I coveted that dog. Little Bear was my kind of dog. My heart said she’d be a great companion, and it was plain that she could very nearly look a person in the eye. That is always impressive. At some point I offered, “If ever the need arises, I’ll take her. I’d give her a good home.” A year later, I got the chance and made good on my offer. Bear had a new home at our place. The first thing was to put together a Bear sized doghouse. The base was two shipping pallets, enclosed on three sides, with a good roof, and the whole cupped a full bale of oat straw for bedding. One fresh beef bone “hidden” where she could “find” it, and she felt right at home. We had to chain her for a few days while my neighbor got himself moved. During this time, I set out to give her a good currying, as a kind of “get acquainted” activity. Bear’s hair was naturally oily and very water resistant. The major guard hairs were six to eight inches long and deep black with highlights. She glistened. Under this was a thick coat of very fine fur, reddish brown to dark gray, very dense and with great heat retention qualities. She constantly carried the equivalent of several inches of high quality Mongolian felt next to her skin. Bear was never cold. She was at her happiest with a cloudy, foggy day of rain, and just ecstatic when it snowed. All this hair in Winter was glorious. In Spring, and Summer, it became a mess. The undercoat loosened and was unable to drop away cleanly. It matted into thick clumps and balls that were unsightly. I prepared my self with heavy duty currying combs and brushes. Bear loved the attention. Currying her was going to be more than a one-day job. Some mats and balls and snarls simply had to be cut out. Bear mostly just lay there quietly, or sat and kept an eye on things as I worked. She had expressive eyes and a “face” that could show happiness or distress. She could laugh with just an inch of that voluminous tongue showing. One time I’d gotten too rough, and pulled too hard at too many snarls in too short of an interval. In spite of a strong streak of patience, Bear had had enough. Bear turned her head, opened that huge, soft mouth that could crush cattle bones, and gently closed it around my hand with the comb. Her teeth barely dented my skin, but those eyes of hers looked straight into mine. It did not take telepathy to “get” her message. “I can hurt too, buster.” One year I gave up the good fight with the undercoat, and just sheared her like a sheep. She looked like a big headed and big footed greyhound. She loved it. Bear had a fault. It was really an obsession. It was all about porcupines. She didn’t like them. The porcupines didn’t care. They were well armed, and did what came naturally to porcupines. Which is, when they have stripped all the edible bark from one tree, they come to ground and walk over to the next tree. They don’t like to have obstacles, or loud noises, around when they are most vulnerable, on the forest floor. At some point in her puppy adventures in the woods, a porcupine had slapped her on the nose, and she thought them to be the most unmannerly of beasts. She also wanted some pay back for the pain of that first experience. The first time this happened after Bear came to live at my house, I removed forty quills from her nose, and snout with my trusty cholla cactus pliers. I also got her a prescription to help fight off the infections that follow after that many deep skin and flesh punctures. A couple of months later, she came home one evening with a much heavier collection of quills. I removed over a hundred quills. I worked on her until the constant pain got to be too much for her to continue to endure without fighting to get away from the pliers. This required a trip to the vet and anesthesia. At a dollar a quill, I had a $68 bill. The recovery this time was longer. Bear had to be chained for a considerable period to confine her to the yard and keep her away from the deadly quills of the porcupines. Bear wanted Round Three. For two weeks afterward, a careful touch revealed still more quills of varying sizes continuing to work their way through and out of her flesh. If they could be forced to the skin surface where my pliers could grab hold, one more source of infection would be eliminated. Bear was a very sick dog despite medications. Luckily no quills had pierced her eyes, but they had filled her snout, nose, lips, gums, and tongue. She had likely gone in for a bite, and gotten a real mouthful. We both had a long, painful, miserable experience. Unfortunately, Bear didn’t learn. Her focus continued to be on pay back. Round Three was inevitable. She could live out her life on a heavy chain, or in a concrete and chain-link kennel. I was not yet willing to keep this big dog, that loved to roam the woods and ponds so much, confined to a length of heavy chain. When she was again healthy, again she came home even more heavily forested with quills than ever. It was horrible to see, and much more horrible for her. She had really wanted to get in her licks, and had, but so had the porcupine. This time it looked like it had been a big porky. She hadn’t learned a lesson. I did what I could, but back to the vet had to be quicker. She was in considerable pain. The vet said, “This one could kill her. If one quill migrates to a vital spot before her immune system can “eat” it, she’ll die.” Bear’s bill for porcupine skewers this time was over $250. Her recovery was very long. Despite the medications, her system had become less tolerant to the invasion of foreign material, the quills, and she was sick for a long time. I had to constantly keep her on the chain. This also likely did not help such a free spirited animal. Her health never did return to “normal”. A year later Bear came down with a massively debilitating viral infection that caused her to have to be put down.
(c) Copyright 2006: George Wallace recently published a book on religion which lashes out at nearly all of the comfortable ideas about God, the trappings of organized religion, and the priesthood. His pithy comments and suggestions for a return to a God-centered personal religion will interest everyone. This article may be freely reprinted so long as all copyright attributions, and the full content of this resource box are included. www.OhGodIsThatYou.com
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