Westland Giftware Call of the Wolf Mexican Wolf # 14117 Figurine 2005 *RARE* For Sale

Westland Giftware Call of the Wolf Mexican Wolf # 14117 Figurine 2005 *RARE*
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Westland Giftware Call of the Wolf Mexican Wolf # 14117 Figurine 2005 *RARE*:

Luisa Hernandez walked slowly down the trail coming down from Cerro del Aguila late in the afternoon as the sun was sliding down in the western sky. She had chosen an area free of the few hikers that came there sometimes as she wished to be alone with her thoughts. She was not alone though. She peered into the basinet she carried at her infant son and smiled sadly. “Your Papa loved you, you know” she whispered, “He would have loved to watch you grow up, Hijo". Her late husband had enjoyed coming here despite the bugs and she had learned to tolerate it and even enjoy it on nice days, but it was a favored place of Miguel's. He had looked forward to family outings with his first child; “First of many!” he would say while playfully making a grab at her. “Let me get this one born first" she would always reply. “I can only do one at a time!” Then came the accident. Two men from his work had knocked on her door one afternoon. She knew as soon as she opened it that Miguel would never return to her even before she saw the priest they had brought with them. An explosion and fire had taken her love away in the blink of an eye. A flash of red-orange and all their hopes and dreams were gone.

It could have been worse, she supposed. The man working beside him had lived. For three whole days. She shuddered and crossed herself. It had been a very bad way to go. Her daily prayers for Miguel's safety had gone unanswered.

Prayers. The thought of praying made her think of her great-grandmother and smile. The old woman had been bed ridden since before Luisa was born but her old eyes were bright and her mind sharp as she spun tales of the old days for her great-granddaughter. Tales of heroes and villains, tales of simple farmers, tales of love and heartbreak; but the stories she loved most were the ones her grandmother whispered to her when her mother wasn’t around. Tales of the old days before the Spanish and their Shepherd God came. Tales of the Old Ones who were here before men of any nation came. She still thought of those stories often, though her great-grandmother had been gone for many years. Her great-grandmother’s memory whispered the old stories into her ear the rest of the trip down to her car.


Odd. Luisa narrowed her eyes at the battered old truck parked near her car. Very few people ever came this way. As she neared her own car, she fished the remote out of her bag to unlock it.

“Buenas tardes, Señorita" said a scruffy looking man who stepped out of the shadows near her car. “I think we must ask you for your purse and your car.” She saw three more men moving out of the brush to surround her. “And perhaps something to make the time go by faster, yes?” the man said mockingly. She turned to run but one of the other men was blocking her way with a drawn pistol. “Not very friendly, are you?” he grinned showing several missing teeth “Ah, well.” and fired. “Hey!” said one of the other men “We were going to have some fun first!”

Luisa dropped the bassinet and looked down in shock. There was a spreading red stain in the front of her blouse with her heart's blood flowing from a hole in the center of it. “I thought it would hurt more” she thought then she realized how fast it was getting dark and understood that it would never hurt more.

“Luisa, come with me". Her great-grandmother was smiling at her and reached out her hand. Luisa looked down at the crying child at her feet and pulled back from her grandmother. The old woman looked at her then the child and nodded. “Yes".

With her last strength Luisa cupped her hand and caught the blood pouring from her heart and cast it on the sandy ground. With her last breath she whispered “Huitzilopochtli. Protect. Avenge”.

Her grandmother reached out her hand again. This time, Luisa took it.


The old man took another swallow of Tequila and decided that his kidneys and bladder could do with a break. He had to pee more often than he used to, but then again, he didn’t need diapers yet either, so there was that. He opened the door and stepped out to relieve himself under the light of the moon. He didn’t care if the neighbors saw him, he reckoned he was too old and too drunk to care about much of anything.

A pale flicker of movement caught his eye. Something was moving in the night. Something that looked very much like a wolf. A very large wolf. It looked like wolf was carrying…a child?...in its mouth. The old man opened his mouth to yell for help, to save the child when the wolf stopped and gently lay the bundled child on the ground. Then it slowly turned it’s head to stare at the old man. The old man's mouth slowly closed and a chill cut to his bones. He stood as straight as his old bones would allow and inclined his head in a gesture of respect. The wolf regarded him for a moment then nodded in return, picked up the child and melted into the night. The now very sober old man went back into his house and locked the door. He then carefully corked his bottle and put it back in the cabinet. Then he lit a candle in front of the framed picture of the Virgin that his wife had insisted on and tried to remember any of the prayers the Holy Fathers had tried to teach him as a boy.


Something hammered into José Martinez’ front door with a crash fit to wake the dead. It certainly served to wake José, who grabbed his rifle and stepped into the new light of dawn wearing nothing but his hat and his underwear. There was nothing in sight. The soft cry of a baby made him look down. There in the dust lay his grandson and beside him a single large paw print. He picked up the baby and sat on his doorstep rocking back and forth while tears rolled down his aged face.


The first officer to arrive at the crime scene took one look and called for backup and set about securing the scene for the detectives. He had, of course, checked the body of the pretty young woman for a pulse, but she was obviously beyond all help. There was an empty bassinet next to her. There was a car with a child’s car seat nearby and next to that was an old truck. Most of an old truck. It was badly damaged. Parts of it looked … chewed. The ground around it was torn up and there was a great deal of blood, but no bodies were visible. That there were bodies was a certainty. Given the amount of blood present there were likely to be several, but he was more than content to wait for the detectives before he began to look for them. He scratched his head and wondered what had happened here. Then he wondered if he really wanted to know all that badly after all.


On a hill nearby a large stone wolf watched the proceedings intently. The guardians of these new people would not be finding any bodies despite the amount of blood spilled. In fact, the owners of that blood were not…technically…even dead, however much they might wish to be. The underworld of the Old Gods was a quite a bit grimmer than any simple lake of fire. The wolf smiled in satisfaction, placed his head on his front paws and faded into the earth.


The Old Gods, who were here before the Spaniards, came, before the Conquistadors and before the Spanish priests were displaced by the God of those priests. The Old Gods are unconcerned, for this is the way of all things. We, each of us, have our moment in the sun and then the night comes. The Old Gods have not gone away, they only sleep for perhaps their time in the sun will come again. Yes, they only sleep. Some of them sleep lightly. Rousing them is ill advised.

Wolves are thought to represent Huitzilopochtli, Aztec god of war and of the sun. This fine fellow is a resin cast sculpture 8L x 1.5W x 6H in an Aztec (or Mayan, I honestly don’t know) style. You could do worse than to have him guarding your home.

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