Delivering grizzlies has been challenging. Witness the narrow, dead-end alley off 27th St. in Billings that required extraordinary driving skills. There was the deep snow on Red Lodge Mountain and the cabin with no space to turn around. Unloading was one thing, but getting truck and trailer out was another. And there was the bank.
One grizzly can tell you that it's easier for a bank robber to get into a bank than it is for a bear--especially when you're a bear that weighs in at some 250 pounds with a girth of about 4'7". Height wasn't a problem. Weight, in point of fact, wasn't either. But that girth! (Obviously, our bear wintered well after larding on the fat with plenty of grubs, fish, and assorted other delicacies.)
The fact was, he just couldn't squeeze through the doors. The Shoshone First Bank of Cody, though, isn't an institution that turns away customers. Men in suits arrived, pushing out onto the sidewalk with welcome, examining the doors with an eye toward modifications. A woman with a guitar stopped to pat our grizzly on the shoulder (her height). Patrons with normal waists and hips paused, wishing the grizzly the best. "Is he going to make it?" they wondered aloud. Perhaps their thoughts also turned toward: "why would he want to?"
A small child gawked. "What?" was his question.
Summoned, the man who installed the undersized doors arrived, passing the overlarge bear without a glance, focused on the problem of the doors. "The moldings will have to come out," he said. "The controls will need to be taken down. Then we can remove the center post and the bear can enter." His voice was assured, the problem fixable.
"But ... ."
The bear sat and watched, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
"But I don't have time to do it today. You'll have to come back tomorrow."
The bear showed no emotional response. Perhaps when his artist, Denny Karshner, completes his persona, he will. But today he went peaceably back onto the trailer to return again tomorrow.
One grizzly can tell you that it's easier for a bank robber to get into a bank than it is for a bear--especially when you're a bear that weighs in at some 250 pounds with a girth of about 4'7". Height wasn't a problem. Weight, in point of fact, wasn't either. But that girth! (Obviously, our bear wintered well after larding on the fat with plenty of grubs, fish, and assorted other delicacies.)
The fact was, he just couldn't squeeze through the doors. The Shoshone First Bank of Cody, though, isn't an institution that turns away customers. Men in suits arrived, pushing out onto the sidewalk with welcome, examining the doors with an eye toward modifications. A woman with a guitar stopped to pat our grizzly on the shoulder (her height). Patrons with normal waists and hips paused, wishing the grizzly the best. "Is he going to make it?" they wondered aloud. Perhaps their thoughts also turned toward: "why would he want to?"
A small child gawked. "What?" was his question.
Summoned, the man who installed the undersized doors arrived, passing the overlarge bear without a glance, focused on the problem of the doors. "The moldings will have to come out," he said. "The controls will need to be taken down. Then we can remove the center post and the bear can enter." His voice was assured, the problem fixable.
"But ... ."
The bear sat and watched, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
"But I don't have time to do it today. You'll have to come back tomorrow."
The bear showed no emotional response. Perhaps when his artist, Denny Karshner, completes his persona, he will. But today he went peaceably back onto the trailer to return again tomorrow.
