The Unexpected Calling Card

I know that some individuals will think that the subject of this column will have some metaphorical implications, that is, it may reflect on the voracity of some of the things I have written about. I will admit that I have approached many diverse topics, some being out there a touch but this one, while having certain olfactory tones is for real and confirmable by close observation. Here is the truth. Just today my wife of almost fifty years stepped into our very small forest we have in the back of our garden. Her task was to water a May Apple that is growing there trying to be a spectacular spring ephemeral. In her struggle to find the plant known to be growing in the maple sapling-surrounded duff, she approached a huge White Pine. She came to an abrupt stop, looking down in disbelief, for there on the leaf-covered floor was a large deposit, shall we say calling card, of an animal of considerable size. 

“David”, she yells. “You won’t believe what I think I see. I don’t believe it. This is incredible”. Initially, I though she had found a huge nest of Deer Ticks because just the day before she had, indeed, found a Deer Tick and it was attached to a part of her anatomy that we cannot really discuss here. Embarrassingly (no pun), it was on her back side and had to be removed---by me. No, she did not find a tick nest. Not another Fox Snake because that would have elicited a bigger yell. Most interestingly, she stumbled upon a very large, very black, seed filled pile of she-she, better known in scientific terms as a turd (recall the opening statement). She was apprehensive, maybe repulsed, possibly racked with retro-fear, but noticeably amused. It was as if the not-to-old, but not steaming pile, might jump up and attach itself to her. We looked closely having seen numerous turds in our lives, both metaphorical and real, so that we might be able to determine the nature of the depositor. We looked at each other, remembering our years on the ranch, and both, with eyes wide, said Bear----and not a little one. While we did not run our fingers through it as if doing a forensic analysis, nor fondle it noting content and age, nor sniff it, there was little doubt. We had a Bear turd pile of some magnitude. We were both thinking we lived in very civil community with highly trained public servants managing the village greens and its wildlife---mostly squirrels and rabbits. It is cosmopolitan and almost like a city with a fire department, village trucks with logos on them. The citizens have things like TVs and cellular phones. So how can it be we have a Black Bear living among us? We were confused so it was off to Merlyn’s to see if her “talking” dog had had any unusual experiences in the last ten days (I had determined the calling card was at least a week old due to the dryness of the outer edges of the deposit---this close examination that did not involve smelling or tasting). Savanna, the semi-literate dog, is attentive and will on many occasions bark in the middle of the night when she thinks lurking criminals are about, or more commonly, if a mouse runs across the road. One would figure if the lousy dog was worth its salt, if a four hundred pound bear walked right by her house, there would have been a ruckus---the aforementioned spectacular turd was only twenty five feet from Merlyn’s house. In making my inquiry, I did not mention our suspicions wanting to test my theory. It turns out a few days earlier and in the appropriate time range, Savanna had an uncomfortable experience. In the middle of the night the protective mutt began to bark and bark. Low and behold, in the morning there on the floor of the house, was a fresh calling card left by the dog---an unwanted pile never left before. The dog had indeed detected the presence of the bruin, and probably thinking it was a Grizzly Bear, literally soiled herself. Merlyn seemed relieved, maybe even proud, for rather than the dog just becoming senile, it had simply been emotionally overwhelmed---and saved the day, chasing off the blood-thirsty bear. If the canine could really talk, I am sure she would have said, “I smelled this God-awful stench, looked out the window and there looking back at me, only inches away, was this grinning mouthful of teeth. Man, I lost control. Sorry about the little mess”. After thinking this all through, we had to come to the realization that even though we do live in this highly sophisticated community where we are all safe, surrounded by citizens well above average and mostly, like myself, very attractive, we are still not so citified, or gentrified that wild nature cannot just pass through town largely unnoticed. My only concern, and it has nothing to do with our highly skilled police force, (oh, we don’t have one) will not be able to protect us, but if some of the citizens should happen to see a Black Bear in the backyard, number one, they don’t shoot it, or probably more importantly, don’t follow Savanna’s example and leave a calling card on the floor or in one’s trousers. We closed the door more carefully, locked the garbage in the garage and removed the half-eaten burger from the car. Again I will say, although I have been know to enhance, I do hope this topic has no symbolic connotations as to my truthfulness-------nor any indication of what the Packers have to deal with this year.