A Bear Story I Will NOT Share

Do you love bears?

It is a simple question and if the answer is YES... then I CHALLENGE YOU.

I challenge you to show your love and compassion for bears by posting this blog to every single picture or video you see on the web depicting the following:

They are pictures of bears in backyards doing things that you usually don't see wild bears doing.

Are the pictures "cute"? In most people's eyes...YES.

Are the pictures "cool"? Considering it may be something you'll never see in your lifetime...YES.

Are the bears in the pictures likely to die at a much younger age because of their actions? Resounding...YES.

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The third question and answer bother me. They bother me because I wrote this blog having answered yes to my very first question about loving bears...I DO love bears. 

I love seeing them. I love reading about them. I love writing about them.

So I'm not about to promote actions that KILL them.

Listen, I know that some of these pictures and videos may be happenstance. Someone came home and found the bears in that situation and snapped a few pictures. I may very well have done just the same. But then I would have made it crystal clear to those bears that they are not and will never be welcomed there. In other words, I would have scared the heck out of the bears and made sure as heck it was a place they'd never consider visiting again. Who knows, some of the folks that snapped those pictures or shot those videos may very well have done that as well (though doubtful).

What bothers me though is the potential repercussions from "sharing" and "liking" these posts.

Here is an example. A recent video depicting a bear family playing in a backyard pool (which I will NOT repost) had over 3.5 MILLION shares. It was then posted on numerous news stations as well as a few famous celebrities FaceBook pages. One in particular has over 40 MILLION followers. Each news story and each share often talked about how "cute" the video was. I consider it vile...not the video, but the message it sends.

I am not going to go into the details of why a habituated bear is a bad thing. For those that don't know, it is a bear that because of human actions, no longer displays its wild instincts and begins to associate more and more with people. In other words, they no longer fear humans and are quite tolerant within their presence. Most often this is because of people feeding them, intentionally or unintentionally.

Here's the thing...these bears DIE at a much younger age than their wild counterparts. This is due to the multiple threats they encounter being around humans (i.e. cars, poisons, poaching, dogs, etc.). In other words, the bear family, including cubs, may not get to grow up to be healthy, strong, WILD adult bears. Here's a sobering analogy, what if I found a really cute picture of a "human" toddler giggling and laughing while holding a cigarette between her fingers. Would people still be amazed at the cuteness? The analogy is strong. It's a picture of something cute that most likely won't get a chance to live its entire life without added difficulties.

Now back to the video...

Millions upon millions of likes and shares and a chance for "celebredom" for the person who shoots the video.

Now...how often do you think that thought will enter into the minds of the millions of people that live in bear country? Don't get me wrong, most folks will continue to do right. But how about those folks that are now inspired?

Inspired to try to get a pic of a bear or a bear family "playing in their backyard".

Inspired by "cuteness" and potential celebrity.

I could hear their thoughts now, "Hmmm...if I could just make a trail of donuts to the swing set. ...or the kiddie pool. ...or the hot tub. I could be on the news or have my video shared by the likes of _________!"

You may think the above actions are extreme and most will agree they are bad but how about liking and sharing them...is that truly any better?

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Alright let's wrap this up...

It's okay to be amazed and to smile at playful pictures and videos of bears in someone's backyard. They are a truly wonderful species that deserve our respect, appreciation and in particular enjoyment. But let's work together to correct this wrong.

At first I was inclined to write, "Love the picture... hate the message" but that gets us absolutely nowhere.

Instead I challenge you to "Love the picture… SEND a message!"

Let them know in the comments below that these actions, though "cute" will KILL those bears. Heck if you need to, post a copy of this link.

A Bear Story I will NOT Share

(http://nemophilosophy.blogspot.com/2016/07/a-bear-story-i-will-not-share.html)

One day, we plan to start a movement to educate the masses on how to live with bears. This will be unlike any other effort (fantastic efforts mind you) that teaches responsible behavior in bear country. We will need your help to get this movement off the ground but until then, stay tuned and enjoy bears where bears are meant to be enjoyed

...IN THE WILD!

A picture of a bear as it was meant to be...IN THE WILD!

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Note: This was one of the more difficult blogs to write. The difficulty lies in the way the message is constructed. My fear was that some people might take offense to the point I'm trying to make since it may appear as if I were pointing fingers. That is NOT the intent at all. In fact, when it comes to bears, I believe we are all reading from the same book, a book that teaches us about these wonderful animals. The problem is sometimes we are simply on different pages or chapters within that book. So instead of placing blame and pointing fingers LET'S WORK TOGETHER to try to get a message out that is worth liking and sharing. A message where our actions actually benefit bears and help create a world where bears and humans coexist peacefully and live as they were meant to live. 

