I think everyone should have a creative partner: someone who engages them in thinking beyond the usual possibilities.

Mine is my stuffed wolf, Kipling.

When I worked with student athletes at NC State, my office was in hallowed Reynolds Coliseum. (Note: I am sure you agree that you must include the word “hallowed” when talking about Reynolds.) I decided one day that I needed a mascot for my office. I started looking in toy stores and museums, trying to find a wolf that would not be too fluffy or soft. I mean, you can’t represent the NC State Wolfpack if you are fluffy and soft, right?

I was about to give up until I went with some friends to the North Carolina Zoo. There on a shelf, by himself, was a wolf that looked like a real wolf, with bristling hair and a penetrating gaze. I bought that wolf immediately and took him to live in my office.

I decided to name him Kipling. It was Rudyard Kipling who wrote these words: “For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.” Perfect. And so Kipling came to be. He lived in Reynolds until I moved to my next position at the university.

I had no idea at the time what role Kipling would come to play in my life.

When you name a stuffed wolf, you give him an identity. When you name a stuffed wolf and then introduce him to your incredibly comedic family, you have created a muse.

Everyone in my family, including my brother’s girlfriend, loves Kipling. They buy him presents. They dress him up in outfits (he even has his own Santa suit) and take his picture.  They ask about him when they call.  They want to know if he’s coming for Thanksgiving. They watch for his picture on Facebook.

But once he started going on vacations with us, “Kipling fever” reached a new level.

Kipling had his picture made in the arms of a Times Square Miss Liberty who turned out to be an overweight guy from New Jersey. He was seen at the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, gazing at Mount Rainier. He ended up in photographs made by Japanese tourists in front of the Lincoln Memorial.  He was cradled in the arms of a Turner Field usher, Henry, while wearing his own Atlanta Braves batting helmet. He posed in front of the Salty Dog Cafe in Hilton Head, wearing his own dog (wolf) bandana.

When I look at Kip, I think “who says creativity has to come in the form of dance, painting, music, or photography? Why can’t creativity come on the form of a stuffed wolf who causes you to think, ‘how can I express my sense of humor through this ‘medium’?”

Yes, you feel a bit nervous when you are creative in such an unusual way. Trust me: when you are pulling a stuffed wolf out of a tote bag, putting a batting helmet on his head, and asking an usher to hold him, you have a moment when you think, “is this person going to think I am a little wacky?”

But isn’t that the risk with any creative expression?