A couple of Wolves and a Monkey's paw

Sep 28, 2025

So here is the good news. As you're sitting reading this, it means The Rapture didn't happen last week.

According to some South African Evangelicals, the end of the world was absolutely, definitely supposed to happen on Tuesday (which makes sense because, like I always say, all the worst things do happen on a Tuesday). And if not, then the world would definitely, absolutely definitely, end on Wednesday.

But it seems the South African Rapture guy who claimed to have been visited by Jesus in a dream, might just have been visited by some bearded guy in flip-flops having a laugh. Which is, of course, a great relief to us all.

I read a post this week (Apologies fabulous poster. I tried to look you up but couldn’t find you.) which read something along the lines of “The Rapture is supposedly going to happen this week. I don't expect it will. But even if it does, it still won't be the weirdest thing that's happened this year.”

So I’ve been thinking about the two wolves story this week, because what else do you do during Rapturey Season? If you don’t know the story of the two wolves, then here it is.

An old Cherokee Indian chief was teaching his grandson about life.

“A fight between two wolves is going on inside me,” he said, “One is full of rage, greed, self-pity, and false pride. The other is full of joy, love, gratitude, and faith. And I am not alone for this same fight is going on inside every person on earth.”

And the grandson asks, “Oh no. What wolf will win?”

And the old man smiles, wisely, and says, “The one that is fed.”

Ah, the good old Cherokees. Full of wisdom and helpful tips. You won’t catch them droning on and on about the end of the world. Not when they can help you handle internal battles. Though if I'm going to be nitpicky, Cherokee Nation, maybe it could be an old grandmother talking to her granddaughter occasionally, rather than it always being wise old guys? No offense meant, but this idea that men are full of wisdom is clearly not reflected in current global political affairs.

Anyway, you can probably tell by the way that I'm beating about the bush this week that I'm struggling to write a Note. Not because I don't have anything to write about - I totally do. But it's one of those stories where it could easily look like whining or shaming, and I don't want to do either of those things. And yet, it's also entirely a story that's absorbed us here in Tweddley Manor over the past couple of months, so if I don't tell it, I'll be dancing around it, and whatever else I write will sound weird.

So buckle up. Spoiler alert: at no point in this story is there a Rapture.

Mark and I have been building a part of our business since February called Fish & Bear. It's quite hard to describe, but possibly the best description is that it's a social event where people - often complete strangers - come and tell stories. And nobody knows what stories they're going to tell.

It's been a ride. We’ve heard some fantastic and extraordinary stories, and it's built up its own little tribe. So many people who come, I'm happy to now call friends. And I'm not the only one. Great friendships have been made. A community has been built. The Fish & Bear network has felt like the best kind of antidote to the current chaos of the world.

Now, like everything (apart from maybe the Rapture), it doesn't take place in a vacuum. We have several venues, all of which have different management systems. Each of these venues has its own family unit, so when you use a venue, it is a bit like going into another family's house. You have to respect their rules. And I like that. It feels like being part of something.

Anyway, one of these venues I nicknamed the Two Wolves, because there seemed to be two people running the show. One - a sweet, friendly guy who was thoughtful and hugely encouraging, and two - a younger pup who seemed to wield the power, but was completely disinclined to talk.

Now, if you think this is one of those stories like a Hallmark movie where the young wolf gets to know us, and he loses all that Mr Darcy-esque coolness, and becomes a warm, loving person whose noble intentions were well-meaning all along, then you’ve been overdoing the historical romance genre.

For as time progressed, the older wolf became all the more generous, supportive, and kind, taking part in all the events and loving it, the younger pup became twice as difficult.

There was the wandering through the event, the storming in and out slamming doors. There was the turning up to do the event and finding Pup has made the space a live music venue, and there are three heavy rock bands booked to play back to back through the wall next door.

There's the constant lack of communication. The reluctance to speak or even make eye contact with me or Mark. The inability to respond to texts, or messages.

And so at Fish & Bear, though there were plenty of stories being told in the room, the story of discontent from the Young Pup was definitely the loudest.

