This coming Saturday is Wolfenoot (wolf-uh-noot), a holiday invented in 2018 by a 7-year-old boy in New Zealand. According to the official website, Wolfenoot is
…when the Spirit of the Wolf brings and hides small gifts around the house for everyone.
People who have, have had, or are kind to dogs get better gifts than anyone else. You eat roast meat (because wolves eat meat) and cake decorated like a full moon.
Vegetarians are welcome to observe Wolfenoot; the website notes that the menu is far less important than the kindness, and the moon.
In honor of this perfect holiday, I wanted to share one of my favorite unpublished dog/moon poems, a Greek-chorus–style retelling of the legend of Artemis and Actaeon.
The original tale:
Actaeon was a mighty hunter, a man accustomed to taking whatever he wanted. Artemis was goddess of the hunt—and the moon, and young women. Her ferocity in protecting the vulnerable was known far and wide; no man could impose himself on a maiden and expect to live.
One day, Actaeon was out for a hunt when he heard laughter and splashing. He followed the sound to a forest pool where Artemis and her nymphs were bathing. Actaeon knew the rules full well, but believed that he and his desires superseded sacred law. The hunter crept toward the nymphs, prepared to take his pick.
Artemis saw him first.
It would have been so easy to kill him on the spot. Instead, the goddess decided to show him what it feels like to be hunted. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she transformed the brute into a hulking, clumsy stag.
Then she loosed his own hounds upon him.
To Actaeon
HOUNDS: Delight! Elation!
     To be—at last—permitted
     to be the beasts we ever are!
     Life came to us today, came to us
     as a stag, fleet and sinewy.
     The creature ran, and we, joyous
     did give chase, and Master!
     How the wondrous deer
     did tremble when we caught him!
     We thought then
     your commands would come
     and stem the wild tide
     of our love, but they did not. Beneficence!
     How sweetly we gulped the flesh,
     how merrily we crunched the bones
     of this, our holy completion!
     If only—if only, dear Master!—you
     had been there! You would
     have praised us so.
A Wolfenoot Blessing
May you and your pack be safe.
May you be protected from those would do you harm.
May your howls be cleansing.
May your teeth be sharp.
May your treats be sweet.
You can read last year’s poem and blessing here.
Please let me know if you decide to celebrate. I’ll be making a full moon pie and blowing kisses at every dog I see.
Thanks for reading to the end. I am so, so glad you’re here.
This poem takes me back to my study days! The way you wrote the voice of the chorus offering the perspective of the hounds is pitch perfect. I really enjoyed reading it, even if it is gruesome. But then, the myths always are.
love from me and my mini wolf!