Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL

Up the Creek Without a SWAT Team

Bear Scare
Continued From: "Up the Creek"

The best way to tell the story of our latest black bear visit may very well be through the actual emails I exchanged with Sally, our forest mate, residing in the cabin next door.

The first message arrived at 11:45 p.m. A period and five exclamation points is not a good sign.

There was just a HUGE bear on our deck eating the birdseed. ... Looked like it was going to your house.!!!!!

Sally


Gee. Great. Now, where did I put my primal scream?

I responded:

I noticed your lights on. I went out on our deck, too, and stood around a few minutes ago. Didn't see anything, although I may have heard some twigs and branches snapping around 11:30.

Then, I saw your email, so I will be on constant vigil until I collapse from exhaustion sometime Friday.


I'm a wimpy city boy who takes exception to a dangerous, behemoth omnivore in close proximity to my last gasping breath and unopened box of ice cream sandwiches.

Much to my surprise and horror, I soon realized Sally was enjoying the bear invader.

We got a picture!!!

I see you over there peeping out! Oh my, that was so exciting. I just hope we don't displace many bears by all this building, but I know we are.

Constant vigil, huh? ... Hahaha.

Sally


At 12:10 a.m., I spotted the bear. This email was on its way to Sally at 12:11.

He's under our security light at the well house at this very minute! And he's GIGANTIC!


No response. Obviously, end-of-our-world-as-we-know-it excitement only goes so far with Sally and Jim. They'd returned to Slumberland.

Me, I was bouncing off walls with nervous tension, the kind of exercise I usually get from guzzling coffee by the quart.

I was all alone.

The neighbors were sleeping.

My cats were sleeping.

My wife was away, sleeping.

My sleeping was awake, yawning, and weeping.

The bear was out there, either sleeping or not. Both involve big teeth and claws with my maim on them.


Next:
"Up the Creek Without a Jack Bauer"

Bear photo ©2007 Sally Smelcer
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