 Radio Script 2001
Bears In My Backyard INTRO: For people who live in Alaska, encounters with wildlife are just part of the daily routine. It's one of the reasons many of us endure long winter months—for the chance to see a moose nose pressed against a window, or a porcupine waddle through the yard, or a fox, mouse dangling from its jaw, lope across the road. But sometimes, encounters with wildlife aren't exactly welcome. In this week's Arctic Science Journeys radio, writer and editor Andy Hall recalls one eye-opening experience with a hungry bear. STORY: A feral cat had been digging through our trash, had beaten up our delicate house kitty, and was growing more brazen with each encounter. Its latest offense was a few nights earlier when it slipped into the house through Speck's cat door and ate food right out of her dish. So, when I heard the scratching and pawing in the carport one morning on my way to work, I figured it was my chance to teach the outlaw feline a lesson. I selected a rock hefty enough to inflict sufficient pain, crept to the corner, cocked my arm and leaped. Expecting to find the cat pawing through an overturned garbage can, I was surprised to find myself face to snout with a black bear. We locked eyes for one strong heartbeat before the bear spun and ran out the back of the carport, tromped through the vegetable garden and bounded up the mountainside. At least, I think that's what it did. I'm not sure because I didn't hang around to watch. I was busy retreating myself, backpedaling toward the front door. Once inside, I alerted my wife, Melissa, and we bounded up the steps to the second floor to scan the backyard from the safer vantage point. We got to the deck just in time to see the animal's back end disappear into the trees and underbrush. I waited a good half-hour before we agreed the bear was gone for good and I could leave for work. It was then I realized that I was still clutching the rock tightly in my hand. The encounter was my fault. We had eaten moose the night before and I made the mistake of putting the bloody freezer wrap out in the garbage can. I thought we could get away with one night of smelly trash. I was wrong. You'd think I'd know better—I grew up here—but every now and then I get a little sloppy. Here, and anywhere else wild animals share space with people, such sloppiness can result in tragedy, usually for the animal. Occasionally for the human. I was lucky to run into that bear. The encounter was like a tap on the shoulder and wag of the finger from Mother Nature reminding me to be careful because powerful forces are at work in the natural world. That bear outweighed me by at least 200 pounds and if the back of the carport hadn't been open, I might not be telling such a lighthearted tale. Now, we're careful about what we put in the trash. And in the years since that encounter we still see an occasional bear pass by on the hill above our house, but none has given us a second look. Oh, and that feral cat? We never saw it again. I don't know whether the bear had anything to do with that, but I like the idea. OUTRO: When not outrunning hungry bears, Andy Hall is the executive editor of Alaska magazine. He and his wife, Melissa, live in Anchorage. Andy is a regular contributor to Arctic Science Journeys Radio, which is produced by the Alaska Sea Grant Program and the University of Alaska Fairbanks. Audio version and related Web sites (sidebar at top right) Thanks to the following individual for help preparing this script: Andy Hall, Executive Editor Arctic Science Journeys is a radio service highlighting science, culture, and the environment of the circumpolar north. Produced by the Alaska Sea Grant College Program and the University of Alaska Fairbanks.
Alaska Sea Grant In the News The URL for
this page is http://seagrant.uaf.edu/news/ |
Listen to story on RealAudio Related Web sites |
