The Neonatals (Part 2) - The First Release

Time was of the essence.

That is a saying I have heard all too often but never truly understood the meaning, that is of course, until we were bestowed the neonatal cubs. As "fun" and as miraculous as it was to be caring for bear cubs that literally fit in the palm of your hand, their survival was directly related to how quickly we could find and place them with foster moms in the wild. So yes, if we wanted to give these bears their greatest chance of survival...time was truly of the essence.

Each passing day increased the chances

that a wild female would not be found.

We had been caring for the neonatals for almost two weeks and each passing day made it less likely that we'd be able to find a suitable foster mom. It was now mid-February and the wild bear mothers we were looking for had only another month or two before they would emerge from their den to greet the coming spring. If the bears were to emerge and become ambulatory all hopes to foster an orphan cub would be dashed because they would simply walk away from any cub that wasn't theirs. We desperately needed to find a healthy nursing mom still in her den.

When the call came that afternoon to "get a cub ready for the next morning," we could not have been happier.

Release Day

The dawn broke crisp the following morning and although it was overcast the news anchor gave us his word we would not be rained upon. In the back of my mind I couldn't help but wonder if he played a little trick on us knowing we were going high up in the mountains where the threat of rain is often replaced by the reality of snow. It mattered not, it was release day and no form of precipitation could dampen our spirits.

I went back into the makeshift nursery (a.k.a. the back bedroom) to gather Lina. She was the largest of the three neonatals so she was chosen the first to go.

Biologist Break - Unfortunately, in the mammal world, raising "kids" is a taxing endeavor not only on a female's mind but on her body as well. As great as it would have been to place all three neonatal's with the same foster mom she more than likely would not have been able to produce enough milk for three new additions (had we given all three). This added stress would undoubtedly have put all the cubs at risk, even her own natural cubs.

Lina, anxious to have a new mom.

So for now we were going to foster one cub at a time and lucky for Lina, her ticket was the first to be punched.

Although it was time for her feeding, the plan was to withhold the bottle that morning in hopes that her growing hunger would cause her to latch on to her new mom quickly and vigorously. Fortunately she still seemed content as I loaded her into my jeep and prepared her for the three-hour drive. Her new home was nestled deep in the mountains of the Cumberland Plateau, a wild and rugged area with a fledgling but growing bear population.

A few hours later I met the researchers at the park headquarters and was briefed on the planned activities. Having just received the call the day before I was pretty clueless as to what the day may hold, however, being a budding wildlife biologist I was all ears and I soaked it all in.

The Game Plan

Leslie, the biologist at Big South Fork, had located the bear the day before. In an effort to learn more about the newly established bear population, researchers had placed radio collars on numerous females and were anxious to record information on denning sites. The efforts finally paid off when Leslie had honed in on a den located in a hard-to-reach drainage strewn with a few blow-downs (toppled trees) with exposed root masses. Painting the mental picture in my head, it was easy to see why the pregnant female had chosen that location amongst the downed trees a few months prior. From the sound of it, such a site would provide the much needed warmth and protection the bear needed during the cold and barren winter months.

Keeping control of the cub

was no simple feat.

We drove to the trailhead which I soon found out was a sick joke since walking on an actual trail was not on the agenda. One does not realize how difficult cross-county trekking, or should I say cross county tripping, can be until they're forced to try it.  Now add the fact that your hands are cradling a sometime squirmy bear cub.

When we had finally reached the drainage where the den lie I was slightly disappointed in my minds eye since it completely missed the boat on what I was to encounter. It had painted a much rosier picture than what lay before us. I had pictured a few scattered trees, what lay before me was a scattered forest. The tangled web I imagined could better be described as a tangled mountain. It was absolutely beautiful. The perfect place to steal away for a long winters nap.

We began maneuvering our way through a giant-sized version of pick-up-sticks. Slowly but surely we made our way higher and higher and at last Leslie motioned to us that we were near. How she found the den that second day without the use of the tracking device I have no idea. Had it not been for the radio collar the day before it would've been like finding a needle in a haystack. Yet there the den lay about 20 feet in front of us, a small blackened hole beneath the root ball of a monarch of a tree.

A new collar and a check-up was in store for the sedated mom.

Frank and the other researchers went fast to work.

They meticulously loaded the drug into the jabstick that would deliver the much-needed insurance that mom would not arouse from her slumber while we intruded into her world. They assured me it is not much fun being wedged inside a bear den when mama bear begins to wake. It sounded as if they spoke from experience so I took them for their word.

Waiting quietly a good distance away they soon returned and assured me it was now safe to approach. Mom had been sedated. They now had a window of about thirty minutes in which to get their work done. This included taking measurements from within the den, replacing mom's collar, and recording vital statistics from mom and all three of her newborn cubs.

It was amazing.

Healthy newborns accompanied mom.

There I stood, deep in the forest, crouched at the entrance of a wild bear's den, about to be handed three tiny black bear cubs that were the spitting image of the one that was nestled fast asleep in the crook of my arm.

It was a flurry of activity and all I can say for sure was it went by way too fast.

I was in a trance-like state.

I was doing something from my wildest dreams. Dreams that began when I was a young child and dreams that carried me through life up to this exact point in time.

Even the cubs are weighed.

Before I knew it the words snapped my trance.

"Are you ready to place the cubs back in?"

This was the moment I had been hoping for.

With the help of the others we lined up all FOUR cubs and prepared them for their return to the darkened hole where mom awaited, deep in her slumber. But first we needed to prep the cubs.

The "preparation" was a little known trick to help ease the adoption of a newly placed orphan with a wild family. Out from within the confines of Frank's backpack came a fresh unopened jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub, the strong-smelling, chest-slathering menthol rub that most baby-boomers remember quite vividly. Ahhh...I can almost smell it now.

Lina getting the Vapo-Rub lathering before joining her new family.

Each cub received a healthy coating on its head and back, this included Lina AND each wild cub.

At first I didn't expect this. I figured Lina would be the only one covered to help mask her foreign scent, but why the other cubs?

The last cub getting prepped.

So I asked the question.

"It's so when mom wakes up all the cubs will smell exactly alike. And given that it smells so strong, she'll lick the cubs clean and by licking them clean, she'll put her scent back on to them. This includes her natural cubs AND the orphan."

Ingenious.

So after a thorough swabbing of each cub with the Vicks, it was time to bid the squirmy black furballs their final farewell. And into the darkness they went, nested snugly in the safety of mom's lush warm fur.

And into Mom's arms Lina went...where she should have been all along.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aside - I've often been asked if it’s hard to release a cub that I have cared for, on the contrary...it was always quite pleasurable. I would so much rather see a bear running free than confined in a cage, regardless of its size or intent. Understanding the extreme condition some of the cubs were in when they came to the bear center and knowing we gave them a second chance on life was all I ever needed to squelch any would-be attachment. Ahh...who am I kidding?