Yogi Bear’s story

Technically, according to Yogi, he is not a dog he’s a bear. One may be forgiven for thinking any different, after all he does look like a terrier type but only a bear could have the depth of thought and empathy that he does. Norfolk is also pretty much wilderness country so only bears could really survive up there.

Yogi is one of only three in the pack that I actually bought as a puppy. It would be easy to say that he was a sort of rebound purchase after I lost my beloved Jordi Cavalier so suddenly but in truth, I had hankered after a Norfolk bear for a while. At the time, Yogi is 10 now, Norfolks were still relatively rare in London as breeders were hard to come by and difficult to please (the term ‘Spanish inquisition’ was often used to describe them as it was so hard to get a puppy). However, I had trained a few of them and one in particular called Raleigh had captured my heart. It was thanks to his owner, Anne, that I found a wonderful breeder who invited me up to Northampton to see her pups. At this stage, I should point out that Tony had already experienced my “I’m just going to have a look” comment so he was ready for the inevitable arrival of bear fur. I bought a bear cub.

From the day he arrived, we knew there was something a bit special about our bear. Yogi loves humans but especially his humans and wears his heart on his paw. When Tony was ill, Yogi rarely left his bedside, he just lay there with the saddest look on his face. My first thought after Tony died in my arms was as to where the emergency crew had put Yogi, we needed each other. Finding him all alone in the bedroom, I remember scooping him up and just hugging him as he wrapped every part of his body around me. The whole experience has had a lasting effect on our little bear, he is still terrified of losing his loved ones. Whenever Callum goes away, he mopes for days and if I leave him for any length of time I need to hug a bear afterwards. Oddly enough, he never cries when anyone goes, he just waits quietly at the door. I took him over to L’Horte today and he immediately went and sat by the kitchen door even though it is now boarded up, for him it was such a happy place.

Yogi loves gardening, I think it is something that reminds him of days spent with Tony pootling around the front garden or watching him mow the lawn. He is quite happy to just sit and watch whilst one goes about the business of pruning, planting or plowing. I’m sure he has many ideas of how things could be improved but thankfully, in this case, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He is also quite the swimmer and could be mistaken for an otter as he glides effortlessly through the river at L’Horte. Some of his favourite moments I’m sure would be down at the water with the kids.

Since coming to France, I think Yogi has found his calling – the local epicerie. The short walk around the corner to get bread or croissants is the highlight of his day. It is here that he gets to chat up all the locals especially the ladies who always stop and talk to him whilst I’m in the shop. There is something about Yogi that draws people to him, perhaps it is his empathetic nature that attracts a human soul or maybe his cute eyebrows. He is a bear who cares and gives amazing hugs which to him, are what life is all about. Except food, food is probably more important…….