Blue Moon — Werewolf Tells All
I’m writing this to dispel the many ugly stereotypes about so-called werewolves. Mercenary hacks promote salacious rumors without regard for who gets their tail stepped on. Oh, how they lie. It makes me howl.
Anyone desiring the truth, please read on.
I wish to confirm that what is popularly known as the werewolf actually exists. I prefer the French term Loups-Garous which has a lyrical sound to it, more in keeping with my sense of self.
Yes, we exist. And no, this isn’t a shaggy dog story.
The negative popular image from over-wrought novels and movies is exaggerated beyond any connection to factual reality.
Okay, I’ll admit to what might be called excessive body hair. Is that a crime? My girlfriend, Lupe, faithfully takes me to the groomer every twenty-eight days. We sing the old favorite, ‘Wooly Bully’ en route.
Let me be clear. I am not prone to bouts of lycanthropy. I have no illusions of turning into an animal. Though I admit, some mornings when looking into the mirror, I wish it were so. Luckily I am not a shedder.
When she picks me up from the groomer, her favorite term for me is ‘cute’. You think those are the sentiments of a woman paralyzed with fear? Those shrieks you hear are joyful, not of…
