My Great Uncle Tom as a young man came to hunt moose on the Kenai in 1920s.  Hunting is a family tradition.  As the story goes, he quit hunting after this trip because of the death of a female bear they thought was unaccompanied by any cubs only to find it wasn’t.  

This is a photo of my mother, in 1958 with Squeeks my first Red Squirrel. My step-dad brought him home when some tree clearing knocked down the nest.