Bear Trap
Posted: Tuesday, November 25, 2008
by Lin Stone
Tale Wins
We had a big bear that didn't have sense enough to let well enough alone. Usually we let bears run free up here but Old Smokey decided to give up a life of accidental menus and took to doing a buffet special on our tender little calves.
When the dogs saw Old Smokey, they ran. When we called the Game and Fish Department the guy on the phone stuttered into silence for a long moment then said: "We can't track him down for you, but if you can show us where he is we'll come and get him."
Well, fry Wee Willy for an oyster because he came up with a plan. He pursed his lips thoughtfully as he hung up the phone then asked if I still had that five gallons of Skippy Peanut Butter?
"No, all I have left is three gallons."
He shrugged. "You get it out and drag out our surge mixer and I'll go into town, be back in a few minutes."
True to his words, Wee Willy was back in a few minutes, smiling with his lips, eyes narrowed. Into my five gallon bucket of peanut butter he poured a whole bottle of Jack Daniels. Then we mixed it until you couldn't see anything but peanut butter.
Then we took the bucket down to where Old Smokey was dining on uncooked beef. Wee Willy was grinning when we set the bucket down. "Old Smokey is just about to get hot under the collar."
We checked for damages the next day, nothing. The second day, nothing. The third day it was hard to tell if any residue there was part of our peanut butter bucket. There were pieces strewn everywhere, and not a spot of peanut butter to be found.
Wee Willy circled one way and sent me another. Directly he hollered. "Come on over here, I found him."
Sure enough, there was Old Smokey. All four feet were sticking straight up in the air and he was snoring up a big storm. Wee Willy nudged the bear with his cowboy boot and there wasn't even a grunt. We went back to the truck for some rope and a winch.
It was kind of a ticklish job and I was breathing real hard by the time we got the bear tied front paws to back paws and curved around a fair sized oak. Wee Willy was grinning like a possum when he called Fish and Game. "We have found Old Smokey. Yawl come and get him."
Two of them arrived a few hours later, suspicious as they could be. "Where is he?"
We took them up the hard way and led them to the rock-strewn hill side that looked down at Old Smokey. "What's he doing?" they asked, more suspicious than ever.
"I guess he's sleeping," said Wee Willy. "He's had a hard night of it."
We stayed where we were and watched them slip and slide down the hill. The closer they got to Old Smokey the more suspicious they became. When they got right down to him they walked around and around that oak tree, trying to figure out why Old Smokey was ignoring them. Every few steps one of them would stop, turn his head and look back up the hill at us.
Finally one of them got brave enough to walk up and touch one of the knots on the rope. Then they walked around and around the oak tree and studied Old Smokey from every angle, and then they conferred, glancing our way frequently. Decision reached, they came scrambling back up the hill towards us.
"We'll need you to help us load him."
Wee Willy lashed out at them indignantly. "We found him; we even tied him up for you, it's your turn to do something."
the end
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