image from wildlifeanimals.blogspot.com
“Regardless, I am still passionate about
grizzly bears.”---Timothy Treadwell.
It’s November, and my den is hollowed out. I
just feasted on four fat turkeys--ha--a few less
for man’s table. I pick my teeth with four inch
claws. My jaws are so strong I once bit through
a cast iron frying pan to get all the bacon grease.
I mated twice in August, and I’m ready for the
They call me Bruiser--which appeals to me a
hell of lot more than Ursus Horribilis. There are
only a couple of a dozen of us here in the North
Cascades. I range a couple hundred miles,
sometimes checking out the foothills of the Rockies.
I was raised in the Yukon, but over the last decade
I’ve worked my way down here. I once spent a
year in Montana, but it was just too damn crowded;
hundreds of bears competing for sex and food.
I’m about 30, old for a Grizz--most of us check out
before we’re 25. I think it’s because some of them
choose not to hibernate; stupid kids--afraid they’re
going to miss something. I’m left alone, which is how
I like it. I’m 9 feet tall, and weigh 880 pounds. I had
a tussle with a rogue Sasquatch last year. He was
about 8’ tall, and weighed in at a skinny 425. He was
pretty nimble, but they’re not good fighters; small jaws
and teeth, with no claws. I had to stand erect to battle
him. He gave up after I tore one of his arms off; made
a nice lunch.
I’m expecting a big blizzard this week, so I’m eating
everything that moves, from ants to coyotes. I tend to
hibernate for 5 months. At my age, I enjoy the rest--
but I’ll tell you what, when I emerge in April, I am
both cranky and real hungry.
In Spring the grizzly’s
roar causes critters to hide, cuz
they will devour all.
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub