Described herein are two of the most dramatic wildlife experiences we have had as a family, so far.
I mentioned in my come-back post, "Oh, What?" that there had been an incident with a bat in the washing machine. To give some background, we moved to a relatively remote part of Montana in August. About two weeks after we arrived, I was doing some laundry. We had experienced our first real trial of back woods living when our septic system backed up and proceeded to leak black water from the bottom of our toilet. My husband soaked up the water with some towels and once we had the problem fixed I ran a load of wash that included said nasty towels and a rug that had previously sat directly around the toilet. The rug had been thrown over a bucket in the laundry room once we figured out what it had been soaking up, to be washed with the rest of the poo-water-soaked towels when the time came. As one might expect, I washed those suckers on hot for the longest time the washer allowed. Even though the days and nights were plenty hot to hang the washing out to dry, I wanted the added security of a hot dry cycle to kill any possible remaining poo-bugs. As I loaded the drier, I noticed a rather large and soggy piece of lint at the bottom of the washer. I thought to myself, "That's odd, I didn't wash anything that was that dark." As I picked up the lint I noticed that it was particularly felty feeling, not at all like the old rough towels and synthetic rug I had washed. Suddenly the shape and the texture came together in my mind: bat- wet, soggy, bat. I threw the drowned, ragged, lifeless body of the creature on the ground and shuddered heartily. I walked out into the kitchen and said to my husband, "I need you to go in there and tell me whether that's a bat on the ground."
Shocked and utterly confused, he walked in and confirmed what I already knew: I had inadvertently killed a poor bat in really a horrific way, then desecrated its body by throwing it with gusto to the ground. As close as we can figure it, the little fella climbed in the open washer sometime in the night and had gone to sleep. In the morning chill he was not able to register that I was throwing things into the washer and so didn't fly out. The other possibility was that it had gotten into the rug-covered bucket and was hanging from the rug when I picked it up and threw it into the washer. Either way, the poor little guy met a terrible end, for which I will feel
eternally sorry. As my sister said, "Peace be to that poor bat...." In homage, I briefly considered the following Halloween costume for MLO. Props to Pottery Barn for the adorable costume, but man, that kid sells it!
It's Fall, and here in our lovely valley the Birch and Cottonwood leaves are changing, the weather has cooled way down, and the fish have all left our pond for deeper waters. All the wildlife of our region are doing their best to put on some pounds before they bed down for winter. The berry crop was abysmal this year, and the glut of rain in the spring left the grass more tough than nutritious, so the entire food chain is feeling the effects of limited food. With that comes the inevitable attempt by our bigger and bolder predators to take advantage of the easy food supply that accompanies human settlement. Just a few weeks ago we had a 600 lb, 20 year old grizzly bear break into our closest neighbor's garage. Suffice it to say, Hubby and I are a bit on edge. Taking on a hungry animal 5 times your size, and likely willing to settle for eating you, is no small charge.
With the scene set let me explain our latest big adventure with Montana wildlife. Hubby and I were enjoying the last warm fall day forecasted for as far as anyone could tell. I sat, unarmed, in our expansive yard while Hubby unsuccessfully fished our empty pond, which we share with our nearest neighbor. Yes folks, this is the same neighbor whose garage had been ripped into by a gi-normous grizzly bear. As he was fishing he noticed some movement near the neighbor's house and looked up to find a very brown bear standing on its hind legs, both front paws on the window. The hubster began to yell and the bear looked over, then proceeded to ignore him completely. Hubby yelled for me to take the dogs in and get his firearms ready.
My brave, madman of a husband went over to the neighbor and did his darndist to scare off this bear. No charging car, honking horn, or gun-shots seemed to drive the animal away. Only when Hubby fired buck-shot at the ground near its feet did the animal flee. Hubby came back and immediately called the grizzly guy, with whom we had come to be on a first name basis. As he hung up the phone, the hubster looked out the window and exclaimed, "Holy sh*t, the effing bear is in our yard!!" He had crossed the pond and now stood somewhat bemused in our front yard area. Now within 20 feet or so we could see that it was a little black bear, that couldn't have weighed more than 120 lbs. Hubby tried to scare him off with bear spray (the can of which we had not used before and found out in this instance that it was frighteningly sub-par), pots and pans and yelling. To no avail! The beast merely ran up a nearby pine tree bordering the pond. Finally we waited for the bear to move in a direction that would allow us to chase him off, and move he did. He ambled casually to within 10 feet of our window, near which MLO was enjoying a mid-afternoon snack. As I picked up my son he pointed out the window and said happily, "Doggie! Nice, nice doggie. Give pets." That was not the reaction I was looking for, regardless of how adorable this little bear was.
