Once upon a time, angry, pissed off bears filled what would later be called the United States. Doesn’t matter if you met a Grizzly or a Poorly Named Black Bear (called PNBB forthwith). They’d both rather kill you for dinner than to let you breed more annoying, gun toting humans.
In the area later called Montana, bears did a fine job controlling the human population. However, the PNBB, in what would later be called New Jersey, became infested with the unwanted cockroach of two legged creatures. (I’m referring to humans…try to keep up.)
To be fair, the Montana bears had it easier. It took humans forever to reach their land, and if caught in their just-arrived-nearly-starved and exhausted state, they were easy to kill and eat, although the meat was a bit tough and boney. Secondly, not a lot of their females wanted to go to Montana, so human breeding was spotty at best.
However, New Jersey humans bred like rabbits, and soon they filled up the entire state. They cut down all the trees so they could farm the land or burrow beneath soil for iron ore, limestone and other things the PNBB’s had no interest in. And back then, everyone carried a gun. So the bears packed up and left NJ realizing that while they could kill one human at a time, they would be utterly exhausted long before the humans went extinct.
Eventually, the rest of the states became difficult for bears, and some decided to return to NJ and live in the new woods growing on the mounds of rocky rubble that had once been mining communities. Some bears flourished and some did not. And that is the crux of my story today, so pay attention.
The aggressive bears who left the woods and stormed into the nearby communities were summarily shot. The less aggressive bears who remained in the woods survived to have cubs. Do you see where I’m going?
As time went along, the humans claimed more and more of the woods, and if a bear stood his or her ground, out came the rifle. (Let me clear, the human came out with the rifle. Bears have never learned to shoot with any accuracy. If they had, a bear would be telling this story instead of me, and his claws would be doing serious damage to the keyboard.)
Now, a hundred years of eliminating bears who wished to stand their ground and declare “I have a right to be here!” has passed and with each generation of cubs born from the meekest of the Please-Don’t-Shoot-Me Bears, our current day NJ bears are an embarrassment to the PNBB society of bears. (51 word sentence)
Currently, our local police forces will shoot a bear for just about anything: strolling into a backyard, eating a pet rabbit left in an outdoor cage, tossing the garbage, or even napping in trees near a house.
The population has become so timid, that my dog and I have encountered two females with cubs and the females did not attack. In one case, mamma bear didn’t even bother to show up and complain and in the other, the mother lost track of her cub as she played Peek a boo behind a tree with me. (I’m not making that up. It really happened.)
We also ran into a giant 600 pound fellow who was only 30 yards away. My dog barked up a storm, saying all sorts of things about his manhood and mother, yet the bear never once bared his teeth. He just looked at me, looking at him. (He was the biggest bear I’ve seen in real life, and I had absolutely no fear of him at all. He didn’t get that big by scaring people. (Scaring people is also a shooting offense.) His silence said, “I’m just here for the garbage, ma’am. Just walk on and take that annoying fox with you.”
(Jess did not appreciate the fox slur and called him a spineless cow in return.)
Currently a peace has settled between human cockroaches and wimpy NJ bears. We can safely walk our patches of wilderness, and they can live as long as they don’t frighten or annoy us.
So what does our dopey, dare I say ‘rotund’ governor do? He reinstates bear hunting season. Now the peace is broken and for one week our woods are unsafe to travel in due to lunatic hunters.
I’m inviting the bears to next year’s bear hunt protest. They’ll be very docile, I promise. In fact, we’ll put clothes on them so no one realizes they are bears.
But we human cockroaches and our wimpy bears have a right to protest. Unlike the police who have been so kind to remove the aggressive bears, the hunters just want to shoot the biggest bear…or any bear for that matter. And in doing so they are messing up our secret ‘breeding wimps’ program and both my dog and I want it stopped.
Or we’ll send you to Montana….
Yes this is a reprint from my other blog, but only five people read it and I wanted it to have a bigger audience.