6.18.07

I was walking around in the forest this morning, whistling some happy tunes to myself, as black bears often do. First “Tiptoe Through the Tulips,” followed by a rousing rendition of “My Blue Heaven.” I’m known throughout the forests Warren County, New Jersey for this. Also for my ability to eat a whole tree when I set my mind to it.

You can do anything if you set your mind to it. My friend Ralph the Raccoon once stood in the path of a semi on route 80 and didn’t become road kill because he was meditating on not getting squished. That’s what he told me, and damn it, I believe him. He also told me his cousin is the Rocky Raccoon of Beatles fame. Ralph is the coolest guy I know. Bar none. But I digress.

I came upon some hikers. They had their big backpacks on, filled with granola bars and bear spray and all the usual accoutrements. Like usual, I went into this vivid fantasy where I get up on my back feet with my front paws stretched out so that I can put them on the fellow’s shoulders, and crush him into a quivering heap on the ground. Then I put my canines through his scull and let his warm salty blood flow down my tongue. I hear his companions scream like a bunch of little girls, and satisfied that the first hiker is incapacitated, I run after them, and with a swipe or two of my claws, bring them to the ground. They’re gasping for breath, but I just eat their stomachs whole. And damn, it feels good.

But I snapped out of it when they started ringing their bells in my face. I can’t stand those bells, so I ran away, and puked my guts out because I was so repulsed by what I had imagined. At the same time, I was ashamed of myself. Why couldn’t I eat a tourist? Just once. Of course I was hungry after the ordeal, so I walked toward town to find some garbage cans.

There’s one old couple that always shows me a fun time. They live in a little ranch house built on a slant so that the back deck is accessible by a staircase in the yard. I like climbing up on the deck just to see looks in the eyes of these geezers. Today they were banging on their windows and yelping and making fools of themselves... so I ate their bird feeder.

They were howling and making a fuss, so I took pity on them and wandered across the street and knocked over a garbage can. The contents spilled on the asphalt, among them an unopened bag of half-frozen pierogies. My kind of garbage can. I was clawing open the bag when the game warden came down the street in his big truck, at which point I took my leave.