You're home now, Bear
Opinion from the doghouse
Putnam Pit opinion editor
C. 1997 The Putnam Pit
On the farm where I live there is a small knoll where my brother Bear
and I like to play. From the vantage point there we are able to keep watch
over all the goings on at our place. Our knoll is a spot where we feel
secure and protected, where it seems that we can see all and hear all.
On warm sunny days when we are feeling lazy, Bear and I like to stretch
out on our knoll and let the sunshine soothe us. On days when we are feeling
frisky we enjoy wrestling and chasing one another across the thick green
grass that carpets our knoll.
This knoll of ours is a place of dreams. It is a place where we have planned days of exploration
and relived days of adventure. Our knoll is a special place where we know things are going to be
okay and where we can always be together.
Last Thursday I
waited for Bear at the knoll. Afternoon turned into evening and still I
watched and waited. In my loneliness I noticed how strangely cold and silent
the knoll had become. I missed Bear. This was the first time in my
life my that he was not standing close beside me. I raised my ears and listened intently
to each faint new sound. I expected that at any moment Bear would rush in and pounce
upon me, wrestle me to the ground, and take off expecting me to chase after him.
It was almost dark when my human arrived home. I greeted him alone. He called for Bear but he
did not answer. I sensed his concern for Bear. He was up many
times that night checking to see if Bear had returned home. Late into the night
I heard my human come out on the porch and call for Bear.
The next day my human and I went into the fields and searched the entire farm with a prayer and a hope that we would find
At the center of that sunny knoll where Bear and I loved to play there is an especially beautiful spot
where tiny purple wildflowers stretch to peek above lush green grass and a wild
rose grows. In that peaceful spot, my human, Cheyenne (my mom), and I laid
Big Barney Bear, my gentle brother, to rest.
A large gray stone from the field where Bear and I loved to roam serves as his headstone. My human
planted flowers for Bear and I left my paw print in the fresh dirt. Nearby daylilies
will soon produce big orange blossoms that will be with Bear throughout
the summer. No doubt the wild rose will be at its finest this season.
You are home now
Bear. Every day I'll lay beside you here on our knoll. You and I will continue to keep watch
over all the goings on at our place. This is our special place where things
are going to be okay and where we can always be together.
I love you Bear.