Our neighborhood has a marauding bear. Marauding seems perhaps too intense a word, because he or she is a hungry young adult due to the drought our area had this summer. There have been few nuts or berries for the wild critters to fatten up on, so they are wandering farther afield. I feel entitled to any word I want, however, after the hour and a half I spent a while back, collecting garbage strewn all over the rocky slopes of our arroyo. Not much sympathy for him then, especially since our garbage has been untouched for 10 years.
We know he’s a young adult because one morning soon after, I heard a crash, sat straight up in bed and saw him standing outside our bedroom door in the grey dawn, looking quite lost, smallish and confused. Bears just are cute, they really are.
As I got out of bed and walked closer to the door for a closer look, he loped down off the deck and into the woods. He’d knocked down the almost empty can that we keep our birdseed in, but hadn’t been happy with it.
We’ve now found appropriate garbage protection plan, which is putting the cans in the now-unused chicken pen (bobcat) and thought we were home free. But one night my husband loaded the garbage in the truck and then realized the dump had closed. He forgot to “secure” the garbage in the truck bed, so we had a difficult second garbage episode the next day (I left it up to him). After that, we’d had no sign of the bear until the other morning when we found birdseed scattered all over our walk from a bag overlooked in our bear-proofing efforts.
It doesn’t look like he ate much. Even so, we’re taking our time cleaning it up.