My Buddy

My buddy and I,
For that’s what I thought,
Had a string of fish
That we had both caught.

We’d heard the stories,
About a big bear,
As big as a car
But we didn’t care.

We’d flown in by plane
To this little stream,
An old guide had called
A fisherman’s dream.

Then we saw the bear.
We stood there dumb struck.
Not big as a car.
But big as a truck.

He had yellow fangs
And a silver mane.
He stood there sniffing,
‘Tween us and the plane.

They said that a bear
Could beat us by twice
Every one offered
The same type advice.

Man isn’t a bear’s
Most favorite dish,
If making a choice,
They’ll always choose fish.

So drop all your fish
Walk slowly away
And hope that the bear
Has had a good day.

Advice that was clear,
No way to confuse
Why was my buddy,
Removing his shoes?

Was he so stupid?
Too long in the sun?
‘Cause I could see he
Was planning to run.

You’ll outrun a bear?
Oh sure, you can wish.
He just grinned at me
And tossed me the fish.

You know what he said,
Removing a shoe?
“Why outrun the bear?
I’ll just outrun you!”

My Buddy is the type of a buddy that we all hope we don’t have.

A bunch of summers ago some friends and I went to Alaska to help build a church. After a week of work, the local pastor took us up to a mountain stream to fish for trout. He warned us about bears and how to react if we saw one. We actually did see some huge bear tracks, and only the most dedicated fishermen among us concentrated on fishing.

The thought occurred to me then and there that to escape a bear, one would only have to be faster then the others. We joked about it but I noticed no one wore their waders. The moral of the story is ‘Be careful how you select your friends’.


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