SAD NEWS FROM THE NORTH
By Jim Foster
The news came by email and caught my attention at once. It was from my friends Shelia and James Issacs in Alaska. I had spent time photographing Brown Bear from their lodge and grown to enjoy their family and especially a medium sized dog named Murray.
Murray was a Bear Dog of the first degree and saved my person at least twice. That’s how I know Murray the best.
The message from James and Shelia was - Murray had passed away Thanksgiving morning 2008. Advanced years and a tumor on his spleen hurried his passing.
Murray was not a registered animal by AKC standards. His mother was half Labrador retriever and half Australian Shepherd and his father was a full-blooded Australian Shepherd. Murray was born September 30, 1998 and looks more like a Australian Shepherd. What he was, was a dog’s dog of the first degree.
Murray was raised at the lodge and at an early age, his mother whose name was Piper taught him bears were not welcome in the yard. Piper was a bear dog and taught her son to follow in her footsteps.
One sad day Piper did not return home. Days passed and it was surmised Piper had encountered a pack of wolves and had lost the fight. It could have been coyotes but not a bear; she was much too fast to be caught by a bear.
With Piper gone Murray was now the head bear dog and he took to his job with spirit and enthusiasm. He has become very protective of his family, friends and clients he accompanies on trips. Murray knows his job well and has an inborn instinct to know when a bear has ventured too close and his guard services are needed
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Murray’s other talents included flying from Soldotna to the lodge in James’ J-3 Cub airplane. Gathering many frequent flyer miles to his credit. His second love is riding in front of James on his 3-wheeler when he goes to the beach to meet incoming aircraft. The first time I saw Murray it was on the 3-wheeler meeting my plane.
I remember the crisp and cool morning in Alaska on the western side of Cook Inlet. September was half over and the animals and birds on the western side of Cook Inlet were busy preparing for the long Alaskan winter. I was going to be photographing on and near Silver Salmon Creek.
Nearing the creek it was easy to see several bears fishing. At first, their fishing method looked very much like children playing in the water but most were catching a salmon dinner.
The expedition consisted of James Isaak, yours truly and Murray, and I set up my camera close to the creek and watched a female with two cubs on the other side of the water. She knew we were there but went about her business of attending to her young cubs and eating some low bush cranberries growing near the edge of the trees. She didn’t seem interested in the creek or in doing any fishing.
Downstream a young four or five year old male bear caught my attention. He reminded me of a couple of my friends; although he fished very hard and tried every fishing trick he knew, he couldn’t catch a fish. He tried and tried without tasting even a morsel of salmon. He would stop and look around then try again.
His fishing activities brought him in our direction. He had also attracted the attention of the female with cubs. The female made it clear that she was not happy with the approaching male. There was a good reason for her concern, since male bears cause many cub deaths.
She stood to her full 7 feet and made it clear to the young male that his company was not welcome. Then she moved her cubs near the trees until he had moved a bit further downstream.
At this point his mind was on a fish dinner and not other bears although he did keep looking over his shoulder at the trio near the trees. My camera and tripod were set near the creek bank at a distance where the bear would pass 20 to 30 yards away. This would be a good place for some close-up photos.
James mentioned quietly that we might be inside the bear’s comfort range. We soon found out that we were.
Watching the big bruin through the camera lens showed he was a beautiful and healthy animal. He locked his gaze in our direction and popped his jaws a couple of times. This is bear body language for irritation. His next move was a slow, steady, and almost deliberate walk across the creek directly towards us.
“Stand your ground,” James whispered to me.
I heeded the advice and kept on shooting photographs with the bear filling more and more of the camera’s viewfinder with each splashing step. When the bear was only yards away, the little gray, brown, and white dog left our side and started running circles around the bear barking and snapping. Murray was on the job.
The grizzly was caught off guard and started following Murray in his circles that were also moving away from us. Within only a few minutes, Murray had the bear 100 yards away, confused, and wondering what had happened. It was only then that Murray trotted back to us and sat down by James for a well-deserved petting.
Murray didn’t do his job just once for me but in my eagerness to get some good photographs of the bears, I had two close calls that all ended well, thanks to Murray.
He will be missed and kept in that special place in my heart I have for incredible dogs.
MURRY THE BEAR DOG
September 30, 1998 – November 27, 2008
