Getting One's Bearings

As I strolled in from a run on a typically cool and quiet evening, I thought it odd that the lights were on at our neighbors Gary and Kim’s, especially this time of night, but I coasted up our driveway and a flight of stairs to slip quietly into the house. Aspen had long been asleep and the dogs were closed in with her. As I was hanging my running clothes I could hear the mutts making a commotion in the bedroom. I let them out, as not to wake her, thinking they were excited to see me. Once I opened the door, they bolted towards the patio, but I had closed the screen door, preventing them from going any further. They paced excitedly from the front to the patio doors in almost a frenzied state, the tempered ‘mruff…..mruff’ warning barks threatening to rouse Aspen from sleep. Finally, I flipped on the outside light, slid open the door and watched as the dogs peeled out, their nails treading in vain to turn the corner towards the patio gate. Fortunately for them the gate was closed, because on the driveway below was about a 400-lb black bear, dragging a full bag of trash away from the house. I had forgotten to close one of the garage doors for the night and he snuck in for a late-night snack. When the lights came on, he scuttled toward the nearest tree and attempted to climb it, before abandoning the idea and galloping down the driveway, claws clicking on the asphalt. The dogs were frantic by now, and Aspen stepped out on the porch, rubby-eyed and confused. I looked across the street to see the outlines of Gary and Kim, and I discovered that the bear had also paid them a visit. Apparently one of their burros, Mikey, spooked him over to our place. The encountered occurred so swiftly, I didn’t have time to get the camera. But the ensuing adrenaline rush will not be hibernating anytime soon.