Week 21: Current Events
Mama taught my brother and me a lot in our short time together.
Especially about humans. "Boys," she would say, "those two legs are more dangerous than we are." She liked to refer to humans as "those two legs," even though we could get up on two legs as well. "Everyone thinks that us bears are the threat. But we are not."
Mama was always right.
One of our favorite things to do with Mama was walk next to a path at this one park. We were usually able to hide in the bushes, and spy on the humans. Mostly, we went unseen. Every once in awhile, we'd hear a startled scream, or shriek, and know we were spotted.
Mama was always the typical "Mama Bear," protecting us, her cubs. Not that she was vicious, the way some humans would have you believe. If one of those two legs came close to my brother or me, Mama would either let out a deep growl, or show her teeth (some times both). Then we would see how fast those two legs could run!
There was one time, though--I guess all it takes is one time--where Mama crossed the line. The three of us were on the path, enjoying the feel of the sun on our fur. Usually, we can hear or smell a woman before we even see them, and scurry into the bushes to hide. But for some reason, this time a human and her dog snuck up on us.
The human had a look of fear in her eyes; we recognized the look right away. She screamed, and my brother and I hurried into the bushes, peeking out to see what would happen.
The human's dog started to bark and would not stop. We watched the dog stretch and strain to get to us. The woman yanked on the leash, while yelling at Mama. Mama's eyes were on the dog. I know that she was worried it would attack us.
Mama growled, snarled, and bared her teeth, but the dog wouldn't let up. When the dog took one big lunge, Mama had enough. She reacted, and swiped at the dog. Unfortunately, she missed and scratched the human instead.
I could tell right away that this was bad. Very bad. Mama backed off and cowered like she was the one who got scratched. She let out a slow growl, and slowly walked into the bushes with my brother and me.
Things seemed to go in slow motion at that point. Mama was keeping us close, and she seemed very sad. She kept telling us over and over, "I love you boys. Never forget that.0
After some time, the bushes started to shake. Mama shooed us away. "Boys, you don't want to be here right now. Go. Be good. Stay away from those two legs."
Listening to Mama, my brother and I walked away. We kept looking back, though.
I wish we didn't.
We watched as a few humans surrounded Mama. She looked so defeated. She had no growls or snarls to give. We watched her stagger a bit before dropping to the ground. My brother let out a cry.
I couldn't do anything but stare at my lifeless Mama lying on the ground. All she did was try to protect us. She didn't mean to scratch or hurt anyone.
My brother and I were spotted by the few two legs that killed Mama. They walked over to us, probably trying to decide if we were a threat. At six months old, we looked harmless.
As they walked away, Mama's warnings played in my head. "Don't trust those two legs."
The article that inspired this entry is here:
https://www.google.com/amp/s/patch.com/connecticut/simsbury/amp/27119638/black-bear-euthanized-after-scratching-woman-in-simsbury-park