Bear Story 3 (Part 2) Why I am not Fond of Bears
Dear Grand-kids… my next episode
It was very dark when the girls parked at their campsite. No one winked at me so I went to look for my tent. But darn it, I didn’t have my flashlight with me. Not that it was in my tent either. No, my flashlight was in my desk, in my bedroom, back in Windsor, along with other stuff I needed, like a warm sleeping bag. And a change of socks.
I wandered around blindly looking for my tent. I didn’t know where it was. It didn’t know where I was either.
Lonely and forlorn in the mountains, I was about to give up when I bumped into some people who may have been some of those hippie types. They were drinking something called Newfoundland tea. I agreed to try some, mainly because the fire was warm and I was lost. The tea tasted like bird bath water so when these hippies weren’t looking, I dumped my mug out. One of the girls winked at me so I decided to leave.
An hour later (or it could have been a week), I found my tent. It was torn to shreds. And there was a note pinned to it. But I didn’t have a flashlight, as I mentioned - I couldn’t read the note. So, I crawled under what was left of my tent and went to sleep.
In the morning, I read the note. It was signed by a park ranger. It said that a bear had tried to get into my tent looking for food. As it was only a pup tent, the bear was too big to use the tent flap. Which in any event was tied closed. (I understand bears aren’t good at untying knots). That was why the bear went through the top. But it got tangled up in the nylon and made a mess of things. Darn bears seldom clean up after themselves.
I felt the ranger’s implied criticism was unfair. I would have explained that I didn’t keep food in my tent but the ranger was not there to hear my rebuttal.
Now that I was awake, I needed to find the restroom. I rummaged around looking for my toothpaste. Turns out the bear ate it. (I guess some bears are worried about bad breath after all).
To conclude, I am not fond of bears.
Love Grandpa.
PS In case you are wondering, these are ‘exactly as it happened’ stories, the kind you’ve heard about. Do you think this would make a good documentary?
Note: This bear habitat is my painting, selected by my orthodontist 7 years ago for his contest calendar. The rest of the pictures weren’t nearly as good though to be fair the other entrants were in grade school.