The Bear Without a Smile

On October 22, 1997, the Maryville animal shelter called the Appalachian Bear Center about two orphaned bear cubs that were hanging out at Lambert Acres Golf Course The cubs were sighted the previous day and no mother was to be found anywhere.

The Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency was notified and the bears were promptly captured and sent to ABC for rehabilitation. The two cubs were approximately eight months old, one male, one female. In order to more easily record data, the bears were given names after the location at which they were found. Thus, the female bear was given the name "Lam" while her brother was aptly named "Bert". 

Upon arrival the bears were placed under close surveillance to assess their overall condition. Keep in mind, this was back in the day when the center did not have quick and easy access to medical or veterinary care. Observations were noted but usually from a distance. The TWRA officers noted that the male cub was eating just fine but the female looked "a little sickly". Soon afterwards it was determined that "Bert" was healthy enough to be placed down in the main holding pen, however, we decided to keep a close eye on "Lam" until we could figure out exactly what was wrong with her.  

Over the next 36 hours she refused to eat and appeared to be losing strength. Fearful of her condition, we called upon Dr. Ed Ramsey of the University of Tennessee Veterinary School. Because she was so small (only 11 pounds at the time) it was difficult to administer the anesthetic. Young animals like this could easily be overdosed so special care was taken. Keep in mind and 11 pound bear still puts up a good fight! Unfortunately, Dr. Ramsey had a few scratches to verify this.

At first we were stumped as her body appeared to be in good condition. There were no apparent external injuries such as open wounds or broken bones. However, when we were inspecting her muzzle we found a couple of small puncture ones that appeared to be bite marks, probably from another bear or someone's dog. When Dr. Ramsey opened the bear's mouth we knew right away the cause of her troubles. Most of her front teeth were either missing or falling out!

The poor bear couldn't smile even if it wanted to!

Upon seeing this, the bear was immediately sent to the veterinary hospital for x-rays and additional tests.

Lam just prior to release, the only visible sign

of previous injury, a shaved forehead.

Fortunately, there was not as much damage as first expected. The apparent bite wound on her muzzle caused a severe infection in her mouth causing her front teeth fall out. What really saved her though, was the fact that the majority of the rotted teeth were her baby teeth. With a little time and special treatment adult her adult teeth would soon grow in. All she needed were some antibiotics, a liquid diet, and a safe place to recuperate.

Kathy Wells, one of our board members, was an infant care nurse and had a special knack for caring for extremely small and frail bears. She volunteered to keep a close eye on "Lam" while she recovered. With in a week, "Lam" was gaining strength and would soon join her brother in the main enclosure.

After five months of care at the bear center, "Lam" was ready to go. On March 19, 1998, she was captured down in the pens and given another thorough check-up. This time, she was a young, healthy and chubby bear.  She was placed in a transport cage in the care of the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency and along with her brother was released into Cherokee National Forest.

I have no doubt she was smiling wide when the door to her cage was raised.

A Bear Unseen

It was a typical hot and humid East Tennessee evening in July. At a half hour before dusk I decided to do the daily feeding of our bears. At the time we had three adult bears on site, two waiting to be released and one that was recently injured inside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

The summer evening air was heavy but still. As I rounded the trailer to the maintenance building to get the bear's evening feast, I heard a crashing through the brush directly behind the building. Since the neighbors have a couple of large dogs which frequent the area, I made no unusual note of it other than to keep an eye out for my canid pals. One of the dogs, "Clyde", was a behemoth of a black lab that easily tipped the scale at over 100 pounds. I was sure "Clyde" was just making his rounds and I continued about my business.

I gathered the bear's rations for the night… apples, peaches, grapes and and blueberries as well as their daily portion of fresh acorns and hickory nuts. I even threw in a few "parts" of fresh trout I retrieved from a nearby trout farm. All of this going into two 5-gallon buckets, a caloric feast to say the least. I grabbed the heavy load, proceeded to lock up the maintenance building, and began my trek down the hill making sure I took the longer path to the pens so I could say hi to my buddy "Clyde."

I wasn't quick enough. "Clyde" was nowhere to be seen. I did notice however that it was extremely quiet in the fading a light. Absolute silence.

No cicadas.

No birds.

No frogs from the nearby pond.

Nothing.

Inside the bear pens, all seemed normal...at first. However, upon locating the bear's from behind the blind, I noticed two of the bears were pacing back and forth, almost as if they were agitated or scared. Keep in mind, these were adult bears as opposed to the typical cubs we normally cared for.

Something was up.

