There are two things when I look outside that I don't want to see. One is a grizz (or any other type of bear)
It is funny how that works... A feller gets used to what he grows up with I guess... We have both - griz and blacks... Blacks, even big ones, don't scare me much. As a rule, just one big dog will put a black (and her cubs even) right up a tree. Seldom do they charge and mean it. And a griz will likely avoid you. Until it don't. There again, a worthy dog. If a griz iz stalking you the dog will know... if the griz is waiting to ambush you, the dog will know. And the dog will take action, albeit sacrificial a lot of times... But at least you are not unaware.
A wise horse will let you know too, even more so a mule (which I also set store by), but their action is less direct and useful... normally balking, and bucking, winding up with you in the dust and them making for the distant horizon... So a dog goes with me... And that is why I prefer a big wolf-malamute which stands a chance of walking away from a bear attack. Bears are naturally adverse to dogs and will tend to avoid them rather than push the point. And everywhere you go in griz country, you are going with a lever gun and a sidearm too. But the dog is the deterrent against most critters if it is big enough to be a threat...
Chewy ain't that. cow dogs just don't measure up. He'd give it a go, no doubt, but he would lose, and dang quick. Same with a cougar. A cougar would call him lunch.
the other is an alligator. We did have some gators for a while in the lake, but they were escorted away. I don't know what happened to them, lol.
Yeah. I don't like gators, or any other thing that might eat you from the water's edge... Which is mighty convenient living up in here. But even here... We had one a while back, in the pond behind Snappy's Sport Center... Evidently it got away from someone and wound up there... Cajuns being rare hereabouts, nobody knew what to do with it, so it met with a rather unfortunate and lingering demise. Too close to everything to shoot it, and nobody knew how to trap it... so it went by way of arrows as I recall.

I raised Appaloosas for a while...then paints. And a short stint of Andalusions .
I wrangled and hostle'd all kinds... from million dollar Arabs to common quarter horses, and even spent a bunch of time with Clydesdales... Keeping em and training/driving em. Even on roundup... I was an out rider, shagging the cows down out of the draws (big guy, big horse work), but after that, I was mostly a wrangler... Park me on a cow pony and my boots would be draggin, so all the cutting work was kinda not my style. So I would push the horses and care for em.
But my heart was always with them mountain Appys. 17/18 hands for me... With a mule tagging along hauling gear... That is the deluxe way to travel mountain trails, and I love that more than anything.
I only have one horse now....old as the hills that I just live out his remaining life. I would never even ride him.
Exactly the same for my mother... Horses are long gone, but she keeps her minis and ponies, long past their sell by date... They will likely die there, and Lord willing, so will she.
Take care of your top knot! 
