Back in April, I wrote about the Spring visitation from one of the wildlife types I have to cohabit with up here on the mountain. At that time, I’d had only a passing glance in the way of damage to the bird feeders.
Did I tell you guys about the enormous bear that showed up early evening a few weeks ago and committed major mayhem at the bird feeder station? My mighty Fergus alerted me with his wild barking at the patio door. He wanted OUT! He wanted to go get that BEAR!
It was a big one. I know, I already mentioned that. I pounded on the patio door and he/she jumped off the retaining wall and headed down the hillside into the trees. By the time I got my Glock and was firing at its dust, it was probably already the half-mile (as the bear runs) down to the county road.
This is what she left me.
Then a few days ago, Fergus and I were relaxing after a hard day, me with a wine spritzer, he licking the sweat off my arm, when I saw out of the corner of my eye a big, black object moving across the patio. I think it was one of the nearly-grown triplets I wrote about in April, but it could be any young adult. Noticeably smaller than the bear a few weeks ago.
I had just gotten the bird feeder pole back from my welder friend (who’s still working on the shepherd’s hooks that were also bent), so no feeders were hanging, but the kid had to check the situation out anyway. Based on tracks in the flower bed, this was after he/she had looked in my bedroom window.
Again with the pounding on the patio door. Again, it ran down the hill. I’m, quite frankly, getting a little tired of this. I’ve got the Glock, fully loaded, a round in the chamber, by the patio door. Dammit.
Before you suggest I notify Game and Fisheries and get them to come trap, relocate or cull, I’ll just tell you that I did that way back when My Darling Husband and I had our first of many ugly encounters with a black bear skulking and marauding around our house, bird feeders, beehives* and compost bins. The hard-working civil servants do not do anything about bears, nuisance, deadly or otherwise. They give advice: don’t feed birds, don’t compost, don’t have outdoor storage for pet food or garbage, don’t leave your doors unlocked. If a bear does get inside your house, “open all the doors, wave your arms, and yell GET OUT!” So helpful.
* After the first time a bear tore into our beehives, My Darling Husband (with help from friends) put an electric fence around the bee yard. 10,000 volts. It stops the bears so long as the battery is charged, but even at that, there have been at least two subsequent times a bear has gotten through to destroy bees and hives. It’s a horrible mess to clean up and not easy to do while crying over all the poor bees and getting stung to pieces because the survivors are mad as hell.