol. The animal shuddered in pain, but didn’t attack, didn’t bite, only whimpered softly. A sound so sad it broke Mateo’s heart. Esperanza splinted the broken leg with pieces of wood and bandages. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Then she covered the wolf with more blankets to keep her warm. “She needs to eat,” she said, “but I don’t know if she’ll be able to.” Mateo brought some chicken broth that his grandmother had made the day before.
They warmed it up and very carefully, using a spoon, got the she-wolf to drink a little. Not much, but some. “It’s all we can do for now,” Esperanza said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “The rest is up to her.” Mateo sat beside the she-wolf and gently stroked her head. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.” The she-wolf opened one eye and looked at him. And in that moment, Mateo felt something strange, a connection, as if she understood every word, as if she believed him.
The first few days were the hardest. The she-wolf barely ate. Her body was so weak it seemed any moment could be her last. Esperanza and Mateo took turns caring for her, giving her water with a syringe, cleaning her wounds, changing her bandages. The boy missed school; he couldn’t leave her. His grandmother didn’t scold him. She knew some lessons aren’t learned from books. On the third night, the she-wolf worsened. Her breathing became erratic. Her body trembled violently.
