When you are in Alaska, if you don’t have a bear story, you know someone who does. I’ve already blogged about the birthday party from hell, or at least Alaska. At that party, two bears broke through the front door of a kids’ event. The mother of the birthday girl shot one bear in the doorway. Then, she climbed over the dead carcass and ran outside after the second invader. In the end, the score was two dead bears to one everlasting story.
I had my own brief encounter, but I slept through the whole event. In my sister’s home is an enclosed porch where they put their trash. A mere set of very fragile French doors separate that porch from the living room where I slept. I never heard the bear that broke into the porch to eat the feast set before him. No, I didn’t hear a peep or ravenous growl. But, in the morning, I certainly saw the mess in the porch and down a path into the Alaskan tundra. Bears are not tidy eaters.
Now, last season, my sister had Alaska’s best bear story – at least in my mind. One night, at two in the morning, she got up to go to the bathroom (as so many of us need to do). When she was finished with her “business”, she heard an unusual noise in the lodge. She went to investigate. Already, it was a foolish thing to do. That kind of investigation is for husbands and adult sons. But, nope, my sister went to investigate. And, that’s when she found a grizzly bear in her kitchen.
Of course, she did. Who wouldn’t? And, very fortunately, she’d already gone to the bathroom or she might have wet her pants. Who wouldn’t do that too? Anyway, she screamed. Very fortunately, the bear was facing the exit to the kitchen. When my sister screamed like an Alaskan banshee, the bear immediately ran out the open door. In my mind, that’s a much better option than slashing my sister to death.
Events like this must be reported to the proper authorities. Bears that break into homes are no longer afraid of humans. They must be put down. Of course, this news delighted my nephew. He was itching to go bear hunting. I’m not sure how you can accurately determine which bear was the correct space invader, but somehow he knew.
This season, a bear skin rug is proudly displayed in the lodge. My nephew boasts, “This is the bear that could have slashed my mother to death, and I shot it!” There is a lesson to be learned here: If you are a guest at my sister’s place, do not raid the kitchen at night. However, if you still feel you need to do that, stay away from my nephew.