Wild One by Lesley Whyte

"Roll up, roll up! See the amazing Wolf Boy! Raised by wolves in deepest Asia, he never saw another human until the age of fourteen! Come on, come on, see him in his natural habitat. Don't be frightened, little girl! He doesn't bite, and if he does, it's not as bad as his family!"

It went on and on for hours. I growled and snarled and paced around the enclosure on my hands and knees, scuffing the skin on the twig-strewn floor. Waves and waves of people crowding into the tent, their cameras flashing in my face, their rubbish glancing off my skin. Freezing in the winter, close and claustrophobic in the summer. Screaming children, sulking teenagers, grumpy parents. The booming voice of Fat Ralph as he drew punters to my raggedy red and gold tent. On and on it went.

To be honest, it was always a relief to get out of there and check my Facebook messages.