And They're Off!

And they're off! (Photo courtesy of ABR)

I would hazard to guess if there was one question I was asked most often when I was working at the bear center it was, "Don't you get sad when you release a bear cub?"

I never could understand the logic of that question for I always considered the release a joyous occasion. I often had to remind myself that rarely did the public get to see the dire circumstances in which I saw many of the cubs as they first arrived. This was of course, before the days of social media. Absent from view were the emaciated and sometimes broken bodies of our new arrivals. So releasing a bear was usually a grand culmination of an often difficult journey.

One bear in particular provided a stark reminder of the difficult life wild animals often lead. Arriving at the center in late May of 2000, "Hyatt" was an underweight yearling bear, tipping the scales at 33 lbs. For those of you that follow ABR, that may sound like a not-so-bad weight for a yearling since poor mast crops often yield extremely malnourished yearlings sometimes weighing-in in the 12-15 lb. range. So a 33-pounder actually sounds fat and sassy.

No, what set "Hyatt" apart was a 15-inch suture line that ran the length of her left hind leg from high up on her hip to just below the knee. The suture job of course was compliments of the superb staff at the University of Tennessee Veterinary School. You see, below the sutures was a freshly repaired hind leg complete with a shiny new metal rod inserted into her once fractured femur. Given her completely shaved hind-end and orangey-yellow betadine-stained leg, she truly looked like Franken-Bear.

Needless to say "Hyatt" responded wonderfully to her treatments. In a matter of five weeks, she not only gained 20 pounds but she completely regained use of her left hind leg, climbing as high as any other bear I have ever seen. In true-to-form fashion, she hit the ground running on release day, never looking back as she scurried down Hyatt lane, deep within Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As I packed up the equipment getting ready to head back to the center a passerby who was lucky enough to be in the right spot at the right time to witness the release asked me, "Don't you get sad when you release a cub?"

I just smiled and said, "Nope...I actually get pretty happy."

But that's not where this story ends.

My ultimate joy came about four months later, while on a relaxing, yet melancholic ride through the national park. I had recently announced my gut-wrenching decision to leave the bear center to begin my career as a public servant in state government. It was during that ride that I spotted a lone visitor pulled off to the side of the rode spying something in a tree. Sure enough it was a bear feeding in the uppermost branches of a tall oak tree. As we watched from a distance the gentleman became alarmed when his binoculars focused in on the bear's hindquarter which was now appearing to him quite hairless.

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?" he inquired.

"Nope," I said. "I think he's doing just fine."

And with that my melancholy turned to joy.