Bear Wisdom

By Sarah Minick

09/16/2008

With arms stretched high above my 5'2" frame, I run onto our deck and yell in a loud, but calm voice, "That's MY corn. That's MY garden. Get out. Go away, and don't come back!" From inside, I heard the sharp thwack of snapping corn stalks like the pop of a small gun. And now a hundred yards away, I am shocked to see a mother black bear and her two cubs having breakfast on our ripening yellow kernels. I watch her for a minute in stunned silence-to see a bear in the wild is a magical experience. But I know the worst thing people can do is feed and humanize bears. When people and bruins become too familiar, the bears lose, often with their lives.

Then I remember that's my corn! So I stand tall and try to look even taller by raising my arms. I don't wave them or scream nonsense syllables. Sometimes bears don't recognize us and become confused, and a confused bear turned curious may venture closer to investigate. I want this mama to have no questions that indeed I am a human being, and indeed she is invading my turf. I holler for her to leave, and it works. She walks to the garden's edge, her two cubs following, her sleek profile shining midnight black in the morning sun. One cub stands on his hind legs, sniffing the wind, trying to figure out the danger. Then I bellow again, "I am a human. Take your cubs and leave." The troop turns and trots away, disappearing into the canopy of leaves.

Human-bear conflict occurs more often these days because many people now live in bear territory. Most of these interactions don't harm humans. Linda Masterson, author of Living with Bears, explains, "There are approximately 900,000 black bears in North America. Every year people have millions of interactions with black bears. Yet between 1900 and the summer of 2005 records reveal just 57 people in North America were killed by black bears." She continues, "To put that in perspective, 50 people in the United States die every year from bee stings."

Conflicts often occur during warmer months when bears try to fill their hungry stomachs just about any way possible. Backyard birdfeeders, trashcans, and pet food bowls become prime targets-lots of calories for little work. If people take this food away, usually the bears move on.

"Most people want to be thin," reports Masterson. Yet "all bears want to be fat." To make it through their long hibernation, black bears eat ravenously when berries and acorns ripen. According to Masterson, these creatures "forage up to 20 hours a day, trying to get the 20,000 or more calories they need to gain 3 to 5 pounds a day."

Sometimes people mistakenly think bears are fat furry creatures meant to provide entertainment. My dental hygienist told me they had a bear visiting their trashcans during the night. After their son's birthday party, her husband purposefully propped the leftover cake on top of the trashcan and then went out later to view the show. Luckily the bear had moved on and didn't attend this second party. Purposeful feeding of bears is highly unwise and can be illegal. If a bear loses its fear of humans, it must often be killed. As the saying goes, "A fed bear is usually a dead bear."

When human-bear encounters increase, people can help keep bears safe and in the wild. Bring in bird feeders in the summer months or string them so they are bear proof. Empty outside trashcans promptly, and enclose them to keep bears out. Also remove pet food bowls after feeding so that no kibble remains for other creatures.

Finally keep in mind that "the best way to deal with bear conflicts is to prevent them from happening by making sure bears aren't attracted to your home, yard, car, or neighborhood," says Masterson. She continues, "If you live in bear country, you and the bears are sharing space. Your job is to make sure the bear doesn't find any reason to linger at your place."

In my garden an hour after mama bear and her cubs depart, I am surprised by another discovery: bears eat corn just like we do. I imagined the creature chomping down through husk to devour kernel and cob whole. But not so. While she sat among the broken stalks, her massive claws delicately peeled back the husk. Then she nimbly cleaned each kernel from the cob, even rotating it between her paws to get the last bite.

I relish my memory of this visiting trio of beautiful creatures, but in the future, we're guarding our patch with an electric fence.