Size Matters.

Long time no post. Much has happened so naturally one would think that would cause a huge spike in blog posting - alas, I did not find that to be case in this particular instance.

I have many interesting stories - one of which is about a confrontation that relates to the title of this piece...however that will wait for a slighly more coherent moment!

On to today's tale. While walking my dogs about 1/2 a mile off of a hiking trail near our new digs in Santa Barbara, CA we had an interesting experience....

yes, a large brown bear was hanging out, about 75 yards away. Being somewhat hardcore, my dogs decided that this apparently LARGE "dog" was infringing on their territory, and therefore required some attention, maybe to urinate on his turf, who knows what they were thinking. Ah, I also failed to mention that my dogs were off-lead at this time. Naturally, they b-lined for for the longsome bear. uugh.

While issuing commands to my excited kamikaze dogs, I drew my trusty S&W 340PD (loaded w.Speer .38 135 gr ammo!) and pondered WTF I was going to actually do... verbally challenge the Ursus arctos? Not bloody likely. I then had a sad realization...while this little Oh Sh1t! pistol may stop a human, all I would succeed in doing in my present situation would be to irritate the bear while he is mauling my K-9 companions. Knife? yeah, well, while I have plenty of those, a pocketknife is fairly worthless against bear-hide, especially when the bear is alive & clawing at you. Where's a Ruger Alaskan when you need it?

Well, the brown bear took notice of my oncoming dogs, and started to stand up...

By this time, my words to the commando K-9's took on a screeching tonality, and apparently my pups heard the frenzy and absolute lack of rationality in my voice! My little shepherd turned on a dime and bolted back to me! My Doberman was still in the heat of the moment and about to become the last great dobe-bear-hunter, however when he noticed that his companion was missing, he turned and sprinted back in my direction. Hurrah. Time to get the hell out of dodge.

All three of us sprinted the mile back to our safe dog park, I don't think we're walking that trail again -- at least not without a some form of pack rifle. Thanks to some luck, and some training hidden deep within my animals, we exited the scene unscathed. Had I been appropriately equipted, (bear pepper spray, my 14" bowie, something that shoots .454 Casull)
I would still have RUN, because regardless of what you are carrying, when the sh1t hits the fan it's never big enough.