Deacon - A Miracle Cub (Part 2)

WHAT?!?!

Was my immediate gut-churning reaction.

What do you mean, "Don't be surprised if he doesn't make it through the night?"

I immediately felt foolish asking that of Dr. Ramsey since I knew exactly what it meant.

"The pneumonia's pretty advanced. We did some chest x-rays on him and to be quite honest, were surprised he's lasted this long. His lungs are pretty shot."

"So what am I supposed to do?" was my downcast but curious reply.

"Make him comfortable," replied Dr. Ramsey. "And hope like hell the antibiotics kick-in in time."

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The ride home was pretty somber. Deacon's continued coughing didn't help lighten the mood much either. We had bears die on us unexpectedly before, that's the nature of our business, it was the "expectedness" of this situation that was throwing me for a loop. I reached back and laid my hand on the door of his cage in a gesture to show the cub that "I felt for him". His sedation was wearing off and he groggily wobbled over and began licking my fingertips through the cage. Within moments he began making the sound. It was the vibrating humming sound a cub emits when it is nursing off mom. It's a sign of contentment and comfort. Anyone that has had any exposure to young bears knows the sound well. I refer to it as the "hum".

Knowing he desperately wanted to nurse I made a knuckle with my finger and extended it through the wiring on the door. He immediately latched onto my knuckle with growing fervor. His humming increased but more importantly is coughing ceased.

The maintenance building served as the makeshift ICU.

By the time I arrived back at the center Deacon and I had come to two clear understandings. One... I was going to be his bud for whatever time he had left. And two... no matter how hard he tried, milk simply was not going to flow out of my knuckle. I did know one thing for certain, he was hungry and I was determined to make his last day on earth a good one. I placed him down in the maintenance building as the impromptu ICU and began to get to work.

It was now early evening and I had to prepare a meal for him. He hadn't eaten all day so I presumed he was famished. Typically he would be getting the standard "healthy" cub ration which consisted of natural foods such as nuts and fruits supplemented with a little bit of dry dog food. But as the circumstances dictated, this wasn't a typical meal. I dropped a few bunches of grapes and a couple of apples into his cage and filled up his water bowl. The little guy hadn't eaten in almost a day so he attacked the offering with reckless abandon. This allowed me to slip out of the maintenance building without him noticing. I then ran up to the house to carry out the second half of my plan.

I then proceeded to raid my fridge.

There was Deacon, an innocent cub, the victim of human selfishness and ignorance, now sitting on death row completely oblivious to his fate. It wasn't just my duty to care for him and provide him comfort in his waning hours, it was my moral obligation. It was my way of apologizing for the actions of others who know no better or simply don't care. At least maybe I could show him that our species consists of a few folks that aren't that bad.

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"What the heck are you doing with all our bacon and peanut butter?" was the first thing out of my wife's mouth when she saw me raiding the kitchen. After filling her in with the details she was soon searching for more items Deacon might like. She reminded me of the most important items of all... Milk!

Armed with goodies in hand, I went back down to spend the last few hours with him.

As soon as I entered the building Deacon perked up and started humming. He had completely consumed the offering of grapes and apples like I knew he would but he was obviously still hungry and boy did I have a treat for him! My first order of business though was giving him his meds. I needn't worry, the bacon-wrapped pill went down his gullet so fast I don't believe he even had time to taste it. My next and last order of business was simple...hang out with him to help keep him comfortable and give him a few treats every now and then and for the next two hours that was exactly what I did.

It was now almost 9 PM and the sun had already bid farewell. As much as it tore me up inside it was time for me to bid the same. I made sure his water bowl was full OF MILK and that there were warm blankets for him to curl up on within his cage. I extended my knuckle to him one last time and allowed him to suckle on it for a bit longer. Letting go was difficult and it had absolutely nothing to do with the small suction he was placing on my finger. With pain and sadness in my heart I broke free and made my way to the door. He immediately began bawling. He knew I was leaving him. I bid him farewell one last time, closed the door, and shut off the lights. Listening to him cry as I made my way back up to the house was one of the saddest things I have ever heard.

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After a while, I settled into the recliner in my living room to record the notes for the day. My thoughts were distracted. There I was nice and warm, snuggled into a comfortable chair while a six-month old cub lie alone possibly for the last time.

I couldn't live with myself if he did.

A minute later I found myself getting dressed to head back down to the maintenance building. In my heart I believed it was to keep him company but in my mind I realized it was also to keep me company.

