A Bear Under The Porch

The last couple of weeks around here have been all about The Bear.

It all started a while back, when one of the kids left a bag of trash, inside a plastic trash can, on the back porch. "Something" carried it off, mauled it, and left large teeth marks all over the can. Marty thought it was a bear. I was quick to agree, because Marty knows his animal signs, and because black bears are somewhat common out here.

Several days later I was getting ready for bed. All was quiet, and just as I was climbing into bed, I heard the unmistakable crash of our metal trash cans (which are under the porch) crashing over.

I knew it was the bear, and my heart stopped. Imagine? You're in your nightie, the kids are tucked in, and you know without a doubt there's a bear under your porch?

I fetched Marty, who was just about to have a shower. To his credit, he did not get wide-eyed and alarmed like his wife. We went to the front door, opened it, and listened. Silence. We clapped our hands and made some noise, and listened. Total silence. Then we crept to the edge of the porch and peered into the depths of darkness.

There was the black and shaggy form of a bear, very slowly and leisurely shuffling out from under the porch. He didn't make a sound. He paused in the driveway as we stared. Because of the deep shadows cast by the porch light, I could only see his hind end. But make no mistake, it was a bear.

The next few nights he returned (leaving muddy paw prints) to investigate the garbage again, and to tear down our very tall deer feeder, which apparantely had a few cups of corn left in it. In a panic, we called the DNR, but they were no help. I began taking the garbage to the dump every day. We took down the hummingbird feeder. Then came the matter of the birdseed box.

It's a lovely large chest Marty built to store our birdseeds in. We knew the bear would come up on the porch after it. Rather than have that happen, we carried it off to the woods (we did not want to store it in the house) and left it there, like an offering to the Gods.

And he found it. He couldn't figure out how to open it at first, so he did this:

Because if you can't open it, then bite a hole in it, right? Then he figured out how to open it, and he did., pulling open the top and leaning his weight on it, nearly warping it off the hinges. We saw the evidence the next morning as we filed out to the car to go to the bus stop. And I worried.

But since that night? No more signs of The Bear. We believe he's moved on.

Bears are common around here, and everyone I've mentioned this to is totally unimpressed. But for me? A Big Deal, one to get both excited and nervous about.

We now need to dispose of our torn up bird seed box. But we have yet to get around to it, so in the meantime? The squirrels are having a field day with the leftover seeds!