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Showing posts from April, 2009

Civilian Bear Drill

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Now is the time when skinny animals show up in wooded backyards to forage fearlessly. White-tailed deer, though they gnaw my bushes, are a pleasurable sight. Even red foxes, with their reputation for eating wise-cracking, cocky gingerbread men are viewed with marvel. It’s not that unusual to have black bear visit here in semi-rural Wisconsin. Last year, a bear was seen within 100 yards of our school bus stop: “What did you do ?” I asked, fearfully, hearing the story retold. “We kinda said to ourselves, “Hey—is that a bear?”” my friend said. “We thought it was a dog,” another friend added. “Do we have some kind of ‘bear’ drill, in case that happens again?” A bear that hibernated through the winter we just had, wouldn’t wait for a honey pot from Piglet, either. If I were “Reawakened-Bear-Hungry,” I’d might eat a mail box, take bites out of a sharking boat, or a gobble down a whole box of Girl Scout cookies. A real hungry bear might view my child