Not knowing what to make of it, I finished feeding them and locked up the pens for the night. Pausing before making my way back up the trail toward the distant maintenance building, I noticed that there was still dead silence emanating from the forest. The last of the day light quickly gave way to darkness. As I stood at the corner of the pens, I was straining my pupils to peer into the darkened valley below. It was as if I was willing my eyes to see the source of silence. Suddenly, I heard it.

A huff.

Like someone taking a deep breath and forcing the air all out at once. I knew immediately what it was. I had heard that sound hundreds of times before. Whenever any one of the penned bears got annoyed with another of its kind, it would let out this "huff" to say, "I'm aggravated… Stay the heck away!"

Yes, I knew exactly what that sound was.

It was a bear.

Problem was, our bears were penned up to my right. This sound came from my left.

And it was close.

Suddenly, the gears began to grind. I quickly realized: a.) the bear center was in a remote area where bears are extremely prevalent, b.) I was carrying dripping buckets of wonderfully delectable and aromatic food scraps, c.) we had an adult female bear possibly in heat just to my right, and most importantly, d.) I was carrying dripping buckets of wonderfully delectable and aromatic food scraps.

Yep...it was time to head back to the trailer.

Somehow the idea of standing in the woods in utter darkness while holding empty buckets dripping with berry juice and fish guts while an unseen bear tells me he's "aggravated"....well, it just doesn't sit too well in the craw if you know what I mean!

The walk back to the maintenance building was direct and brisk. And yes, there was clenching going on.

After dropping off the buckets and securing the building I felt a little bit better. The light from our nearby trailer illuminated the foreground so I decided to sit by our campfire pit in hopes of catching a glimpse of our visitor.

As I sat in the twilight, although I can't prove it, I am sure I heard a couple of cubs bawling in the distance. About ten minutes had passed. Suddenly my wife, Sandy, called from the trailer and asked me to come in quickly. Our nearest neighbor had just called to tell us that the biggest bear she had ever seen just tried to get up on her porch. She described the bear as a black "Gentle Ben."

Thankfully "Clyde" had scared the bear away as it tried to get on their porch. By her estimates, the bear was at least three times the size of "Clyde". That would put the bear in the 300 to 400 pound range, a true "monster" for this area.

Whether or not the visitor was an adult male in search of a mate or a large female that treed her cubs while searching for food, we may never know. Sitting back down for the night, I was quick to chalk it up as another day's work at the bear center.

Gosh...I love this job!

The Elephant Ballerina

Throwback from last year when I laced up the skates for the first time in almost 20 years to join my son on the ice.

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Picture if you will a pleasantly plump pachyderm trying to wedge his rotund feet into the minuscule lacings of a delicate ballerina slipper.

That was me tonight.

One would think 50 lbs later, a lifetime of wisdom, and 19 years of being out of the sport I love would be enough to knock the littlest bit sense into me, but alas, I am stubborn....or at the very least, a wishful idiot.

You see, my eldest son Jarret drafted an intense liking to ice hockey about two years ago at the ripe old age of 13. Living in the south, where college football is the second largest denomination, I was quite pleased that my son broke from the norm and took a liking to his Dad's favorite sport. And I was equally happy and excited to see he dove in with a passion.

Unlike those "easy" sports where talent come from simple skills like running, throwing and catching, hockey is completely different. Everyone needs to master a skill that no human is born with, they have to master the art of skating. For those of you unfamiliar with this practice imagine strapping meat cleavers to the soles of your feet, setting off on a frozen surface that was designed for only polar bears and penguins, and learning to accelerate, stop, and turn on a dime. Now throw in a curved stick that is oftentimes used as a weapon and add in a disc-like object made of rubber so hard it will undoubtedly claim two incisors before you're five years in. Ask me... I know!

Needless to say, my son made me proud. He asked fervently throughout the summers to take him ice skating, often paying with his hard-earned allowance. (I'm sorry, but I chuckled when I wrote the word "hard-earned" but don't tell him that!) Anyway, as he entered his freshman year of high school he told me he dreamed of playing for his high school hockey team. Knowing the lag of not playing throughout his childhood would put him far behind others his age, I came up with a brilliant and insanely stupid idea. I told him, "if you play for your high school hockey team, I will strap on the blades once again and play alongside him in an open league.

The brat is on the dam team.

So I kept my word like a good dad does...and I strapped them on tonight.

This is where the pachyderm enters the picture. The last time I played ice hockey was in 1996, almost twenty years ago. One would think my mind would race trying to remember the skills of skating and the intricacies of the most beautiful sport ever created. No. My thoughts were much different.... 

Since when did my feet get so far away from my dang arms? 

And why are these hockey pants so tight?

And why does my old helmet look like a beanie? 

And why can't I get my feet in these dam skates???

Fortunately I survived.

