Tales from Minnesota

Just so you know what to expect when you pop in, I'll be posting critiques Mon, Wed, and Fri. Tuesdays and Thursdays I'll try to fill in with something interesting. So if I can't think of anything, there won't be a post those days. And I take the weekends off from blogging.

This week, I decided to give a little flavor of northern Minnesota with a couple of brief tales. This first one goes back to my teen years.

We had a big black lab named Chase. He was usually left loose because he was a very good dog and stayed in the yard. We lived in the most populated area on that road--we had one neighbor on either side of us. The opposite side of the road was all woods owned by my uncle, so there wasn't much mischief Chase could get into if he did decided to wander.

The sunlight was just starting to dim one evening when I went outside and saw Chase's black hide on the road near our mailbox. So I called to him. And called again. He didn't budge. He was halfway hidden by the trees lining our driveway, so I couldn't see his head. I was convinced that since he didn't have a good view of me, he thought I couldn't see him, so he was playing stubborn.

I started getting irritated. It wasn't like my dog not to listen. "Chase! Come on! Come here, Chase." He wouldn't move, so I started walking down our driveway and called again, angrier. This time he did move . . . a couple of slow steps away from me.

Boy was I going to let him have it! I filled my lungs to holler at him when a black streak ran at me from around the corner of the garage behind me. It was Chase, wagging his tail with a "what are we playing" tone. The air left my lungs. My eyes darted to the mailbox. The black hide was was still there, about 20 feet away. Only now I could see that it was bigger than a dog. Much fatter. Shaggy.

I'd been calling a black bear. I'm standing 20 feet from a black bear!

Tingles descended my limbs and I froze. Then I turned around, told Chase to heel, and stiffly walked away. I shut the dog in the garage and went into the house, where I told my dad he'd almost had one more pet, or one less daughter.

Either option was as likely (not very). I can't figure it out. I was walking toward a bear and yelling angrily. Logic says the bear should have run away. I'm glad the real Chase appeared before I found out how close it would have let me get.