Three Jack Russells nosing for a critter,
Trip to the river along the old jeep track,
Checking logs, stumps and forest litter,
Good run for Spunky, Lizzie and Jack.

Jack bays under a blown down root ball,
Return to see what the ruckus is about
When none of them will heed my call.
As I arrive on scene a fight breaks out,

‘Possum, most likely their harried prey,
But no, it’s black — skunk should smell.
Whatever, the dogs were having their say,
But never at a critter like this, truth to tell,

For it growled and fought there in its bed,
Jack yowled. He was in the greatest pain,
In the darkness it was biting his head.
Into the animal I jabbed with my cane,

Loosened its grip, dogs backed from fray,
Then I saw the critter with far more clarity,
Began yelling for the dogs to come away,
They finally did, for them that was a rarity.

They came to me, I now had their ear,
I was very excited, continued to yell,
As a bear emerged, exited to the rear,
Out of sight or I’d have more fight to tell.

Small bear made its getaway quick,
It lunged three times up a tree, fell back,
Went to another, tried the same trick,
Then ran on off leaving only its track.

The dogs were covered in mineral red mud,
Spunky and Lizzie were still quite whole,
But Jack from his wounds was oozing blood,
Eye socket torn, in his neck a tooth hole,

His nose had been raked by claw or tooth,
His ear torn, the bleeding quite profuse.
The bear was not large, to tell the truth,
Or Jack wouldn’t have been turned loose.

Yes, Jack would not have fared so well,
If it’d been mama or papa, and not this bear.
There wouldn’t be a lot of Jack stories to tell,
His story would have ended in the bruin’s lair.

© 2005 R. Leland Waldrip