THE BALLAD OF TRAPPER JOE

Four times a year he came into town to stock
Up his larder, fill his old truck chock-a-block,
Not many wanted to serve him or even talk,
For he was dirty, he smelt as passed you’d walk.

The only things clean were his hands and his face,
Yet he seemed nice enough, always knew his place,
Out of the blue I asked him home for a meal,
His eyes lit up with gratitude so very real.

He asked shyly if an apple pie I could bake,
Or sweet mince pies or a chocolate cake,
All three would not take that long to cook,
It was worth the work when I saw the look.

He asked if he could bathe before he sat and ate,
He wanted to be clean to eat from a china plate,
We laughed and agreed , he took out clean things
From a bag, we wondered what the result would bring!

He did not look much better but smelt nice and clean,
The only thing different white hairs could be seen
Among the long, jet black beard and neatly braided hair,
He bowed his head in thanks as we said the prayer.

When the meal was finished, all things put away
He was ready to leave. Go on his very lonely way,
He shook our hands with tears in his brown eyes,
He told us we were so kind and also very wise.

It was understood when he came into town
That at our table he could always sit down,
And eat all he could to his hearts content,
Stay with us talking, till home he went.

Sometimes he brought pheasant, or a rabbit or two,
Filled his truck with logs to burn winter through.
But the gift that will stay long in our mind
Tells of a man who was thoughtful and kind.

It happened when we were not expecting him
He came into town as if on some foolish whim,
He came to the door and asked what we could do
For a very small wolf cub, very sick with the flu.


He had found it lying outside his old shack,
It was half dead with a deep cut on his back,
His was not the place where a sick cub could heal,
And knew we were kind, so how did we feel?

He stayed the night and we looked after the cub,
It was fortunate, there was a vet at the pub.
He treated him for free and gave us a word
Of advice, when better, let him run with the herd.

It took many days for improvement to show,
But at last the tiny cub began slowly to grow,
We called him Trapper Joe, who saved hin one day
And brought us much joy when the wolf came to stay.

When Joe’s truck pulled into the drive you’ll hear
Barks of delight from his name sake so dear,
Not once has our pet ever wanted to roam,
But the look in his eye says this is not home.

Let me take him back ti where he does belong,
To keep a healthy wolf in doors is very wrong,
If when I’ve taught him how to hunt, and he stays,
It means he has forgotten all his natural ways.

Then I’ll bring him home to be your family,
For his real life will not want him then you see.
It was with sad heart we saw the truck drive away,
With both Trapper Joe’s but they could not stay

Both of them wild and hard very hard to tame
They belong outdoors in sun, snow and rain,
The wolf learned to hunt and joined a wolf pack
But to Trapper Joe he would sometimes wander back.

When we visit old Joe sometimes we would see
Our wolf come to the clearing with his family
Showing us his thanks in his own special way
We know if we love we would not force him to stay.

Joe lived to be old, and always enjoyed a meal
Of chocolate cake and apple pie that would seal
A friendship that would last past this time on earth,
And taught those that are different can be of great worth.

M Ann Margetson © June 20, 2000
2000/Trapperjoe



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