Don't get me wrong. I can't walk now, nor do I expect to until the swelling goes down but at least I didn't make a fool of myself. Oh yes, I threw up a partial piece of my lung and needed help getting up off the bench after the game but that's where my wisdom shined through. You see, I was smart enough to think ahead and take six ibuprofen tablets before the game. In fact, I can guarantee that one simple move is what is allowing me to type this account right now.

Will I feel it in the morning? Absolutely! In fact, I even cancelled a fishing trip with one of my best buds because I figured it would be too strenuous on me the day after. I repeat...FISHING would be too strenuous! Heck, I'm not even sure I will be able to think about fishing tomorrow without hurting.

But guess what?

I survived...and I had the time of my life with my son.

Yes...the elephant ballerina danced again.

A Wildlife Message...About the Message

“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.” - Plutarch

I ran across this quote from a great Greek historian in a book I am reading on human origins (The Last Lost World: Ice Ages, Human Origins, and the Invention of the Pleistocene) and it sent my mind in a whirl. Unfortunately, my mind does that and oftentimes it spins incessantly. Funny thing is, I relate it to those souped-up hot rods that spin their wheels with blinding speed and simply go nowhere. (I can only hope that one day some of these ideas and endeavors gain traction.)

Let me start by saying I have been blessed with life experiences that few others have attained. It wasn't but a few years ago that I realized my wheels were spinning and I truly was going nowhere. It was the first time in my life I wasn't enjoying what I was doing. I am one of the lucky few that feel that they have never worked a day in their entire life, simply because I so love what I do. That was of course until I stopped managing wildlife and began to manage the most difficult species of all...people.

Management skills are truly a gift, some people have it… I don't. It's not that I could not do the job. I moved up rather quickly in my field so apparently I have the talent, where I fall short is I lack the desire. I would rather roll up my sleeves and get dirty instead of overseeing the work efforts of others. It's simply who I am. However, critical to any task I oversee is the quality and pride that go into the responsibilities at hand. I have standards that I don't easily compromise, one of which is educating others who express the deep desire or blatant need to learn.

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The Difficult Truth

When it comes to wildlife, we live in an ignorant world. This statement is not meant to be derogatory, it's simply truthful. It is also not meant to be accusatory. Our urban-centric society does not expose most individuals to the natural world so there's little chance for people to understand the ways of nature save for a few lessons in their jumbled sea of a childhood education.

Although some desire, most people simply lack the understanding of our natural world. Our greatest need as wildlife professionals is not to focus all of our attention on the animals we dedicate our lives to but to focus most of our attention on the people that ultimately have the greatest impact on those animals. Because of this need, the "understanding" of conservation principals by the general public is critically important for wildlife (and wildlife agencies) since policy is often set by the voting majority. It's the ‘getting people to understand these principles’ that is most difficult.

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A Message Missing the Mark

As great as the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation is, that holds our wildlife resources in public trust and binds us to manage by science, the message and responsibilities for these resources are often slanted toward the minority of individuals, thus placing the burden of conservation squarely on the shoulders of the few. A great example of this bias is the fact that federal funding for wildlife conservation comes mostly from the pockets of hunters and fishermen (Pittman-Robertson and Dingell-Johnson Acts) with very little funding emanating from the general sector. State wildlife agencies are funded similarly with the financial burden for conservation falling primarily on the consumptive users (license buyers). This needs to change.

But how can this change if wildlife agencies generally speak only to their primary constituents?

In the spring of 2015, I attended the Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies North American conference. Steve Williams, president of the Wildlife Management Institute and former director of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, was the plenary speaker. He was speaking on the future responsibilities of wildlife agencies and what he said so inspired me I immediately wrote it down, tore it off my notepad and secured it in my wallet. His exact words were,

"The information that we as wildlife professionals gather is so critically important that all must hear ...BUT… equally important to that message is its packaging and delivery because without it the world does not know we exist."

As great as this message was where did it go? It went to the individuals who often struggle to get their message out and YES, I am one of them. I am one who was schooled in evolutionary principles, population models and Linnaean nomenclature. I hazard to guess the vast majority of my colleagues sitting in that room majored in those same subjects. Absent from our studies were the lessons in human-dynamics, communications and marketing. Yes, marketing, because finding and creating an audience is just as important as being able to communicate with them. These are skill sets that often require years of upper-level training and award degrees and certificates for their efforts. Yet we believe those skills are somehow inherent. They are not.

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Packaging and Delivery

The first step in correcting a problem is to identify the problem. If we struggle with the general public not understanding basic wildlife principles it may not be that we ourselves don't understand them, rather we simply do not know how to "package and deliver" those principles to our audience. It is our responsibility to provide the public the means for understanding. This conundrum does not require further research into animal biology and behavior, unless of course, your target animal is humans. At this point, my question to many of my colleagues is this:

If the packaging and delivery of our message is so important then why are we constantly wrapping it in camouflage?

