I recall one day in 1981... I was walking Bear across a bridge in Marysville, NB, CAN. I was near the end of the bridge and I spotted a lad walking his Irish Wolfhound along a street that led to the end of the bridge.

Bear was about 6 months old... a shepherd and NF mix. I knew he would go nuts when we got to the end of the bridge and he would see the hound. And I was ready.

He froze, began barking furiously, steadied... then made a charge. As he was at least 75 pounds, I had steadied also and when he got to the end of the leash, I held fast and it snapped. He ran about ten more feet and began backpeddling and slid to a full stop. He looked back at me with an incredulous look of, "You aren't gonna stop me!!!???"

He turned tail, ran behind me, ran between my legs, stopped with his head barely beyond my crotch and began to bark visciously at the hound.

The hound was rather aloof and nonchalant. The owner was laughing.

I cuffed Bear, grabbed him by the leash and drug him home against his will... yeah, right.

He was quite a dog. But, the day he went after the bus was his last. I felt sorry for the bus driver.