Bears

How did she know that yesterday was the first day of spring?  Right on schedule, last night, she made her annual pilgrimage to my bird feeder and proceeded to knock it down, bending the iron pipe that secured it to the ground.  Despite the fact that black bears can go 100 days without eating, drinking, pooping, peeing or exercising, they are pretty darn hungry when they wake up.  It is interesting to note that the feeder contained the last of my birdseed for the season, so her timing was spot on.

We have a "problem" with black bears here in the northwestern corner of New Jersey.  In my view, the problem is over-development, not bears.  As everything is politicized these days, there is division between pro- and anti- bear hunt groups.  I refuse to take a position on this.  While I cannot imagine killing one of these gorgeous animals, I am acquainted with some very responsible hunters who make use of their kill.

A couple of summers ago, I awoke one night to the sound of footsteps on gravel outside my bedroom.  When I flicked on the outside lights, there was a mama bear, making her way up onto my deck.  Through the screen door, I admonished her:  "You go away now!"  And she did, sauntering back down the steps.  My neighbors, who'd had a visit from her as well, told me that she was with her two cubs.  (She must have made them wait in the driveway while she checked out my house.)  Bottom line?  I would rather have a bear and her cubs trespassing on my property at night than any human intruders.

Teddy bears were de rigueur when I was a kid.  That stuffed animal, named after Theodore Roosevelt, was bestowed upon nearly every child born post-WWII, and I was no exception.  I still have Teddy, and you can tell by looking at him that he has been quite loved.  He went to college with me and has moved as many times as I have.

I remember when I was quite little, I drew a picture of my teddy bear.  I proudly showed it to my parents.  Instead of telling me what a good job I'd done, they laughed quite heartily.  I was crushed.  When I came across the drawing years later, I got it.  Although you cannot see it in this picture, my teddy has a tail.  Paying attention to detail, I drew that tail, right where I could see it . . . between Teddy's legs.

So how could you not be in love with an animal that gets to sleep for 100 days, waking up for a short spell in January to give birth and then go right back to sleep?  Sounds like a good plan to me.