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Although it was a low worn-out muffled sound, I could still hear him bawling as I approached the darkened maintenance building. It was more of a depressed whine. I was hating myself for stressing him out. The rattling of the door knob was just what he needed. His whining changed from a depressed bawl to an excited cry. He was up on his feet in no time pressing his body on the cage closest to me. He reminded me of an excited dog that simply wanted his belly rubbed.

I immediately extended my finger and instantly he began suckling on my knuckle. His excited hum comforted me knowing his stress was no more. I apologized for leaving him in the first place and settled in to spend some quiet time with him hoping he'd relax and eventually fall asleep. If there wasn't a steel cage separating the two of us I'm sure he would have crawled up in my lap and peacefully dozed off.

Then the gears started grinding.

A 25-pound cub, though cute, can be deceivingly strong.

What if...?

Do you think he would...?

Nah, I'm sure he wouldn't, would he...?

After all, the officer did...

The debate in my mind was raging.

Should I?

Then the thought struck me. "When in your life will you ever have a non-releasable cub needing your comfort on possibly his last day on earth?" It was a no-brainer.

Not knowing how he would react and the simple fact that I had never handled a live bear in my life, at least one that wasn't heavily sedated or that weighed less than a few pounds, I eased the dead bolt on the door slowly to the left to the unhinged position. I kept a firm grip on the door trying to gauge his strength as he pushed on the other side. Dang… these animals are powerful.

Throwing caution to the wind I let the door go. Besides strong he was fast. He was out of the cage and in my lap before the door fully opened.

He curled up, searched for my knuckle, then started humming. The loudest hum I had heard from him yet. He was not only content, he was happy.

Then it hit me.

I had a freaking bear in my lap...

… and he was curled up wanting to be there!!!

I would be fooling you if I tried to go into eloquent detail describing the range of emotions going through my mind while I was with Deacon. Quite simply, it was shock and awe. The former because never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine "holding" a bear in my bare hands and the latter because of the sheer strength a mere 25-pound animal could exhibit. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't worried in the physical sense because I firmly believe he meant me no harm. It was in the unintended sense where if he began to play too rough he wouldn't know his limitations.

My trepidation was all for naught.

Deacon simply wanted a companion to keep him company. For the next few hours he was either sitting in my lap or exploring the maintenance shed or nibbling on a treat. The whole while, the hum was never long absent. I can honestly say without hesitation he was enjoying his last few hours. Truth be told, I was probably enjoying it more so than him.

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Alas, the time had come.

It was now well after midnight and like a parent looking over a tired child, it was time to call it a night. Ironically, I was the tired child. I grabbed a few grapes, danced them on the tip of Deacon's nose and tossed them into the open cage.

He showed no interest.

I tried apples.

Again… No interest.

Unfortunately I was out of bacon but no worries… Peanut butter to the rescue!

No interest.

He simply would not enter the cage on his own free will. Apparently he now liked freedom more than food.

I had to figure out a way to get them back in his cage so I resorted to brute force. Since I was able to pick him up in my arms I figured I would simply pick him up and place him back in the cage.

I figured wrong.

The first two attempts simply saw him go spread eagle in the doorway hanging on tight to all four corners of the door frame. Picture if you will, a trampoline with it's fabric spread taut over the frame. Yeah… that was his body in the doorway. And he was just as "springy" when I pushed on him! The fact that they are so dexterous with all four of their limbs make them ten times more difficult to deal with than most animals. I guess I should have thought that part through.

My third try saw me pinning his arms down in an attempt to "sneak" him in unknowingly.

You ever see a bear quickly climb a tree by using his claws to "dig in" and scamper up? Let's just say my leg was the closest tree. I was not trying that again!!

After multiple failed attempts through coercion and force I decided to throw in the towel. Not only was I exhausted from lack of sleep but the little bugger wore me out. I dug out a plastic tarp and an old army blanket and spread them out on the floor. My plan was to lay down and let things settle down. As soon as he relaxed and began to doze off maybe, just maybe, he would be easier to get into the cage.

As I laid back and got comfortable I watched as he took his time exploring the inside of the maintenance building. Although he was just a little guy he was still a bear. As much as I trusted him, I still had to keep my eye on him, for his safety AND mine. His hum was mesmerizing and soothing.

Slowly and unknowingly, my world began to fade and eventually it all turned to black…


(To be continued...)

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I would be remiss if I didn't remind everyone this is NOT how black bear rehab occurs. Circumstances dictated that this bear was unreleasable therefore human contact was not going to put this cub in jeopardy. Human contact with a wild bear regardless of good intention ALWAYS puts a bear's life at-risk. If you love bears, NEVER feed or have any contact with them whatsoever.