Farley’s Friday: Dog and Bear

Farley here.

Deep sleep to wide awake. I smell it. I stand and walked stiff-legged to the window.

Farley’s Bear Impersonation

I take a deep sniff. There’s a bear behind my house.

I growl. Deep in my throat and that wakes my human.

“What’s wrong?” Kristina asks but doesn’t raise her head.

I bark.

She rolls over.

I bark again and jump on her. This gets her attention.

I run back to the window and bark some more. This gets the neighbor’s dogs going.

My humans turn on the flood light, and sure enough, there’s a bear in the back yard.

I run to the basement, hide in the closet, and bark as loud as I can.  My barks echo here, so I know I’m loud.

When I hear all is quiet, I slink  back upstairs and check.  The bear is gone.

Good thing I was here to talk care of things.
Woof Woof.


Farley’s Friday: Bears and Dogs

Farley here,

It’s bear season again, and you know that means. I’m back on a leash. I made the mistake once, only once, of chasing a bear, and now Kristina thinks I’m not reliable when there are bears around.

This guy was in our backyard last year. We’d just come home from a walk, and he was meandering across our grass and over into the neighbours yard.  He’s pretty little, so what harm could he do. He’s giving me a snarky look because I’m barking at him. No chasing though. Kristina has a good grip on my harness.


But I can still have fun with a leash on. Kristina lets me sneak around the golf course sometimes. This is my favorite hill. Rolling down it is a blast. Then it’s back to Kristina and walking on leash. I don’t know why that’s safer than walking off-leash. But she’s in charge, so what’s a dog to do?

Farley rolling downhill

Woof Woof

Farley’s Friday: Bear Barking

Farley here,

I’ve finally trained my humans to understand my barks.

A deep growl followed by frantic, high pitched barks means: “There is a bear within 20 feet.” There is a lot of body language involved here too. Mostly, me putting my body between the humans and the bear, so the humans know which way to retreat.

Deep, in the throat, repeated barking means:  “There is a bear in the area but not close.” I’m a herder by genetics, so…I herd them away to safety.

Howling, long barks mean: “There is an aggressive deer nearby.” My experience, a doe with a fawn can be cranky at the best of times. My front paws usually lift off the ground during this communication.

Cheery barks mean: “There is a deer, but a nice one nearby.”

Barking while running in a circle, repeatedly looking at my human, and wagging my tail means: “There is a squirrel, so let me go chase it.”

It’s exhausting teaching humans to understand my language, but since their sense of smell is lousy, they need to be warned if there is a creature in the neighbourhood.

After a strenuous session of teaching Kristina dog speak, we relax with a yoga class.  I’m supposed to be doing the downward dog, but I’m just too tired.

Farley doing Joga

Woof Woof.

Farley’s Friday: I’m Thirsty…

Farley here,

I don’t like getting my paws wet. I’m thirsty, parched actually, but my pads should always stay dry.  So I lived on a sailboat for five years. That doesn’t mean I love water. I love being on water, preferably in a kayak or a dingy. Fish belong in water, not me.

Matt’s wearing boots, He doesn’t have to put his feet in the water. Now that I think of it, he drinks from a water bottle, he doesn’t even have to put his snout in the water.


Notice the leash. Still too many bears in the area that I might chase. My humans think they can’t trust me when a bear is around. I try to explain I need to protect them, but sometimes humans don’t understand dog language.

Woof Woof.

Farley’s Friday: Canadian Wildlife

Farley here,

Excitement in the forest. That’s an understatement. One buck and three bears.

I woke up to a misty morning, stretched my legs and headed for the back door. Staring in at me was this buck. His silky antlers are about the size of his ears but will grow. He’s a white tail and usually hangs with two others.


I’ve learned the hard way that a buck will move away if I’m in the area. A doe will stand her ground, stomp at me and warn me to head the other way. I get the shakes when I’m around a doe and am smart enough to know it’s her territory. Bears are different. I need to get them away from my humans.


Yesterday, I arrived home from my morning walk with wet paws. We  climb the steps at the side of our house, blissfully unaware of what’s  lurking in the forest. Kristina grabs my towel and squats with her back to the forest. I lift my front paw for her. We’re face-to-face. I lick her nose.

I glance over her shoulder. My body stiffens. My upper lip curls. I emit a slow growl.

Kristina tenses. Her adrenaline rush is so strong, I can feel it in my bones. She looks like Sigourney Weaver in Alien. You know the scene where Weaver realizes an alien is behind her but she doesn’t look back.

Inch-by-inch Kristina turns her head. I lunge, trying to get over Kristina’s shoulder. I need to protect her. She grabs my harness and stops me. Twenty feet away, the black bear stares at us. He doesn’t move.

Kristina slowly drags me into the house, all the while saying, “Whoa Bear.”

Matt explodes out the door with and air horn. After three blasts, the bear disappears. He takes his time, meandering through our backyard, not really caring we’re there.


The day before, this guy was waiting for us at the side of our house.  He was smaller but still not concerned we were so close to him.


The third bear I mentioned, I saw a couple of weeks ago while we were out walking. Maybe the rest of day will be calm.

Woof woof.

Farley’s Friday: A Wheaten Terrier and a Bear

Farley here,

Why am I running so hard? I need to protect my humans.


I catch a strong scent. I’ve not smelled this particular aroma before, but something seems wrong to me. Kristina and Matt notice I’m agitated and call me to their side. Too late. My brain has kicked into instinct mode and off I run.

Then I see the creature. It’s black. It’s coat is shiny. And it’s huge. Well compared to me anyway.

I turn back to check my humans are not following.  Kristina picks up a branch and is rapidly approaching. Matt’s faster and heads my way. Don’t they understand they need to get away? 

I bolt at the bear, he hesitates, then sees I’m one serious dog. He climbs part way up a tree and waits. Kristina and Matt come closer, talking loudly and telling me to come. The bear shimmies farther up the tree, using his giant claws to move quickly.

I circle the bottom. “Stay up there,” I bark at the bear. Then back to Kristina and Matt, “Get out of here.”

Kristina and Matt call me one more time, then do as I ask. When I think they’re far enough from the bear, I bark one last time, and follow my humans out of the forest.

Not bad for a day’s work. You can call me the protector. I’ve done my job, and I’m proud.

Woof Woof

ps. I was only a little scared.