Maggie and the Big Friendly Bear. (Friendly? I didn’t say that)

Part one.

At long last, I have been granted permission to tell my tale. I should say that my paws do not allow me to type very quickly nor accurately, for that matter. Hence, the need to wait for the Boss’s assistance as I relate my story. Apparently, she is well practised at this job. She resigns herself to reliving my escapades from time to time, however traumatic she finds it.
It seems she has had more important things to write about of late, but what could be more important than my latest escapade?
Humour me!

It all started a short time ago, just before my first birthday I believe. Yes, I have had a birthday. To prove it, here is a photo of me with my sister because we had a party to celebrate being one year old.

But I digress. So, let’s get into the picture. It’s a fairly dry day in March and the Boss decides to take me on a walk to one of my favourite places – the woodland surrounding a large country hotel. We reach this place via our usual route along the back tracks, passing the fields, where I used to be scared of the Shetland ponies, and over the stile. I can laugh at myself now, but those ponies were scary! We cross the main road and enter the woodland.

My lead is removed so that I can enjoy sniffing in the undergrowth without dragging the Boss with me, I think.

At first, I can smell only flowers and rabbits and the odd squirrel but something does not feel quite right. I begin walking more slowly as we head further along the woodland paths. The Boss, unconcerned, saunters on. I slow my pace so that I am walking behind her.

‘It’s ok, Maggie,’ I hear her say as I stop, ‘come along,’

Needless to say, I refuse to move from that spot. The Boss walks on a short way, expecting me to follow. I think she is remembering last week, when a particularly springy springer spaniel dashed out of the hedges and frightened me into running into the trees from where I could better study his apparent desire to be fussed by the Boss who duly complied. On this occasion, I waited until the little dog had departed before racing back to where the Boss waited.
Back to the day in question, and I am still standing stock still on the path. My nose gives a nervous twitch. I can smell danger. The Boss suddenly cries out in delight as a monstrous beast emerges from an adjoining path and sits rights next to her, its owner chatting away, quite unconcerned. The Boss seems to forget about me at that point.
‘What a lovely boy,’ she croons to the enormous creature who could gobble me up in one mouthful, I am sure, he’s called Bear? How lovely,’
The monster called Bear, stands up, he is going to eat the Boss! I need to get out of here. I turn and run.
“Oh, your dog has run off,’ the other woman says.
‘Oh, don’t worry, she’ll be waiting for me somewhere in here,’ the Boss laughs (yes laughs!) and starts walking back to find me. The thing is, the scent of that monster seems to linger in my nostrils, and I find myself in a blind panic, racing through the woods until I come to the entrance we walked through not ten minutes ago.
Now, I have since been told I must have crossed that main road but I have no memory of doing so. However, somehow, despite the cars that thunder by, I find myself on the other side of the road and heading back down the track, which I know will lead to home.
Now picture the Boss, if she hasn’t been eaten by the Bear monster, she will be calling me, running this way and that before she thinks to phone the Boss Man and tell him I have run away and she cannot find me. An awful thought then enters her mind, supposing I have run all the way home? It is fair to say that the Boss is very worried at this point. I know, because she tells me later.
The Boss Man prepares to drive down to the wood to help her search for me when I spy a friendly face in the driveway I have just reached. The lady it belongs to, gets into her car and begins to reverse as I cross behind her car. The car beeps and she stops and gets out. There I am, tail wagging, so happy to see her. This lady makes a fuss of me,
‘I almost ran you over,’ she scolds. She grabs a lead and clips it to my harness and is about to walk me home, she lives but two doors away, when another friendly face appears belonging to a lady who has spotted me heading along the road and also recognises me.
My predecessor is to blame for their concern. Flossie, apparently, was an escape artist, she’d find a way to get out of the garden if she could and go visit the neighbours, this one in particular. They assume I have done the same.
I want to tell them all about the monster who may have eaten the Boss by now, but the second lady, one of The Boss’s friends, takes the lead and says she will take me home.
As I trot into the house, the Boss man is on the phone talking to The Boss,
‘Yes, she’s here,’ he says, ‘I will drive down and get you.’
I am so relieved, the monster did not eat the Boss after all.
‘Yes, a Bernese Mountain Dog called, Bear,’ she is telling him. Bernese mountain dog? I am not sure I’d class him as a dog, a real Bear perhaps? I make a vow not to go to that place ever again. Just in case Bear is still there…

Two days later, I am fitted with a tracker device that bobs along on my harness. I really don’t know what they are all so concerned about…