The Other
Wolf
by Betsy Ochester
illustrated by Virginia Allyn
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Once upon a time, in a small cottage in the middle of the deep, dark woods, lived a family of wolves. One morning, the youngest wolf, Daisy, was minding her own business when Grandma Wolf announced, out of nowhere, “Today, you need fresh air. You will go out on the prowl with your brother.”
“On the prowl?” Daisy groaned. “That’s so, like, last fairy tale.” “Don’t argue with me,” Grandma said, shaking her head. “It’s not healthy for a wolf to spend all day reading and writing in notebooks. It’s time you learned to be like your brother.”
Daisy sighed. “But he’s such a bag of wind,” she argued. “Exactly!” her grandma replied, proudly. Now, Daisy’s brother, Guster, was a Big Bad Wolf. He prided himself on being daring and fearless—and having the strongest blowing power in all the woods. Every morning, without fail, Guster practiced his huffing and puffing. And every morning, Daisy tried to ignore him. Daisy just wasn’t interested in all that old wolf stuff. For one thing, she was a vegetarian—she never ate meat, not even pigs. For another, she hated to go prowling. It was kind of mean and boring.
When Daisy grew up, she didn’t want to be a Big Bad Wolf. Instead, she wanted to be a scientist and help protect the planet. When she went for a walk in the forest, she didn’t prowl at all—she just looked and observed everything she could. And being a member of the Big Bad Wolf family, of course she was especially interested in the wind. She observed the way the wind affected birds as they flew. She watched the way they used the wind to soar higher. She studied the way the trees and other plants grew and the way they bent and moved in the wind.
She made notes on the way the wind blew the clouds across the sky, and, most of all, she recorded the regular patterns the wind followed every day.
Daisy had an idea about the wind, something really important, and she wanted to go out and study it more, but there was no point in arguing with Grandma Wolf. “Daisy,” she said sternly, “you go with your brother or I’ll huff and puff and…” “Okay, okay,” Daisy said. “I get it.”
So that morning, after breakfast, Daisy followed Guster as he went out prowling in the forest. “You’re not doing it right,” Guster said as he snuck from tree to tree. “You have to kind of slink and lurk at the same time.” “Why don’t you show me again?” Daisy suggested. She was hoping that after enough prowling and lurking, Guster would get tired and want to go home. Then she could go back to studying the wind. With Daisy following behind, Guster slunk and lurked and prowled until they came to a clearing in the forest. There sat a neat little house made of straw. Right away Guster’s stomach started growling so loud that Daisy could hear it. “There’s a pig in there!” he said, in a very loud whisper. “I can smell him.” “Yeah? So?” Daisy replied. She knew what Guster was going to do next, but she was hoping she could persuade him otherwise. “So we have to get him!” Guster said, and he charged right up to the door and shouted, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!” The pig, who had been watching from the window, yelled back, “Not by the hair on my chinny chin-chin!”
Guster laughed. “The old chinny-chin-chin trick,” he said. “Watch this, Sis!” He quickly turned back to the house. “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in!” he declared. “That’s silly,” Daisy said. “There are better uses for wind.” But Guster was already taking a deep breath.
Now, Daisy knew that before he could huff and puff, Guster always shut his eyes. So just as he was about to let loose, she tapped Guster on the shoulder. Guster turned to see what had tapped him. His huffing and puffing breath exploded from his cheeks—and blew a nearby tree flat to the ground! “What did you do that for?” he complained. “Do what?” Daisy said, looking very innocent. “Tap me on the shoulder!” Guster growled. “That’s crazy,” Daisy replied. “I didn’t tap you.” But while she was saying it, she was making notes in her notebook.
“You did so!” Guster insisted. “Did not!” Daisy said.
“See, it’s not even locked,” Daisy said.
“Did so!” Guster repeated. Meanwhile, the little pig had run away.
“Yeah, but you tapped me,” Guster whined.
Guster stopped arguing and walked to the front door of the house of straw. He tried the handle and the door opened.
“Oh, don’t be such a big baby,” Daisy said. “Let’s go prowling some more.” “Okay,” Guster nodded. “And don’t forget the lurking.”
So Daisy skipped alongside her angry brother as they continued into the forest. Soon they came to a second clearing, and in this one was a neat little house made of sticks. Guster stopped, sniffed the air and rubbed his stomach. “I smell two pigs!” he said. “Yeah? So?” Daisy replied. He charged to the door of the stick house and shouted, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!” Inside there were indeed two little pigs—the first little pig from the house of straw had run over to warn his brother in the house of sticks. Now the second little pig yelled out the window, “Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” “Not again,” Daisy said. “Hey, Guster, did you ever think of doing something, like, useful with your breath?” Guster gave her an angry look. “Don’t interrupt,” he said.
Guster turned back to the house. “Where was I?” he wondered. Then he remembered. “Oh, yeah,” he snarled. “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in!” He took a dee-e-e-e-p breath. Suddenly he stopped. He glanced at Daisy. “No tapping!” he warned. “No tapping,” Daisy agreed. “Promise?” Guster asked. “I promise,” Daisy told him.
So Guster turned back to the house of sticks. He took another dee-e-e-ep breath. And he huffed. And he puffed. And he started to let loose— “Bumblebee!” screamed Daisy. She knew her brother was deathly afraid of bee stings. With a look of fear on his face, Guster whipped his head around. His huge breath missed the house of sticks. All it did was kick up a huge, swirling dust storm.
