At 2:00 in the afternoon, I was sweeping the living-room floor before going down to the pond to dig up thistles (I'm after those thistles!) when I heard a click-click-click on the deck. Not a deer sound but a bear-paw sound. I looked up to see a huge chocolate-brown bear just then lumbering off the deck opposite the living-room's glass door.
I know this bear. He's been here before. He has put his paw or nose prints on windows in every downstairs room in the house – living room glass door, guest room window, bathroom glass door and windows, kitchen window. A very clear five-fingered paw print smudges the wall under one window, and at the outdoor shower I see paw prints at head-height (five feet), where the bear had stood up to grab the bath scrubber I keep (kept) hanging on the shower head. (After he gnawed holes in my shampoo bottle, I have been taking all soap and shampoo back into the bathroom after my shower, but the scrubber must still have had the smell of soap in it because he shredded it and left it hanging.) The paw prints on the bathroom door are even higher than the ones behind the shower. He has torn a hole in the cushion on the chair I keep on my small front porch. He has carried off a shoe from that same porch. He has bitten a hole in a carton of deer repellent I keep under the deck and drunk it all. He has even bitten holes in a gallon of paint I kept in the same spot.
I NEVER feed bears (or any other wildlife). But this bear must think I do.
I have heard this bear at night, and I caught a glimpse of him a few nights ago, wandering in the woods above the house. But here he was again, walking around my deck, in the middle of the day. While I was at home! Now was my chance to scare him off. If I hurried, I thought, I could run upstairs and get my air horn, where I keep it next to the bed for immediate access in case the bear comes 'round, and give him a good scare before he left the premises. But just as I turned to go upstairs, the bear changed his mind about leaving. He turned around and started climbing back onto the deck.
That was too much. I jerked the door open and yelled, "What do you think you're doing?! This is my house. Run! Run! RUN!" The bear was running. By the time I got to the first "run!" he was already at the pond. The last "run!" was hurled at the diminishing sounds of his crashing through the woods. He couldn't get away fast enough – for him or for me. I'm sure my yells were heard miles up the road.
I have been making sure all the doors and downstairs windows are locked when I leave the house or go to bed. I never leave soap or shampoo at the outdoor shower. There is no more deer repellent at my house. I bring all shoes inside. I keep the car locked, knowing there must be food smells in it and remembering the bear that opened the car door of a neighbor and, when it shut behind him, got trapped inside the car. I do believe I can live peacefully with this bear, as long as I remember that bears will eat anything. I don't think he'll be around again, though, after his Big Scare from the Big Bad Woman at the House – at least, not until the apples get ripe.
(For obvious reasons I have no pictures to go with this post.)
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