"Good intentions will always be pleaded for every assumption of authority ... the Constitution was made to guard against the dangers of good intentions. There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters." - Noah Webster

"There is no worse tyranny than forcing a man to pay for what he does not want just because you think it would be good for him."
-- Robert A. Heinlein

Friday, April 1, 2011

They're Baaack

Well, it finally happened.  I've been in this house on this mountain for just over a year, and I've finally seen my first bear.  Live and in the flesh.  Thanks to the dogs Moxie and Beau.  Yes; the bears are back.

Moxie needs to learn that once the bear is a hundred yards off and still moving away, the alarm needs to stop.  She also needs to learn to come down off of "High Alert" once the bears have passed; that now everything that moves in the dark is not a potential threat.  We do need some sleep.

I know Twyla tends to write more about the animals than I do.  But today is one of those times I'll give you a break from the theological and the political.  And yes, I consider that last post in the political realm because ideas do have consequences.  I thought a lot about posting a follow up piece on that post below of the young moonbat below because I think it's important for people to understand why that presentation is so outrageous.  My, oh my, have I digressed from talking about bears.

If I remember right, it was between 02:00 and 03:00 that we were awakened to the sound of Moxie barking inside the house.  Beau was, of course, outside the house and barking.   This can not mean anything good.  Beau almost never barks.  Not at passing cars.  Then again; what passing cars?  One neighbor and a mailman.  When the UPS driver or FEDEX delivers, Moxie goes nuts.  Beau just hangs back and stays quiet, but looks intimidating.  If Beau is barking that alarm type bark, something is worth investigating.

I grab my trusty flashlight and head for the back door.  Out flies Moxie, that high pitched howling bark piercing the air.  My eyes still mostly acclimated to the dark, before I can even turn on the beam, I see a large shadow on the slope behind the house, barely twenty feet off the corner where our bedroom is.  He's going up the worn path that Moxie likes to run up into the tree line.  When the beam of my flashlight hits him, he stops to look at where it's coming from and I see those big green eyes that God designed to give such mammals the most amazing night vision that we could only dream of having.

He quickly decides it's time to move on and reaches the trees up above and I can see by how many trees he covers with the length of his body that he's a biggun'.  Gotta be 300 pounds at the least.  Probably more, but I don't want to sound like I'm embellishing this story.  Had I had my wits about me, I would have stepped into the office and grabbed my camera off my desk and maybe taken a picture.  But who thinks that well when they've been awakened from a sound sleep at that hour?

And poor Twyla was so tired from the days hard work, she wasn't about to get out of bed, so she missed seeing her first bear.

I am quite glad that this North American black bear was more afraid of me than I was of him.  I'm glad he was afraid of my two dogs. (Even though Beau is still in contract negotiations).  A good dog is a great thing to have as a living burglar alarm, as long as you properly train them.  Oh yeah, and I'm really glad trash collection happened earlier that afternoon.

Life in the mountains can have its exciting moments.  I'll try to get a picture next time.  Thanks for stopping by.


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