I fell down a hill and into some very pointy and angry and horrible vines and sticks and forest debris. My paws were carefully stepping down the falling forest floor. I do not remember where my paws were taking me or why, but I do remember the feeling of my front paws slipping and sliding and pulling the rest of my body with them as my belly slammed into the ground, my fuzzy fur collecting the chunks of dirt and dislodged tree roots all around.

The wind fought my eyes as I slid. It took the chunks of dirt and dislodged tree roots from my belly fuzz and hurled them toward my face. I was blinded for a moment, so I was not ready for the full force of my entire me slamming into a mound of everything pointy the forest had to offer. Vines with little prickly things on them. Sticks broken on every end. The sharpest, worst rocks. So many pointy things. Things I have no words for other than pointy and angry.

There is a lapse in my memory. Maybe it was because I could not see. Maybe I was thinking of something better than where and what I was right then and there. Maybe I napped? It is a very real possibility that I napped for awhile. What I do remember is feeling the struggle of trying to get out of the vicious pile of hatred I had slid into. I remember trying to wiggle my paws and my belly as I used all of the energy I could muster to pick myself up and not be in the vicious pile of hatred I was stuck in.

The vines twirled around my paws. The sticks were poking through my fur. Something (maybe something alive) got stuck in my nose until I violently sneezed it out. For a moment, I do remember this, I knew I was going to be stuck in that horrible prison of forest leftovers forever. I even briefly considered accepting it, closing my eyes, and napping until all the painful little bits that held me down evaporated.

I did not, though. I began to bite and claw and make little growling sounds I had never heard myself make before. I kept fighting at the things that held me until I felt myself coming free. Finally, I wrestled it all away from me. I got on all four of my paws and ran away from it all. I kept running until my paws hurt too much to keep going, which was not very far. I was still able to see the miserable pile. I had gotten over it. I was free. I sat for a moment, catching my breath, staring at what I had escaped. It was not easy, but I had gotten through it.

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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