The Magnificent Beast

The magnificent beast peered out from behind the bars of the bear trap/cage, huffing and clicking his jaw while puffing out his breath as he swayed within the metal.  Two small black eyes full of beauty, anger and fear starred back as my gaze fell upon the creature.  For a moment, I was completely still- everything around me had suspended time into an infinite frozen moment and this one small instant was entrancing and boundless.  We’d come here today to witness biologists at work to make life a little better for this wild bear.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got the message that it was happening.  I’d formed bonds with some Washington State wildlife biologists and wardens and admired and enjoyed their work.  Secretly, my heart had always been in their field, but my stubborn left brain would never quite focus my efforts.  Instead, I stood along the side of “Wildlife Work River,” pacing the shoreline and wading in as far as I could go.  Today I was invited to witness a hard-release on a young black bear who had become too habituated in backyards.  As luck would have it, my Sister, her husband and their two young sons were in town for the last day of their visit.  They too, would get to experience the discovery of the fabled creature of stories, legends and folklore.

We made our way back across the field back to the truck which the Warden drove.  He demonstrated how to pressurize a tranquilizer dart, mixing serums and vials and poking needles spitting fluid into the air. 

 At last, he was ready.  We all stood back as instructed and waited to see what the great beast would do.  “POP”- the dart hit.  “Not the best shot,” said the Warden.  The dart has missed the intended shoulder and struck the bear’s underarm.  Moments passed.  The cage wiggled and the vocalizing began. “Arr., arrrr,” the beautiful creature sang.  Was this a cry of pain, anger or frustration?  Likely, it was either anger or frustration.  The hide of a black bear can be inches deep and they are tough to penetrate.  Realizing the dart was of little use, the Warden tried again, this time to success.  Soon the beast was quiet and sleeping soundly.

A green tarp was hoisted out of a fish and game truck and the Warden and biologists slid it under the sleeping bruin.  

Several folks, including my husband and brother-in-law, helped carry the bear to the shade where we each were given a chance to help if we wished.  It was confirmed that the bear was a male, which was important information.  Residents in the area had spotted two bears in the same area and felt it was important to identify if it was a mother and cub.  Hunting season was to open in four days and a mother bear, especially needed to learn to be afraid of people.  There are far too many abandoned cubs when hunting season takes mothers.  Since the bear was deemed to be about two years old, the pair was likely siblings.

Justin, my sister’s oldest jumped right in to help, measuring teeth, length and girth with instruction from the biologist.  We took the bear’s temperature to see that it was adequately comfortable given the summer mercury. 

 

We kept a close eye on breathing constantly watching to ensure a healthy respiratory system and capillary refill.  We enjoyed taking pictures and I secretly whispered a few kind words in the bear’s ear.

After measuring, weighing and pictures, the beautiful sleeping creature was moved back to the safety of the trap where it was given medication to reverse the effects of the tranquilizers.  We watched and monitored it’s reaction until it lazily sat up and showed sings of an awakening.  The trap was closed again.

At that point the whole gang of wardens, biologists and observers headed back in to town for lunch in order to kill the 2 hours necessary for the bear to recover fully.

After lunch we headed back out to the trap.  The beast was stirring again, huffing and clicking his jaw.  Attention was turned to the next last and most important task at hand, teaching the bear to fear humans.  I was concerned about my emotions around this issue.  My heart broke for the trauma, fear and forceful approach the bear had to learn.  On the other hand, I thought of a hunter with a scope aimed squarely at our new friend and completely understood the necessity.  “This bear’s chance for survival,” explained Warden Richards, “is dependent on this.”  Two Karelian bear dogs were on scene for their most important day of work.  Years of special training and countless hours of instruction had Miska and Cash ready for moments like these and they were more than eager to teach this bear a lesson.  

The wildlife officials released the dogs and they bounded toward the trap with gusto, barking with a controlled ferociousness that even concerned the kids nearby.  These gentle dogs, which they’d played with earlier, were now savage, voracious and fixated on the metal trap before them.  

The anxious bruin huffed and clicked and swayed through the bars.  We were given specific instruction on how the event would take place.

The group of observers climbed into the bed of the safety of the pickup truck for front row seats.  The kids sat higher on the truck.  The Warden explained that our task must be to be as mean as possible. What earlier had been a wonderful bonding with our new friend must now awaken him to the world of hunting and unwanted human interference.  Trucks were pulled into view and the trap was moved with a strategic view of the child’s backyard swing set.  The more the bear associated human items with fear, the safer all would be in the long run.

Two wardens stood by with cracker shells in shotguns printed at the sky- this was specifically noise and fear.  One warden stood by with a bean bag gun pointed in the likely direction of travel.  This was intended to hit and mentally scar, but not injure the beautiful beast.  We were told to clap and yell as if we were trying to scare it out of a campground- it needed to hear a human voice during the commotion.  

Everyone was in place.  On the count of three the trap was opened and the strong black  bear went running, bounding with strength and speed towards the brush.  “Pop, Bang, Bang, Bark, Bark, Clap, Shout.”  The sounds was deafening.  

Then it was over.  Just like that.  The face to snout, hand to paw, heart to heart, once in a lifetime encounter had ended.  I felt pleased that we’d done our job of scaring him, and hoped from here on out his encounters with people would prompt a swift sprint back to the safety of the forest.

If possible the wardens will leave the bears in their familiar habitat instead of transporting them, if it’s safe and bear-worthy.  In this case, he was caught on a large residential parcel which backed up to a greenbelt and prime bear habitat.

I’ve always loved bears and felt a strong connection to them.  Not a cuddly teddy bear fascination, but the deepest depths of respect for their quiet, primeval peace.  I’m awed at their power and their strength and mesmerized by their solitude.  I’ve had many wild encounters and each time felt so privileged to be in their company.  On this day, I had touched, bonded and connected with not just this one bear, but through him, the thousands that roam the hills.  It was a peek into wild, untamed creatures and an experience that touched us all.