Most of the information wildlife agencies provide is not only written for the well-versed outdoorsmen but it is usually marketed in arenas that are frequented by those same outdoorsman. Information on the management of species remains firmly lodged within the realms of peer-reviewed wildlife journals, hunting guides and popular sporting magazines, none-of-which reach the populace. If the statistics we have been fed for decades ring true in that approximately 10% of the population hunts, 10% oppose hunting, and 80% are neither here nor there, wouldn’t one surmise that for every one article that hits a hunting-based publication, there should be at least eight others that hit mainstream media?

Having said all this, I’m no fool. I understand not every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to hear about an endangered clam. However, there are species and issues that do concern the masses. There are keystone species such as eagles and bears that spark awe and excitement in all people. I firmly believe we can thank the great conservationist Teddy Roosevelt for the latter. Then there’s the issue of climate change and although the debate rages on regarding its cause, we are left to not only to adapt as a human race but to figure out how other species are to adapt as well. So needless to say wildlife and our ecosystems remain a priority in many people’s lives.

This may be why in 2011 the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service National Survey of Fishing, Hunting and Wildlife Recreation revealed that over 90 million Americans (38% of the population 16 years of age or older) enjoyed some form of fishing, hunting or wildlife-associated recreation. Those same people spent $145 billion equaling almost 1% of our gross domestic product. To put this in perspective, for every $100 dollars of all goods and services produced, $1 is due to wildlife-related recreation. That’s an issue that is more main stream than most people would ever imagine.

So, if almost one out of every two people DO CARE shouldn’t they be provided information to make them more knowledgeable? Once again, we must begin to turn our attention to the packaging and delivery.

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Addressing the Problem

I have used Mr. William’s statements as my battle cry ever since it became a permanent addition to my wallet. If we do not know how to talk to people and effectively convey what we know about wildlife how could we ever get the public to not only understand, but DO what is necessary to protect and conserve our wildlife? 

As most know, wildlife professionals have done and will continue to do amazing things in the world of wildlife conservation. Unfortunately a few of those actions come on the heels of atrocities from catastrophic events such as major oil spills but those tend to be short-lived and relatively localized. Most widespread deleterious actions against wildlife or the ecosystems in which they live are or were carried out over decades of negligence, such as the effects of over-exploitation or deforestation. Those are issues we continue to face and must continue to rectify but the public is often uninformed on these issues.

We too, as professionals, should even accept the blame for a portion of public misunderstandings since some of the more confounding present-day issues were caused by our own best intentions. For example, for most of the twentieth century the immediate suppression of wild land fire was encouraged. The ultra-effective Smokey Bear campaign created generations of people that viewed wild land fire as detrimental. The belief that all fire was bad was the progenitor to creating fire-dependent ecosystems that are highly departed from their natural conditions. This not only effects forest vegetation but the wildlife within. These issues are now better understood, at least we believe so, by natural resource professionals and we are often attempting to "undo" what we were preaching just a few scant years before.

So can we really blame the public for their present-day ignorance? Hardly, since many have learned from old text books and have not yet received the new information. Even worse, as stated earlier, we have been teaching from the back classroom while the student body waits patiently in the main lecture hall. It’s time we crack the new text books and address the awaiting students.

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Do Not Lecture...Teach!

As a student of nature I have been taught life lessons from a wide variety of resources. Besides college professors and colleagues I have learned equally as much, not only from the plants and animals I study, but from the people who are as passionate about them as I am, regardless of their background or focus. One of my greatest lessons came from Stephanne Dennis, an undergraduate student at Oregon State University who is studying Human-Wildlife Dynamics. She once said, “Your power comes not from your authority or knowledge…it comes from how well you communicate and inspire others to action.”

This prophetic statement reminded me of a painful memory where hordes of interested citizens were concerned there was a cougar roaming their neighborhood. The ever-grainy photo did not reveal the sharp characteristics the less-informed public looks for when identifying a cougar so the question of its identity still lingered. When the news interviewed the wildlife professional in charge of that situation, and with the public anxiously awaiting enlightenment, the moment to instruct was completely deflated by the response, “It’s a dog.” Linnaeus let us down again.

Opportunity missed.

Simply put, our ability to influence is our greatest power. I couldn’t agree more. Let’s begin to collaborate with the folks that are trained educators and skilled communicators, let’s start talking, and let's keep the fire burning.

