Paytan Douglas

Once upon a time, there was a big, burly grizzly bear named D.

D was known for causing mischief and mayhem wherever he went. It caused his parents a few scares, and his brother a few laughs.

One day, D met another bear—this one a teeny tiny sun bear named M. She had a glossy coat more radiant than, well, the sun, along with an endearing chittered laugh and eyes that sparkled like ambers.

D knew instantly—he would follow M wherever she wanted to go.

And so he did. D and M were together many a years before their first cub arrived—though T’s birth scared the couple at first, they were ever grateful for her existence. The small brown bear gave D a new sense of the meaning “devotion.”

With M by his side and T around his neck, D felt full. Content in a way his youth never made him. The years of mischief and mayhem still followed D, though this time it was filled with pride as T learned to waddle, to clean her fur and chitter back at her parents.

Before long, M and D thought about having another cub. After all, T got lonely when D would have to hunt, and M was busy tidying their den.

They tried for another—and another they got.

P was the opposite of T in all the worst ways. Her fur was black as night, chalky where T’s was smooth. Temperamental in ways T and M never were. Picky eating made D snarl at P’s refusal to eat the kills he made.

When D got frustrated, he turned to his mate to ask what he was doing wrong. M always assured him it was nothing, and that each of their cubs were different and sometimes required a different touch.

Despite not fully grasping the concept, D agreed.

It wasn’t until much later that D understood P’s mentality. As the cub grew up, she looked, acted and sounded more and more like the grizzly each day.

Other bears pointed out how similar they were. T speculated it was why they fought so often. M considered it a gift at times to end up with another D in her life—though occasionally, she questioned her sanity.

P sometimes wondered if her sire liked passing down his personality. Though some would look at P with disgust after hearing her snarl what no one else dared to, she was relieved when one person always understood.

D always knew her thoughts as if they were his own. There was a mutual agreement between the pair—a sort of treaty that they both signed at some point. They knew their demons, their darkness, and recognized it in one another. While they couldn’t get rid of it, they at least had someone to talk to about what they couldn’t with others.

From saving P from a stray kodiak bear that nearly took her leg, to being the one to inform her about her tibetan blue bear grandfather being shot by hunters, to helping her hunt and distinguish berries and track possible predators, D had helped P in more ways than he would ever know.

One day, P wishes she could give some small token of her gratitude to D and have him understand—like he has about nearly everything throughout her life.

Until then, she’ll crack his jokes and grin his smile and look more and more like D did in his youth. And with enough hope, D will be glad that P has his temperament and his emotions and his sarcasm. Because she also inherited his wit and his loyalty and his heart.

Love you ♥