Rodger That: A Grizzly Experience

(Roger that is a phrase used by the military and pilots to confirm communications, in this case, it’s between me and my fans.).

Have you ever noticed that, somehow when you need it most, help arrives? Perhaps we are prepared. Maybe by surrounding ourselves with those we can trust. Often in our moment of need, or outright terror, we don’t recognize it, especially if that help isn’t even human.

I raised my family to be adventurous and fiercely independent. From the time they were infants my children had a constant canine companion, and somehow just the right one for the moment. One of our favorites was Red, a full-size Collie, and the perfect dog to watch over the flock especially while we were at our wilderness log cabin. 

The afternoon temperature was in the low 80’s, uncommon for Alaska. Out in the open, where a steady breeze kept the mosquitos at bay it was beautiful, the kind of afternoon that my daughter cherished. While she stretched out on a bench around our fire-pit, reading, her brother and I were working on a project inside the cabin. 

Someone had forgotten to close the door to the screened porch. Red, tired of the mosquitos that swarmed him on the deck, scratched on the heavy door to join us away from the bugs. I let him in, smiling, seeing my middle school daughter completely lost in her book; then closed the porch and cabin door. As Red curled up for a nap, I went back to the project.

An hour later Red exploded from a deep sleep, barking and spinning until, nose pointing toward the front of the cabin, he threw himself against the door. “Hold on,” I offered, “we’re almost finished here.” But Red wasn’t about to ‘hold on.’ He pounded on the door, barking insanely. 

“Okay,” I said, pushing him back long enough to get the door open. Before I could open the screened door, Red launched himself at it, ripping the top hinge free. I opened the latch and he literally ripped the door from my hand as he exploded by me. In four or five leaps he covered the thirty yards to my daughter and launched himself over both bench and girl, barking wildly.

A five-year-old Grizzly Bear stood twenty feet from her. As the bear rose up on his hind legs, Red smashed into the bear’s chest at full speed, cartwheeling the animal. In seconds Red was ripping at ears, then tail, then nose. Every time the bear would turn to face him, the dog would spin past him to tear at a new target. We watched, amazed as that 70-pound dog got that 500-pound bear spinning in circles and then the bear took off on a dead run, the dog at his heels. 

The problem for the bear was a steep bluff in the direction he was running, and the last we saw of him was when he went airborne, tumbling end over end down the bluff. Red stopped to watch, (his mouth proudly full of bear hair), as did the rest of us, then turned, duty fulfilled, and walked calmly back up the steps and into the cabin. I took a minute to calm my daughter before we followed. In less than two minutes from the bear encounter, Red was already asleep. Like I said, the perfect dog for the times, always watching over his flock even while sleeping.