So I ran from those menacing dancing bears as fast as I could. I leapt over streams, ducked under branches, slid down ravines. I grabbed hold of a birch tree to temper a particularly sharp turn and smashed belly first into the very bear the others had originally been pursuing.
Dazed, we slowly arose. I scratched behind my ears. He scratched behind his ears. I put my left foot out. He put his right foot out. We both did the hokey pokey in perfect unison. I tilted my head this way and that. He tilted his head this way and that. I performed a jerky flailing dance with my tongue hanging out and my eyes crossed. He performed a jerky flailing dance with his tongue hanging out and his eyes crossed. Recognizing a shared fondness for that scene in Duck Soup where Groucho and Harpo mirror each other’s movements, and a rare willingness to waste inordinate amounts of time, we continued doing this for a good 25 minutes.
In the course of this we got to talking. He had been born in Warren County, New Jersey and put up for adoption. We discovered that we shared a birthday. And a favorite flavor of squirrel goulash – banana nut! And a proclivity to tie the laces on our dancing shoes “bunny ear style” out of an inability to learn the other way that everyone else does it. Finally, we simultaneously grabbed each other’s right feet and discovered identical birthmarks under our third claws.
You guessed it dear reader! Bears everywhere are trying to cop my style! And who could blame them?
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