Houdini's Holiday Surprise

An almost 20-year old blast from the past...Curator's Corner

A dear friend of mine, Dana Dodd, current President of ABR, sent me a copy of an old newsletter I had published for the bear center almost twenty years ago. Her hope was that it jogged my memory so I could rehash old bear stories from the center. Not only did it jog a fleeting old-man's memory, it sent me to a time long ago when I was living a dream. Instead of retelling a story already told, I simply copied it verbatim from the newsletter. I even left the bad grammar in it (as much as it kills me) so I could keep the authenticity of my earlier writings. I hope you enjoy and I hope I have improved.

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The fall and winter season of 1997 broad some unexpected challenges to the bear center. Besides the extraordinary number of cubs that were at the center, we were faced with the many unique situations which only such a group can bring! Thankfully, with the help of a few volunteers we made it through a Christmas we won't soon forget.

Not wanting to ask any of our volunteers to "bear sit" on Christmas Day, my wife Sandy and I decided to spend our first Christmas together alone in the trailer at the bear center. "Alone" is a miss leading term. There were 16 of us all together; myself, Sandy, Smoky (our dog), and 13 mischievous roly-poly little black bear cubs. We decided to head home for the holidays on December 26th instead. I soon found out even those plans were in jeopardy.

It was a beautiful Christmas and Santa was good to both of us. We were beginning to get excited about our long trip back to Buffalo, NY to spend some time with our closest family and friends. I already had the "bear sitters" lined up for the next week and we were packed when I decided to go down to the bear pens and check on the cubs for the last time before our hiatus.

Cubs sleep in the most precarious places. 

Everything looked fantastic. All thirteen tiny furball's were nestled in the trees dreamily sleeping away winter. And then it happened. I wouldn't have believed it unless I had seen it with my own eyes! As I made my way around the north east corner of the pen I paused to look at the last group of cubs comfortably resting in a large crooked pine. "Rocky," "Calderwood," and "Houdini" didn't have a care in the world when suddenly their world was literally coming down around them. In an instant, the tree they were sleeping in snapped at the base and began to fall. I watched as all three cubs hung on hoping to get out of this alive. What made everything even worse was that the path the tree was taking was going to drop these bears right on top of the electric fence!

Now it may have been luck or fate, but I think an angel was watching over us that day because the tiniest of branches from a nearby tree caught the falling pine with its precious cargo. With a sudden jerk the tree was hung up in the other tree's branches and left the three cubs holding on with all their might. In fact, "Houdini" was jerked so violently, she lost grip with her back legs and was left dangling by her front paws only a few feet above the electric fence. After gaining her senses she soon climbed back up to a more secure position.

Hanging on until the ride stopped.

The cubs were fine but they were still left in a tree that was only an angel's breath from coming down. Luckily, two of the cubs realized their predicament and started heading down the tree right away. Both "Rocky" and "Calderwood" paused periodically because each step sent the pine a few inches closer to disaster. "Houdini" was still caught up in the boughs thinking the worst was over. Finally, the two bears leapt to the ground, safe at last, leaving only one cub in dire straits.

Houdini almost made her second escape.

Although this whole event only took a few seconds, I found myself standing there with my jaw dropped, staring in disbelief. When everything calmed down, I walked to a better vantage point to see the seriousness of "Houdini's" situation. It wasn't good. The branch that caught the huge pine was only a few inches in diameter and bending precariously. What made things worse was that the cub figured out the danger she was in and tried to crawl into an adjacent tree. With every shift in her weight the tree slipped a few inches in the base of the pine moaned under the stress. This scared the cub and she settled in determined not to move.

Finally, my heart began to beat again so I had to figure out what I was going to do. I made a mad dash up to the trailer to Sandy who was putting the last of the bags into the car. I told her the situation and then got right on the phone. Thankfully not everyone was away for the holidays because I soon reached Tom Faulkner, one of our board members. He placed a few calls and luckily rounded up a crew from Ogles Tree Cutting Service.

By the time everyone arrived at the center it was well after dark. We grabbed our flashlights and headed down to the pens hoping the conifer and cub remained intact. Luckily, the large pine was still hung up in the other tree but "Houdini" was still nestled in the broken trees branches. This eliminated any chance of us removing the tree that night.

With flashlights in hand and ropes in tow, the tree cutters did their work and secured the tree and bear temporarily. Being in the pens at night with six other cubs meant Tom Faulkner and myself had to keep a close watch over the locations of the other bears. Thankfully, due to our "hands-off" approach at ABC, all the bears remained fearful of us and kept their distance. When all was secure we sent the Ogle's staff home only to have them return in the morning to remove the tree. By that time, "Houdini" had made her way down and was once again on solid ground, safe and sound.

And yes… Sandy and I did make it home for the holidays!

Tough Love Cubs

Breaking bad behavior is tough work!

