That was the name of the hotel we stayed at: and we heard rumours there was an actual bear prowling the corridors. You guessed it: Jeff dog was allowed to stay.
We were down for Rob and Laure's wedding and hopefully to catch up with the Greig family and their newborn too.
There was another wedding party at the hotel each night. And on Saturday, the reception had gotten out of hand. When I was checking out: I heard the manager explaining why the hotel bar hadn't been open late... guests already too drunk... fire extinguishers... reception bell rung for 2 hours... guests breaking into the kitchen for food, etc.
Things had been relatively quiet in our wing until 3am. At that point a clearly inebriated man was pounding on his own room door, yelling, "I'm standing outside MY room". We presumed his wife to be inside, too drunkenly sound asleep to hear him.
We could though, and so could Jeff. He wasn't about to let that drunken a-hole mess with our beauty sleep. He gave a series of such loud, deep growl/barks that I could feel my innards vibrate, and there was instant silence from the corridor (I like to imagine the drunk skulking off to sleep in the rock garden to dream of bears). I settled Jeff down with a special stick he had selected from the grounds earlier, and we all got back to sleep.
I had hoped to get a picture of Jeff in reception the next morning standing on his hind legs, next to the 2 stuffed bears. A police line-up type shot was what I had in mind, but with the amount of bark and twig scattered all over our room, paying quickly and leaving seemed most prudent.
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