My Buddy, the Bear
If you have never heard the Jimmy Buffet classic “Gods Own Drunk”, I suggest you give it a listen.
It will put bears into a new perspective, guaranteed to enlighten.
We have lived in the California Sierra’s now for about 10 years and I have never seen a bear full on live and in person. Susie has had multiple introductions, to my chagrin. Makes me a bit jealous I have to inform you. I mean heck, the California state flag has a bear on it, my favorite California college team is the Cal Bears and I’m the rugged outdoorsman, not Susie.
Right???
Well, be careful of what you wish for…
One evening, bout’ a month ago, the dogs started a racket and Susie and I stepped outside to see, yep, you guessed it, Buddy the bear. He was a Kodiak lookin’ fella, about 19 feet tall…Wait, that’s how “Gods Own Drunk” goes… I digress…
Seriously, on the driveway about 30 yards from the house, sauntering up the gravel, was Buddy. I shined the flashlight on him (her?) and it took off. We have an eighty foot Ponderosa pine in the back of the house and this beast climbed straight up 30 or 40 feet in nothin’ flat. Like a pure “D” dumbass, I started walking out to said tree. The scotch I was sipping on, said, “Go head, get a little closer”. I could see Buddy’s eyes in the dark night and he (again she?) was backing down the tree a little slower than it went up, but too fast for me. I went in the house.
Thinking I had a story to tell, I felt proud of my tale and my resourceful manliness. I told the story like Kevin Costner does in “Dances With Wolves”, when he wows the tribe of his tatonka tale. Friends and neighbor’s eye’s bulged out with amazement when I relayed my wilderness experience. Once more, be careful what you… Well, you know…
The other night Susie was dog sitting for some clients and me & the girls (Annie the Red and Zoe the miniature horse) were home alone. Once more Annie starts wailing at the back sliding glass door. I grabbed the flashlight (a steadfast practice I now do when I venture out at night) and not twenty feet from is my pal. Buddy scurried up a small oak tree about ten feet or so and stared intently at me. I was frozen still, but started backing up slowly when it slowly grappled down the tree. It loped, no, galloped to that same pine tree and literally ran straight up the tree about 30 feet. I say galloped because the sound of its paws hitting the ground sounded like a race horse covering some ground, coming down the back stretch. “Thud, thud, thud”. Buddy eventually came down the tree and I pondered now that he might now fear me and would never be seen again. Ha…
I waited about an hour and as Elmer Fudd does so carefully, was vewy, vewy qwuiet as I stealthly ventured out. This time Buddy was on the driveway again. I threw some rocks at him, and I swear he picked them up and tossed them back at me. I soon realized that I needed a new plan.
Buddy skulked behind another big pine tree, poked his head around the tree like it was spying on me. Once more my bravado got the best of me. I walked toward the tree and raised my arms above my head to make myself look bigger. I mean, that’s what all the wilderness survival guides say you’re supposed to do, right?
What happened next was not what is supposed to have happened. The bear is should be alarmed and frightened by the sight of a human with outstretched arms slowly approaching. At least that’s what all outdoorsy experts say. Stupid back country books…
Buddy slowly creeped around the tree and at an easy pace, took about 2-3 steps towards me. You know when you see a scared person in the movies piss down their leg and it puddles at their feet? Well, that’s not far from the truth. I started crawfishin’ backwards, just about tripped over a tree stump and skedaddled to the house. I even locked the door. I mean you never know; this bear might have been pretty dexterous.
The girls had not been outside to squat and pee since about 7:00 and I told them, “Sorry ladies, daddy’s not going outside until tomorrow.” I of course did not have to relieve myself at that moment…
Thus, my wish to see a bear in the wild had been fulfilled. I could now sit around the campfire and tell tales of my adventures and watch people stare at me in dis-belief. I was now a man among men, where children looked up to me in awe and adults came to me, hat in hand. Jim Bridger, John Muir and Leonardo DiCaprio bowed to me in respect.
I was bona fide, to quote Penny Wharvey McGill in “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou”.
I still scan the ridges and the valleys, keeping an eye out for Buddy. Both our lives are now entwined. We are one, Buddy and I…
