Grin And Bear It

Grin And Bear It

My old shotgun seemed heavier than I remembered, but it had been quite a while since I'd had any occasion to use it. I grabbed a couple of double 00 buck cartridges and squeezed through the door ahead of the dogs.

I wanted to make sure that Mister Bear, who had been stuffing himself on our Braeburn apples wouldn't try and have a little doggie desert. The dogs showed their displeasure at being left behind, whining and scratching on the door, after all, it was time for their morning pee.

We hadn't seen the bear yet, although our neighbor Charlene saw it go over the fence into our yard and called us with a “heads up”. The next morning we found several piles of bear crap under the apple tree and we saw that the fence had a big sag in it where the bear had bulled his way over it.

I broke open the ancient Western Field 12 gauge, dropped a shell into the chamber, closed it up and stepped off the deck onto the wet grass. My head lamp lit a yellow circle ahead of me and I could see my breath in the dim beam of light.

Nervously, I walked toward the apple tree where Mr. Bear had left his calling cards, and sure enough there was a fresh pile. I swiveled my head back and forth to illuminate the shadows looking for a reflection of eyes or something that looked bearish.

I walked the perimeter of the yard without seeing anything except shadows, and just as I was starting to relax, a loud racket over my head made me jump and almost leave a calling card of my own. When my heart slowed back down I realized that I had spooked a flock of birds that had been roosting in one of our willow trees. I could hear the dogs scratching on the door to get out and do their business so I let them out and watched over them while they ran around sniffing this strange new visitor's odor.

We'll have apples getting ripe on another tree up into December, so I guess I'll just have to grin and ….. ..!