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On a recent Sunday as I lay enjoying a lazy afternoon nap, I dimly heard a thud and some rustling about downstairs. With three illtempered, vandalistic cats living under my roof, I figured I would come down to find some new bit of feline wreckage. Not wanting to face the damage just yet, I put the pillow over my head, squeezed my eyes shut and tried to go back to sleep. At that moment, the phone rang, and I hopped out of bed and ran downstairs in my underwear to get it before voicemail picked up.
After taking care of business on the phone, I was about to head back upstairs when I heard some loud rustling from the laundry room. It was too much noise to be a cat, so I prepared myself to shoo a raccoon out the back door. I went into the kitchen and was about to open the door to the laundry room when an ENORMOUS black bear pushed open the door and looked into the kitchen, about three feet from my barefoot, underwear clad self.
She was a VERY healthy Mama Bear with whom I've been dealing with for several
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