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My friendship
with Buffy grew painfully slowly. But one evening, I
discovered a wild male black bear attacking Buffy's pen. The
wild bear had nearly broken down the door. I shouted and threw
rocks until the bear lumbered off, then I crawled in the pen.
Buffy's tiny
front feet÷he was only about 5 months old at the
time÷pumped out from under his fuzzy rump as he ran
frantically in circles, bawling with fear. Finally he stopped
and stared at me. Shaking, he clambered onto my lap and hugged
me. I was crying. We cuddled for a long time that night.
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Finally we
slept the night together, bonding and becoming family.
. .
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Overnight I became not only his provider but his guardian
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