Back when I was a mere toddler, my great grandfather, Noah Bristoe, could always be counted on to relate a bear tale.

We'd go see him down at his house in Lovelaceville.

He was usually at his station in a cane bottomed chair beside an old coal stove in the big room.

I'd crawl up in his lap,...say, "Noey,..tell me a bear tale".

One I recall went like this.

"There was this young couple who had a baby, They also had a big ole' yaller dog.

They were out workin' in the garden one day,..and they noticed a lot of movement through the wind-er of their house,..but they didn't pay it no mind. They just thought it was their big old yaller dog.

Then,..when it was time fer dinner, they went into the house, and a bar had et the baby".

My 4 year old brain composed the equivalent of "holy chit!" upon hearing this,..but it was the order of the day.

It you didn't watch your chit,..a bear would eat your family.

Noey wasn't PC enough to hide that reality from me.