(First, if you haven’t had a chance to check out the tension blogfest, check here for my entry and links to all the other really good ones!)
I have a bone to pick with our bear.
Remember how the he made off with our bird feeder?
|(in the interest of full disclosure, this is not actually our bear –
he is far too sneaky to be seen stealing the feeder and too cagey to allow photographic evidence!)
Well, there’s more…
See, it’s been so wet that we left our garage open to air. In the space of about 5 minutes, a pair of birds decided to set up housekeeping. They built a nest in the garage rafters and laid some eggs.
Ergo, we could not close the garage – not unless we wanted an international reputation as baby bird murderers… which we certainly did not!
But we keep our trash in the garage until Saturday. Usually it’s safe from the bear because the garage is closed. But, baby birds and whatnot (see above.) So we closed the trash can lid tight, fastened it across the top with two (count them, 2!) sturdy black rubber bungee cords, and figured all would be well.
All was not.
The bear came in the night, removed the bungee cords and the trash can lid with ease, dragged both bags up the hill across from the mud room, and proceeded to go through every morsel of trash, strewing it through the woods for about an acre….
Which I then had to go pick up in the morning….
Not my top choice of activity pre- 6 AM and pre-coffee!
(P.S. Bears apparently love chocolate and will lick out the insides of candy wrappers… even tiny ones like the foil around easter eggs… and leave them in soggy little chewed-up pieces all over the place… ick. They also think they like orange peels, but change their minds once they start chewing. You have not known joy until you get to pick up orange peels that have been chewed by a bear and then spit back out!)
Suffice to say, I was not happy with the bear. But it was kind of my fault for leaving trash in the garage with the door open. And I get nature. So I would have been willing to forgive.
Until last night.
10 PM. Dark. Quiet.
Suddenly, a small noise. It could have been a squirrel or a deer.
I ignored it.
But the dogs did not.
They had been flat out asleep on the floor after their hectic, grueling day (you know the difficult kind of life they lead :)) but at the first hint of that noise, both heads went up, all four ears pricked attentively, and Scout growled, low in her throat, the universal dog Warning Growl.
(Given that the dogs consider themselves off duty from 8 PM to 5:30 AM and generally sleep with great devotion and no noise, if they react to something during those hours, it’s usually for real.)
A moment later, the sound of screeching metal had the dogs on their feet and charging down the stairs, barking their ferocious little heads off.
Hmm… screeching metal. I assumed the bear was in the garage again, messing with the trash can, and I felt very smug. Being the quick learner that I am, I had stopped putting the trash in the garage. Instead, it was safely stinking up the mud room. Take that, bear! No trash pick-up for me in the morning!
Except it turns out, that’s not what he was doing.
Look what he did!
Now I am personally affronted. Hurt, even.
This time, it’s personal!
Helping himself to take-away breakfast is one thing. Breaking and entering my house is quite another.
That bear and I are going to have to have a serious talk!
Actually, I think this calls for drastic measures. I’m going over his head. I will be writing a letter to his mother to tell her exactly what I think of her parenting skills – teach him some manners please! – and recommend she take him to a therapist to discuss his boundary issues!
I mean REALLY!
Please feel free to write sample letters – because how do you reason with a bear? – and/or share you own stories of wild animal invasion 🙂
Meanwhile, looks like we’re going to have to keep our trash in the basement…!