“Where’s the bee?” Guster cried. “Is it on me? Do you see it?” “No, it must have flown away,” Daisy said. “Are you sure?” Guster fretted, turning this way and that, looking for the imaginary bee. “I don’t want to get stung.” “Don’t worry,” Daisy said, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure you’re not going to get stung.” Of course, she knew there was no bee. As the dust settled, Daisy and Guster saw the two little pigs running away as fast as they could.
“They got away!” Guster moaned. “And I’m so hungry. I hate bees!” “Yeah, that was really bad luck,” Daisy said. “But we can still prowl some more.” “OK,” Guster grumbled. “I guess so. But watch out for bees!” “I will,” Daisy promised. She was tired of fooling Guster, but it was the only way to save those pigs.
Guster started prowling and lurking again, but his heart wasn’t in it. “This is absurd!” he snapped at Daisy. “I never had so much trouble prowling before.” “Well, don’t feel bad,” Daisy said. “These things happen.” Secretly she was happy. Maybe Guster was finally getting tired and would turn around and go home. But just then, they came to a third clearing in the woods, and there stood a third little house. This one was made entirely of bricks. “Oh, boy!” Guster shouted. “I smell three pigs in that house.” He turned to Daisy. “You stay here,” he said, “while I huff and puff and blow that house down.” Daisy looked at the house made of bricks. It looked very strong. “You’re going to blow down that house?” she asked her brother. “You bet!” Guster declared. “This I’ve got to see,” Daisy said, and she sat down on the grass to watch. Guster ran right up to the door of the house. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!” he spit out, hopping madly from foot to foot. “Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” came the reply. Not wasting any more time with words, Guster took an enormous, a tremendous, a magnificent breath. And he huffed his biggest huffs. And he puffed his biggest puffs. And he let loose.
The hedges, the trees, the mailbox—everything was blown flatter than the flattest pancake. But the brick house stood strong, just as Daisy knew it would. “Well, you tried your best,” she said to Guster as she stood up. “No one can ask for more than that. I guess it’s time to head home.”
But Guster shook his head angrily. His stomach was growling louder than ever. He wasn’t finished. He was famished. And he was feeling bigger and badder and madder than ever.
“If you won’t invite me in the front door, I will invite myself down your chimney,” Guster screeched at the house. He was quaking with anger. Before Daisy could stop him, Guster launched himself at the side of the house. The amazed little pigs watched from the window as Guster began to climb up, digging his toes in between the bricks to cling to the side. Daisy ran up to the house, and she managed to peek in one of the windows. The three little pigs inside had wasted no time. They’d lit a roaring fire in the fireplace and placed a cauldron full of water over it. If her brother got down the chimney, he was going to drop right into the pot. This was getting serious!
Well, Guster might be a Big, Bad, Wolf, but he was still her brother. Daisy wasn’t going to let the pigs make him into soup. But she wasn’t going to let Guster eat the pigs, either. He was halfway up the side of the house by now. She listened to his grunts of exertion as he climbed the side of the house, and suddenly she got an idea. Quickly she took a paper out of her backpack, wrote a note and slipped it under the little pigs’ door. “RUN! The Big Bad Wolf has ordered a bulldozer to flatten your house!” After reading the note, the three little pigs yanked open their back door and ran into the forest. They hid in a stand of tall trees and watched as Daisy rushed into the house. Meanwhile Guster was on the roof.
“Watch out, little pigs!” he shouted down the chimney. “I’m coming to get you!” “Uh, notice anything?” Daisy muttered when she heard that. “Like smoke, fire?” But Guster was too hungry to notice anything. He climbed into the chimney.
In a flash, Daisy doused the fire with water. She grabbed a bag of ice out of the pig’s freezer and dumped it into the pot. By the time her brother fell down the chimney—plop!—into the cauldron, the water was as lukewarm as a baby’s bathtub. “Wha-a-a. . ?” he sputtered. “You, dear brother, were almost a meal for those three pigs!” Daisy told him. The astonished Guster blinked. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It was all he could do not to start blubbering and slubbering. His sister had saved his life! He was very grateful. “Oh, Sis,” he whimpered. “You saved my life! How can I ever repay you? “Hmm,” Daisy said. “I have a few ideas.”
The three little pigs lived happily ever after in the sturdy brick house. And they got a deep discount on their energy bills from Daisy for all the trouble caused by her brother. None of them ever saw a Big Bad Wolf again. Oh, they saw Guster plenty, but he wasn’t a Big Bad Wolf anymore.
So that is how Guster joined Daisy in her new business—Big Bad Wind Energy. He even had a title as Vice President and Biggest Baddest Wind Generator. The business was a roaring success across the deep, dark woods. It supplied so much electricity that the woods weren’t so dark anymore. Daisy felt prouder than ever.
And Daisy? She still plans to be a scientist. And she never had to go prowling again.
Daisyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s grandma wants her to stop reading and drawing and thinking and be more like her brother Guster, a Big Bad Wolf. But Daisy has other ideas. She thinks there might be a better way to use all that huffing and puffing instead of blowing houses down. Find out what happens when the Three Little Pigs meet The Other Wolf.
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