Rural Terrorists

Yesterday morning I walked outside and was attacked.

Several angry hummingbirds flew at my face and eyes.  "What in the...!" I shouted. I looked up on the second floor deck and sure enough, the feeders were empty.  "Sorry guys.  I'll be right up there." and I took the jug of home-made nectar up to fill the feeders.  When I stepped out on the porch, there was someone already out there.  Oops.  Wait...  We didn't have any guests the previous night.

"Excuse me.  Can I help you?" I asked the sleeping form on the couch.

The still very groggy homeless gentleman said "I climbed up the wall to sleep up here last night." "That's nice" I told him. "You need to leave now.  Why don't you come inside and go down the  stairs to leave, rather than climbing down the side of the building."

He packed up his pack, and headed down and left through the front door.

Very strange.  We've been here for over 22 years now, and that's a first.
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This morning I woke up just before 4:am.  I lay in bed for a bit and got up to get a drink of water.  I was just snuggling back in to go back to sleep when the dog barked.

The dog barked.  One "Woof".  In the 5 years we have had this dog, she has NEVER barked in the bedroom.  Ever.

"Crap" I thought. "The homeless guy is back."  Only the dog was facing the other way.  She was looking at the bathroom with it's open window.

And then I heard the bear.

Sort of a long low moaning and huffing... I've heard it before  I reached for the half open bathroom window and SHOUTED!!!

Actually, I screamed like a little girl, because just as I opened the window, a clawed ball of fur hit me in my bare chest, HARD!  Damn cat was watching the bear out the fricken window.

When I caught my breath I shouted out the window again, pulled on pants, boots and, at Juanita's suggestion, a sweatshirt, and headed out with my shotgun. (When we first moved up here, the Colorado Dept. of Wildlife recommended people keep a shotgun handy loaded with rubber buckshot for this sort of thing.)

Juanita and I wandered around for a while, making noise and shining the flashlights around and we saw nothing.   We went back inside, and I replaced the batteries in the shotgun's barrel mounted flashlight/laser pointer sight, and then we went back out again.  Still nothing.  I was just getting ready to head back in when I heard him again.  That low moaning and huffing.  Behind me.  Up high.  In the dark.  In a big tree.

I shown the flashlight into the big ponderosa pine tree, and could just make out the eyes of a black bear reflecting down at me.

Okay, now what..  Shoot the bear in the face?  That just doesn't seem polite.  Juanita found a better angle. Only butt showing.

BOOM!

Okay, let's clear out so he can leave.  Make it easy for him to do the right thing.

We went up on the back deck and listened to him.  He moaned pretty loudly for about 15 minutes or so, and then we heard it shuffle down the tree, and he was gone.  I felt terrible, but it's important that bears are afraid of town and the people in it.  If they become a nuisance, the DOW will put them down.   And I don't mean by telling them that they smell bad, or that their mother dresses them funny.

And speaking of unpleasant smelling and odd clothes...

As I am finishing this story, I realized something about myself.  I am guilty of "Species Privilege".

It never even occurred to me to shoot the homeless guy in the butt.

(But, in my defense, the guy wasn't after my chickens...)


Bill