Hubby was finally able to get close enough (yes, close enough) to spray the bear in the face, which should impart on the bear a healthy fear for people. We found out that this little fella had been orphaned as a cub, raised in captivity, and recently released in our area. The bear was only about a year and a half, and his upbringing explained the alarming disregard he had for people-threats. We learned that a bear does sh*t in the woods (I have footage of it), that black bears can look very, very brown, and that MLO is an unreliable detector of potentially threatening animals in the wild, not to be relied upon when hiking.
Shocked and utterly confused, he walked in and confirmed what I already knew: I had inadvertently killed a poor bat in really a horrific way, then desecrated its body by throwing it with gusto to the ground. As close as we can figure it, the little fella climbed in the open washer sometime in the night and had gone to sleep. In the morning chill he was not able to register that I was throwing things into the washer and so didn't fly out. The other possibility was that it had gotten into the rug-covered bucket and was hanging from the rug when I picked it up and threw it into the washer. Either way, the poor little guy met a terrible end, for which I will feeleternally sorry. As my sister said, "Peace be to that poor bat...." In homage, I briefly considered the following Halloween costume for MLO. Props to Pottery Barn for the adorable costume, but man, that kid sells it!
It's Fall, and here in our lovely valley the Birch and Cottonwood leaves are changing, the weather has cooled way down, and the fish have all left our pond for deeper waters. All the wildlife of our region are doing their best to put on some pounds before they bed down for winter. The berry crop was abysmal this year, and the glut of rain in the spring left the grass more tough than nutritious, so the entire food chain is feeling the effects of limited food. With that comes the inevitable attempt by our bigger and bolder predators to take advantage of the easy food supply that accompanies human settlement. Just a few weeks ago we had a 600 lb, 20 year old grizzly bear break into our closest neighbor's garage. Suffice it to say, Hubby and I are a bit on edge. Taking on a hungry animal 5 times your size, and likely willing to settle for eating you, is no small charge.
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| Tracks from the huge-mongous bear that broke into our neighbor's garage |
My brave, madman of a husband went over to the neighbor and did his darndist to scare off this bear. No charging car, honking horn, or gun-shots seemed to drive the animal away. Only when Hubby fired buck-shot at the ground near its feet did the animal flee. Hubby came back and immediately called the grizzly guy, with whom we had come to be on a first name basis. As he hung up the phone, the hubster looked out the window and exclaimed, "Holy sh*t, the effing bear is in our yard!!" He had crossed the pond and now stood somewhat bemused in our front yard area. Now within 20 feet or so we could see that it was a little black bear, that couldn't have weighed more than 120 lbs. Hubby tried to scare him off with bear spray (the can of which we had not used before and found out in this instance that it was frighteningly sub-par), pots and pans and yelling. To no avail! The beast merely ran up a nearby pine tree bordering the pond. Finally we waited for the bear to move in a direction that would allow us to chase him off, and move he did. He ambled casually to within 10 feet of our window, near which MLO was enjoying a mid-afternoon snack. As I picked up my son he pointed out the window and said happily, "Doggie! Nice, nice doggie. Give pets." That was not the reaction I was looking for, regardless of how adorable this little bear was.
Hubby was finally able to get close enough (yes, close enough) to spray the bear in the face, which should impart on the bear a healthy fear for people. We found out that this little fella had been orphaned as a cub, raised in captivity, and recently released in our area. The bear was only about a year and a half, and his upbringing explained the alarming disregard he had for people-threats. We learned that a bear does sh*t in the woods (I have footage of it), that black bears can look very, very brown, and that MLO is an unreliable detector of potentially threatening animals in the wild, not to be relied upon when hiking.
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| Our little black bear friend in our front yard |
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