Hercules the Bear - A Gentle Giant in the Family. Maggie Robin

this time it was becoming ridiculous and beginning to attract the attention of the local papers. It seemed that, although the council could not find any legal grounds for refusing the licence, there were several councillors who did not like the idea of a grizzly bear roaming about the hills of Sheriffmuir and were determined not to be rushed into any decision. After several months even the councillors were looking for a way out and decided to visit the Inn.

      We were given pre-emptory notice of this and then were plagued at all hours of the day by the comings and goings of councillors, arriving without appointment and expecting to be shown round and given the full treatment.

      We both felt irritated that these bureaucrats could arrive and roam about our home pulling at bars, opening doors and measuring things that had all been tested and measured before. Matters came to a head one Sunday with the arrival of a woman councillor.

      I had been working hard in the bar all week and was enjoying a peaceful afternoon mucking out the horses. I was about to go for a ride across the moors when I noticed a heavily made-up elderly woman in an imitation fur coat making across the yard and boldly opening the gate.

      ‘Can I help you?’ I asked.

      ‘I’m from the council,’ she said. ‘I’ve come to see your bear.’

      I closed the gate and followed her to Hercules’s den.

      ‘There he is,’ I said, ‘that’s my baby.’

      She looked at me as if I was mad and, hauling the plan of the enclosure from her bag, proceeded to walk round the den checking and testing things. As I watched her I could not fail to be struck by the contrast between the natural grace of the wild creature behind the bars and the phoney elegance of the human outside. A comparison between their coats made me smile involuntarily – the one so rich and glossy, the other so dull and tawdry. At that moment Andy arrived on the scene. I grimaced at him to let him know that something was up.

      ‘Can I help you?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m from the council. I’m here to see your bear,’ she said again.

      ‘What do you think of him? He’s a beautiful boy, isn’t he?’ asked Andy.

      ‘No comment,’ was all she said.

      ‘I beg your pardon …’ began Andy. I slid away to avoid the explosion. Where Hercules was concerned he reacted as most fathers would.

      From the kitchen I saw the councillor wither under Andy’s broadside and the next minute she was in the bar, dragging away an astonished man from his half-pint.

      ‘I’ll not have you drinking in this place,’ she said as she hurried him into her car and drove off, scattering stones.