One of the main reasons the bear center has remained not only near and dear to my "biologist" heart but solvent to state and federal agencies is their commitment to research. Their purposeful mission of trying to improve and perfect their rehabilitation techniques not only increases the likelihood of a successful release but it exemplifies the center's dedication to their primary constituent... the bears themselves. For through their work, both trial and error, the world gains a better understanding of this wonderful creature and provides hope for those more-imperiled species where every individual matters to the perpetuance of the whole.

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The Call

Walk in the shoes of an ABR curator and you will soon discover learning is on ongoing process. Each bear that comes into the center brings new challenges. One of the greatest challenges brought upon the center came in the form of three tiny cubs from Virginia.

In May of 1999 I received a call from Denny Martin, lead bear biologist for the state of Virginia. He had a special favor to ask. His first question was whether or not we'd be interested in taking-in three orphaned black bear cubs. Not thinking too deeply I assured him we'd do whatever we could to help but I didn't consider it much of a favor since that was our job. That's when he broke the news to me.

"These aren't ordinary cubs...they're habituated," he said with stern unwavering voice. "They were hand raised and bottle fed since day one so they don't know how to be wild...you still up for taking them?"

At that point, I froze.

I wasn't exactly sure how to respond. We were in the business of taking in wild bears, ones that could be fattened up and released. What were we to do with habituated cubs?

"Denny, is it okay if I make a few phone calls first and get back to you?"

"Sure, no problem Daryl. I understand if you're not able to take them."

With a quick exchange of pleasantries I hung up the phone with Denny and began making some calls. Besides consulting with a few of the center's board members I contacted a few bear experts from both the National Park Service and the University of Tennessee. I unveiled to them a crazy idea I had to "make them wild". They all thought it was worth a shot. My second to last call was to the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency to not only advise them of our plan but to get their blessing to bring the bears in from out-of-state. Permission was granted.

My last call was to Denny to tell him the news. He was not only relied but intrigued at the idea.

The Plan

After consulting with everyone, including Denny, our plan was take in the three young bears and attempt to "wild them up" by using aversive conditioning techniques. This is simply a fancy term for using negative stimuli in an attempt to break bad behavior. In even simpler terms, we would literally scare the crap out of them whenever possible to once again make them wary of humans. Call it tough love but if they ever wanted to return to the wild they would have to learn to fear humans.

The Virginia Cubs

Denny arrived with the three cubs on a hot sweltering day. Without thinking, I had prepared the transfer cage to transport the cubs to the main enclosure but Denny soon reminded me it wouldn't be necessary. Since the cubs were accustomed being handled they could simply be picked up and transferred by hand.

It was yet another chance of a lifetime.

Denny carrying one of the new arrivals.

Though I had bottle-fed neonatal cubs the year prior I had never in my life handled an unsedated bear that actually looked like a real bear, although in a much more miniature form. Each of the three cubs weighed between 12-15 pounds and although they tolerated being picked up, they became quite ornery if they weren't being fed. This was definitely a bad sign since not only were they not afraid of us but the cubs actually sought us for food. Considering the cubs were already a handful, it made me shudder to think of a larger bear becoming agitated with me if I wasn't giving him his food.

After a quick check-up, the cubs were placed in the main enclosure and left alone. Denny and I then went over the aversive conditioning game plan and he left it up to me to determine when the cubs would be ready. Given their initial weight, it was going to be a couple of months at least of fattening them up, coupled with intensive training, before they could even be considered for release. Denny bid me farewell and good luck and hopped in his truck and headed North.

The Work Begins

Given the distress of a long hot trip from Virginia I decided to give the cubs a few days of solitude as they acclimated to their new digs.  Since the pens were prepped with scattered natural foods I need not feed them while they explored their new surroundings. My only task was to observe and record their behavior.

They were bears alright...curious and meddlesome like any young unsupervised child in a candy store . Unfortunately, every time I moved to a new vantage point behind the blinds, one or all the cubs would hear or detect my movements and approach the blind with eager curiosity. All bears prior had simply ignored or feared what they couldn't see. Had it not been for that worrisome behavior my hopes would have been much higher since they were just doing what they were taught since birth. It was time to begin the training.

The following day I had finished their daily feeding which consisted of flinging nuts and berries over the enclosure wall. This "manna from heaven" approach reinforces their need to scavenge for food while breaking any habits of coming to a routine bottle or food bowl. Unfortunately the cubs cared little for the raining bounty and continued to pursue my footfalls from behind the blind. What made it even worse was the cubs would begin to "hum" as they neared my location, a tell-tale sign of "comfort in my presence" though I had remained out of sight.

