Here's the Scoop: June 25, 2014

Still can’t bear it
By popular demand, I’m going to continue my bear tale this week. The fact that I’m around to write about the bear again should be a clue that nothing too bad has happened. Yet.
As noted last week, this is not your ordinary dig-through-your-garbage and leave a mess bear. No. This fellow (I’m guessing here) doesn’t seem to recognize the unwritten rules of human-bear encounters. Humans are allegedly smarter than bears. That point is certainly up for discussion. When was the last time you saw a bear running up exorbitant mobile phone charges because it didn’t read the contractual fine print about “roaming” charges?
Anyhow, no one is going to argue that bears are generally bigger and stronger than people. They “smell like a bear, too.” That’s why we’re afraid of them.
While I find bears really cool (in a big-clawed, furry way), my wife looks at the matter a bit more practically. She likes to remind me of the power these critters possess. The unpredictable nature of this one fellow now has us both a bit rattled. It’s like he’s on Bear-oids. Because of this, he may not get voter support for the Hall of Fame, but he sure is putting up some impressive statistics.

Is that a...bear?
As a result of his recent feats of climbing, stalking, overturning stuff and glaring with a quizzical look, rocks, stumps — pretty much everything in the yard — is starting to look like a bear, upon quick glance. You could say we’re becoming bear-anoid.
We were having dinner the other night with some friends from the neighborhood and shared some of the antics of the brazen bear. The next morning, we awoke to an e-mailed photo of an overturned cooler on our friends’ porch. My initial reaction was, “Wow, I hope none of those beers got broken!”
My second thought was: “I’ve heard that bears don’t have great eyesight. I’m sure he thought the bottles read: ‘Bear’.”
This bit of logic made me feel a bit better — until another friend sent a photo of our furry pal climbing up the side of a neighbor’s house. Bear-anoia was in full swing. Doors and windows are being locked even during a quick trip to the car parked in the driveway. Any excursion into the great outdoors has also become a scouting mission. It’s much like that TV show “Bearwatch” that was popular in the 1990s. Minus the bathing suits. Wait, I’m confused — that show was “Barewatch.”
No matter, the bottom line is that we’re on high alert, afraid this creature may not fully understand that houses are for people. My guess is this clever fellow might dispute that logic with a response like: “Oh, yeah, why do a lot of houses have ‘dens’ then?” Good question, indeed.
— Brian Sweeney