12:45 a.m., Sunday -- After having looked out our kitchen window only two minutes before and all was clear, I opened the door to put a cricket outside, so Morty the Cat wouldn't harm it. It's bad luck, you know, to kill a cricket.
I heard an immediate rustling in the shadows near our house. I looked up to see a black bear about 20 feet away, jogging up our drive towards the picnic table. I had startled him. It might have been my new Dial Soap for Men. I'm freshly bathed. Rugged.
I learned something. Walking into that bear proved it's also bad luck to not kill a cricket. Jiminy.
I went back inside, thrilled Morty hadn't darted outside like he did for the first time ever last week. I had the cricket in my hand and put him out at the downstairs door. Plan B. (Bear)
The bear lounged at the big tree near our wellhouse for about 15 minutes. He stood up twice and appeared to be rubbing himself/herself against the tree. He is massive, standing 6-8 feet tall, maybe more. He's certainly taller than me and it's prom season.
Eventually, he got up and walked into the woods behind our wellhouse. I made the comment he looked "as big as a buffalo" and I ain't talking nickels. That could've been shadows enhancing his size, but he certainly is big enough to do damage.
It's been 3½ days since the spotting. I guess it's safe to go sleep now.
Update: That's what I thought until I pulled back the bedcovers. I had walked into my teddy bear.
He snarled at me, but I can't be sure. I'll mull it over this pot of coffee....
