My fur is very soggy at this moment, and I am not okay with it.

The water from above has been torrential lately and has hindered the enjoyment I usually have for being outside of my cave. My sedimentary status has not be driven by a fear of water (from the sky or otherwise). I usually do not mind being wet. I enjoy a good frolic in the river (when the deer is not present, of course), and on hot days, rain is welcomed.

But the continuous berating of precipitation has become exhausting, and has driven me out into the storm that has become my home. Before accepting my wet fate, I had been in my cave for many moon cycles (I think; it has become very difficult to tell when the sun is up or not in all this gloom), and I have run out of activities to do.

I have counted every single loose rock on the cave floor (there are 37) and have named them (my favorite of the bunch are Glenn, Ned, Samantha, Andy, Emily, Gwen, Rock, Small Rock, Other Rock, The Rock Formally Known as Big Rock [back when there were only 36 rocks, before I dropped one], and Steve).

I gathered several blades of grass and tried to create a game using them. I invited Rob (the squirrel) over to play, but he said the rules were too confusing and then bit my nose and ran to his tree.

The final straw that pushed me out of my solitary cave is when I tried to draw portraits of familiar faces using a stick and soft dirt. Things started out well enough. I did a fine job on Rob (the squirrel), but the water from above crept into my cave and washed it away. The same thing occurred when I drew other woodland creatures who have been kind. Knowing the above water’s sinister disposition, I decided to draw the deer in the hopes that it would also cleanse the foul beast from my home, but the water did not. The above water had other plans and puddled around the image of the deer as if it were trying to protect it.

I do not think I like the water from above. I sloshed a pawful of water from the protective moat and washed away the image of the deer. I had had it with being in my cave.

I did not care how soggy I became, it was better than sitting that cave, trapped by the deer-loving above water.

Now I sit in the pouring water, waiting for it to stop. I wonder if my acceptance of defeat will make the water calm itself. Only time will tell.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

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