the bears are back in town…

Last week, they began having picnics in our backyard. We would wake up to a giant pile of trash—which they’d dragged over from the restaurant across the street—all scattered across the lawn. They love that spot in the corner. In the trees. One morning we saw one of them scampering away in the early dawn.

In the middle of the night, the dog woke us up and scratched the door. This was weird. This time of year, he doesn’t go out at night. Usually. He seems to know there are creatures out, and he’s a big boy — he can hold it. Still, we thought perhaps he had a tummy ache, so I opened the door for him, and he raced across the yard, barking a deep-growly bark that I’d never heard. Apparently, he was trying to scare the bear away. In the meantime, I yelped his name, and T leapt out of bed, and we bumped heads in a moment of chaos. T ended up with a big blood blister, poor fellow, but the dog came bounding back in one piece, scared out of his wits. He was the only one who got to see Mr. Bear up close.

The city told us there are two ‘275ers’ and one ‘400′ in town. We aren’t sure which one(s) have invaded our back yard, but I’m determined to get a photo before the summer ends…