A day earlier I had prepared the area for our first aversive trial. I had purchased a garden hose with a high intensity spray nozzle. The plan was to reveal myself from behind the blinds and if a cub approached I would spray him with a high pressure stream of water. If he ran a way or avoided me altogether he would not receive the treatment. I can still clearly picture the very first attempt.

As I raised the blind material all three cubs initially tensed as they saw the black fabric rise. It was promising to see the reflexive instinct of fear coming from the cub. After the initial shock, however, all three cubs recognized my figure and made a beeline to me. The instant the cold water blast hit them they scattered and ran, one even climbed the nearest tree. The hose worked perfect.

I remained visible the next twenty minutes. As long as they acted the part and stayed away they remained free of the water-born persecution. The moment they investigated me or my implement of distress and approached, the aqueous onslaught resumed. After awhile they settled in a good distance away and the first trial came to a close. Over the next week or so the conditioning took place every time I walked the perimeter of their enclosure. I would show myself and blast them with water should they attempt to approach.

My demise, or should I say the technique's demise, came in the form of a heat wave. You see, bears often have a difficult time thermoregulating. In other words, black fur coats in hot humid weather make it quite difficult for bears to stay cool. This is why bears spend many lazy days of summer lounging in the shade. When the temps in Tennessee that summer began approaching 100 degrees, something in their minds clicked. The cold water spray was no longer a torture, it was a reward! They literally began running to me in hopes of being sprayed. Dam they were smart.

A change in tactics was required. I had to think of a deterrent that would keep the bears at a distance. Fortunately I was doing laundry that day.

What started out as a routine chore revealed the next tool in my bag of tricks. While fetching a fresh box of laundry detergent from the closet I stumbled upon a small case of pepper spray, the bear deterrent kind. This had been given to me in case of such an emergency. Since the cubs survival was at stake this so happened to be one of those emergencies.

Needless to say the pepper spray was a very effective deterrent. How do I know? I sprayed myself.
Please don't ask.

(Note to self: Be cognizant of the wind when using pepper spray.)

The bag of tricks continued. We deterred them with cattle prods, which has the equivalent shock of an electric fence. We threw in some pyrotechnics and I must say, never in my life did I think I'd be buying firecrackers for a work assignment. We even brought in a specialist with dogs to keep them treed every time the cubs approached. The treatments continued and the cubs grew.

Months later the three bears from Virginia were plenty big enough to survive on their own so I placed a call to Denny to come take a look at his bears. A few days later he was standing with me outside the bear pens at the center.

"How'd the conditioning work out?" Denny asked.

"Let's go in and take a look," I replied.

The Evaluation

I grabbed a can of pepper spray and the cattle prod as a precaution as we approached the pens. All three cubs, now very healthy looking (aka fat) were ambling around foraging for nuts as we entered the enclosure. Within an instant they rose to their feet, got a better look at the intruders and immediately shot to the tops of the trees.

Denny was ecstatic. It was exactly what he wanted to see.

I wasn't so sure.

"Not so fast Denny... watch this."

I then left him standing nearby the trees where the bears sought refuge and walked away...not to leave him alone, but to place the pepper spray and cattle prod outside the enclosure. I returned to continue the bear's evaluation. This time, there was no "tool" that could cause the bears distress.

After a moments hesitation and some brief vocalizations amongst the crew, the first bear began his descent. Soon afterwards his two mates followed, slowly shimmying down the tree butt first. Once on the ground they began their approach, constantly looking to see if I had something in my hands.

The slow cautious "stalk" continued until one of the bears came right up to Denny and began nuzzling his boot. Shortly thereafter he was humming for he had found comfort in us.

At that moment both of our hearts broke.

When will we learn?

Throughout the years numerous bears have passed through the thresholds of ABRs care, the vast majority of those bears go on and continue their life wild and free. Not all bears are so lucky. They have the "wild" stolen from them.  They no longer know how to be a bear and their lives are greatly changed, their lives are either shortened due to their bad behavior or they are forever convicted to a life confined within a cage. Sadly and all too often it is because of the selfish acts of people.

Habituation of bears, whether it be through the bottle feeding of cubs or the purposeful placement of food for them for is a tragedy. But not all tragedies are so blatant. Improper trash storage, inadvertent feeding, careless front and backcountry behavior, and simple ambivalence to the bear' presence often results in shorter lifespans for these wonderful creatures. If you truly love and care for these animals you will always be cognizant of how your behavior affects them. In other words, you will always "Bear In Mind" and follow all the safety guidelines. After all, those guidelines are mostly there to protect the bears!

Lastly, although some days are harder than others the good days far outweigh the bad and I can not help but be reminded of some very wise words of the great Winston Churchill...

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal:

it is the courage to continue that counts.”

And continue we shall.