Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Mowgli Moments

As long as I can remember I've loved Rudyard Kipling's story about Mowgli in The Jungle Books.
I've loved reading about the boy adopted by wolves and brought up with the friendly guidance of Bagheera the leopard and Baloo the bear. I've loved reading of how Mowgli scorned clothes and instead roamed the world of the jungle, kin to all who lived within. (With a few notable exceptions.)
Now I have my own little Mowgli.
Whenever possible he's shedding clothes and climbing trees, desperate to be with animals, most particularly frogs and bugs at present. But I'm sure if there was a local wolf pack he'd be desperate to join.
I always dreamt of having my own little Mowgli. But it's possible I didn't forsee how destructive a Mowgli in suburbia might be, the sheer terror of seeing your dear-love dangling by his finger tips from a vast height, or the difficulties of enforcing a no-cane-toads-in-the-bed rule . 
I think wolf mothers must have stronger nerves.

Have you ever had a long held dream and then been (delightfully) perplexed by the reality?

1 comment:

  1. because of the Mowgli stories, even now I have very friendly feelings towards wolves and panthers,(though I'm not going to test if they're reciprocated, except with their very distant small cousins )