How many of you recall (as a kid) going to the town dump to watch the bears?
I was fortunate to come from an area that was very backward looking. My kids, who are now in their 30s, were able to watch the bears at the local dump well into their teens when we made our annual pilgrimages to my hometown. Butterfinger bars always seemed to be bear's favorite treats.
I've been around bears my whole life. Few have done anything seriously bad.
Growing up, my mother would chase bears away from the apple trees and berry patches by hollering and banging a wooden spoon on the back of her 10-inch cast iron frying pan.
When I was six or seven, we had a bear seriously damage our new Willys Overland (4WD SUV of the 50s). It was early autumn, and we figure the bear was drunk from eating fermented berries. My dad worked the 4:00 to 12:00 shift on the railroad. When he drove into our farm's driveway in the early AM, the bear went round and round the vehicle, butting the doors and fenders with his head.
A few years later, my uncle bought a new station wagon. They didn't close the tailgate after they finished bringing groceries into the house. A bear crawled into the back of the station wagon for a nap. If I can find the photos, I'll post. That same bear also ripped out the kitchen window to get the bacon grease pot off the counter near the stove.
If a bear comes to visit -- offer some hospitality. Give it a honey pot or a bowl of berries. Don't make them sit and wait, and don't make them feel like they aren't welcome at the dinner table.
I need to go hug a tree. Maybe I can even get a bear hug!