I know. Even as I write this, I know, Mark and I should literally have read the room and just buggered off. But there was the other wolf, you see. The kind and gentle one, who turned up every week, and couldn't have been more supportive. Calmly doing his best to repair whatever next sabotage the Young Pup was doing. And our business was growing, and the people who turned up week after week were magic.

After the live music scenario, we moved days so we could speak without the accompaniment of bass and drums. In order to stop the slamming of the door demonstrations, Kind-Wolf fitted a new anti-slam mechanism on the door. Mark met with both wolves, and seemingly, a peace treaty was made. Of a kind.

The only real constant was that we never quite knew what we were turning up to. One night when we were heading to the venue, I said to Mark that I wouldn't be at all surprised if, when we arrived there, it was shuttered up and they locked us out. And he laughed out loud, saying it wouldn't surprise him either. It was mental.

And as the weeks went on, I started trying to anticipate it, reckoning that if I was prepared, I could do damage control. Then I got mad with myself, realizing that a disproportionate amount of my time was being spent thinking about someone I don't even like, and who clearly hates me. It was exhausting because, as with all things, it’s never the disappointment that gets you, it’s the hope: the hope that someone might change, the hope that something, despite all the evidence to the contrary, might work out. And, too often, my mind would wander into the forest of “maybe it would get better if…”

Because the room we'd built was magic, and the people who were coming each week were lovely, and then there was the older wolf who had always been nothing but kind.

After months of this ridiculous overthinking, Mark and I agreed that we had to move on. We have other spaces, and there's not such a shortage of unpleasantness in the world that when you stumble on a pile, you have to hold on to it. We agreed we’d let go. The question was when.

On Thursday, the matter was taken out of our hands. Mark got a text from the Young Pup ( hoorah!) to tell us with immediate effect we were no longer welcome at the venue (uhm boo or hoorah - I've not made up my mind). The matter was sorted.

When Mark collected our stuff from the venue on Friday, Kind Wolf explained that Young Pup’s mother calls him ‘The Grim Reaper’ as once he feels he’s been disrespected he cuts all ties. And because Mark said he could not meet when Pup said he was available to meet, that was disrespect. Our ties have been irrevocably cut.

I found myself thinking that if only Young Pup had been willing to have a conversation with me, he'd have known I'd been absolutely disrespecting him in much more flagrant ways for months, and this affair could have been over a lot sooner.

Lachlan was a little sad about it all. He periodically works at that particular Fish & Bear, and he, like us, is very fond of the Kind Wolf.

Fergus, for his part, said we’d been handed ‘a monkey’s paw,’ which, when I looked blank, he explained is a metaphor for getting what you want, but even though you get it, it still doesn't feel good.

I thought that was a really good description and asked him if it was connected in any way to the two wolves story. He said he didn’t think so, and we both agreed that too many animals are used in metaphors. Then we decided we should shut our faces, considering our events are called Fish and Bear.

Later this week, I was downloading all of it to an Asian friend of mine, and as she sipped tea, I happened to say, “Even though he’d never had a conversation with me ever, just my existence clearly disturbed him. Can you imagine?” She laughed so much, she nearly spat tea through her nose, and sarcastically said that she had no idea what that felt like to be judged for no reason, and I laughed at myself for being a complete jerk.

So here is what I’ve learned this week: Sometimes you might find yourself caught between two wolves, and one of them is lovely and the other one is …uhm.. different from lovely. And you don’t want to let them too far into your head, because you’ll find yourself trying to find comfort for the lovely one, and working out how to navigate your way around the …uhm…different from lovely one. And it’s not a good idea to do that because, aside from the fact that wolves are generally outdoor creatures, it’s really not your business to place yourself in the middle of their fight.

If you do, I can tell you, you might just get yourself “a monkey’s paw,” which, to be honest, is not as much fun as it sounds.

Mostly what I learned this week though, was that despite how much it was predicted, it was not the end of the world. And, it really, really wasn’t.

PS: If you post a wee click on the heart emoji to like it, somewhere across the world two wolves agree to make friends and lovely wee monkeys get to keep all of their paws - thats complete bulshit obviously, but it wont have do wonders for my algorithm.

P. P. S: If you enjoy talking/listening/stories/ random facts, come and join me and Mr Tweddle at Fish and Bear.

Fishandbear.net