It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that I, as an animal rehabber, watch many wildlife documentaries. But there is one I saw some years ago is by far my favorite.
I don’t know if the brief story was staged or not, but it went like this: First scene, a bear cub, by himself, out on an open, rock-strewn plain. He was running as best his clumpy stride would permit; running for his life seeking shelter. A hungry adult cougar has spotted him, and knows he’s defenseless. The distance between them is great, but the cougar is gaining fast.
The terrified cub is running here and there to find protection, but there’s none to be had. Finally, in desperation, he jumps up on a rock and finds himself stranded; the only way down is straight into the waiting jaws of the cougar.
The camera now focused only on the cub. Now without hope, his fate all but certain, the cub does an amazing thing: he stands up to his full height of two feet, stretches his puny limbs outward, and roars – or at least as reasonable a facsimile as such a youngster can muster.
The camera-shot now changes to the cougar. Suddenly his eyes grow wide with fear, and he sprints – yes sprints – as far away from the cub as he can get.
Camera back to the cub: he’s still holding this offensive posture, and roaring as best he can.
The camera then pans back from the cub, and we see standing just behind him – mighty arms outstretched, four inch claws wide for attack, looking not a little put out, and not a little lethal -nine-foot tall momma grizzly bear.
Thanks mom.
