Captain Bear Paw, 1971-1987, was clearly the Best Dog Ever. (The captaincy was honorary.) He was a Flat Coat Retreiver runt that I found in the West Chester pound in Ellenville, NY.

I guess I had him before we moved to Brooklyn. We moved to Brooklyn because I lost a bet... that's another story. We moved to a place a few blocks from Prospect Park, which is one of the largest city parks in the world. I've lived in Booklyn for about 36 years now, and have always lived near the park. You know how some people have to live within a few miles of the sea, or they're restless and uncomfortable? Well I guess that's how I feel about the park. I've lived in 10 places in Brooklyn since I moved here, not one more than four blocks from the park, although I never consciously planned it that way.

Anyway Bear loved the park. There have always been Off-Leash hours where he could run free, And sometimes when he was really restless, I'd accidentally drop the leash and have to chase him. And he loved to run. When I decided to train for the NY Marathon, he ran with me. Apparently he was the wrong dog for long distance endurance running. He was always faster than me, of course, but he'd poop out at about five miles. When I started doing more, and got up to seven and a half a day, we were both upset that he couldn't keep up, and had to stay home.

Except for indoors, when he was truly bored, he wasn't much of a retriever. You'd throw a ball and he'd look at it and then look over at you and say "Nice throw, dad, (not!), now what?" Or he'd stroll over to the ball, flop down and chew it. And if you threw a stick for him in the park, he wouldn't just ignore it, you might as well have been on a different planet.

He loved to play. You know how dogs will lower their front legs till their elbows are on the ground, stick their butts in the air and wag their tails as a signal they want to play? Well, he'd slam his paws and forelegs onto the ground with a loud happy bark and then run in a circle to let you know he wanted to play.

And his favorite game in the park was chasing squirrels. Many times he'd be chasing so hard that when the squirrel made it to a tree, Bear would chase him about five feet up the trunk before he'd lose traction and fall back down.

One time we were up near 14th street where there is a semi open area and the trees are about twenty feet apart and he was off leash when he spotted a squirrel. He tore up the turf chasing that little guy. The poor squirrel took off, and then had a near fatal moment of indecision: he was between two trees and couldn't decide which was closer, so he dithered. And Bear ran him over. The poor squirrel was so terified he rolled over on his back, rolled his eyes up into his head and played dead. Or maybe he fainted. Anyway, after over running the squirrel, Bear came running back and slammed the ground around the squirrel with his tail whipping the air and barked "OK, Let's play!" And the squirrel just lay there shiverring, saying "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!"

Bear looked up at me with a puzzled expression that said "Daaad, why won't he play?!" Then he barked at the squirrel as if to say "Wake Up! Come on! Let's play!" And the squirrel just clenched his eyes shut and said "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die..."

So he nudged the frozen squirrel with his nose and said "Come on. You run, I chase. Let's go!" and the squirrel just continued to play dead. He stood around for a few moments, occaisionally nudging the squrrel, who continued to play dead.

Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and trotted off to search for more animated playmates. I thought he might have literally scared the poor squirrel to death, but when we doubled back a few muntes later, the squirrel had gone. I imagine he finally peeked with one eye, saw the coast was clear and staggered off to the nearest, highest tree to complete his recovery.