The Onion Bagel is a satirical column for The Statesman.
Entry #1: Monday, April 21, 2025 – The Disappearance
It is with faux solemnity and very real confusion that I must record a dark moment in our campus history: the sudden and mysterious disappearance of the Wolfie statue.
For six glorious months, the Wolfie statue stood tall in the Academic Mall — a beacon of Seawolf pride, a selfie destination, a six-foot-tall reminder that somehow, against all odds, we were getting through it. Then, like a bad group project partner, he left us a vague message saying he’d “be back soon” to add his slides to the group presentation — which is basically campus-speak for “good luck, you’re on your own.”
I last saw him between the Psychology A building and the Frank Melville Jr. Memorial Library on Sunday, April 20. By Monday morning, the spot was empty, safe for a growing mountain of Red Zone merch, iced coffees, candles and what I swear was a furry tail someone left behind.
Rumors have been feral. Some say he’s off getting repairs. Others whisper that he’s on a Mormon mission trip in Argentina. A few bold souls insist he was pulled into witness protection after discovering what really lurks at the bottom of Roth Pond.
The timing is … suspicious. He vanished the day after Easter. Do I believe in coincidences? Sure. Do I believe this wasn’t one of them? Absolutely not. One kid in the library muttered, “If he shows up on the third day, I’m transferring.” I laughed, but not really.
The Wolfie statue, designed as a “lasting symbol of Seawolf pride, tradition and unity,” had barely been around for longer than a semester. Six months. That’s not even a full-term pregnancy. Somehow, campus construction managed to perform an abortion after giving birth.
With graduation creeping closer, the thought of taking senior photos without him has been heartbreaking. I know I’m not graduating this year, but what’s wrong with a little overthinking?! Like, Wolfie is totally coming … right?
In the meantime, I keep walking past the empty spot like a Victorian widow in mourning — clutching my iced matcha latte and waiting for a ghost that might never return.
Entry #2: Thursday, April 24, 2025 – The Resurrection
HE’S BACK.
I don’t even know how else to say it — the Wolfie statue has returned!
I walked past the Psychology A building this morning with my usual “maybe today” sigh … and there he was. Standing tall. Gleaming. Smug, almost, like he knew the chaos he left behind.
Someone had already tied a graduation cap to his ear. Another taped a handwritten sign to the bench that read, simply, “HE IS RISEN.”
No official word yet on where he went or how he disappeared. Maybe he got recruited into a secret society. Maybe he just needed a mental health day. Because, honestly, same here.
But honestly, who cares? He’s back. And I’m grabbing my (early) senior photos with him faster than artist Katy Perry was in space.
Rest easy, Wolfie statue. Or, you know, stand tall and suspiciously photogenic. Just please, no more disappearing acts. My heart can’t take it.
