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Three AM Visitors or "Lessons Learned"


Jimbo

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I just moved to a different neighborhood in Colorado Springs that seems to have an abundance of wildlife, especially deer.

A little poem about last night's "visitors".

Suffering as I am from a midsummer's cold

I was snoring up a storm or so I was told.

I went to my easy chair to repose

So the draining of sinuses could clear up my nose.

There were NO visions of sugarplums dancing in head

Scantily-clad women were prancing instead.

When out in the driveway there arose such a clatter

I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash

And looked out to see a couple of BEARS in my trash.

"AWAY, Urlacher! GET, Sosa!" I yelled to the Bear and her Cub

And Mama stood up as if to say "What's the rub?"

"There's plenty of trash for you and for me"

"Little Sammy and I are hungry you see"

Then she spoke not a word but went straight to her work

And I continued to yell and to scream like a jerk.

She did not get angry, she did not even vent

She turned, and with Sammy, down the driveway they went.

She knew there were other tasty morsals about

Tomorrow was trash day and cans would be out

But I heard her exclaim as the two ambled on

"You should keep your cans in the garage from now on".

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I gotta admit. Yelling at a bear to go away and have it stand up on it's hind legs is a little unnerving. Fortunately, the only wildlife I have left to see here is a mountain lion and that's one thing I hope I never see up close and personal.

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A couple I know own a ranch just outside Yellowstone. Big place. Great house, corral, stable ... like that.

Gentleman wakes up middle of the night this past spring to sound of wood splintering outside ... and a couple of big crashes.

Grabs artillery, storms out front door.

Tack barn about 50 yards from the main house ... the one where he had stored a couple 50lb. grain sacks the previous afternoon.

Spies both doors laying in a splintered heap, about ten feet from the barn. Talkin' serious doors here ... couple inches thick, 7 feet tall, 3 big-time steel hinges -- the kind designed to survive Montana winters.

And there's mama grizzly, serenely making the grain sacks available to her 2 cubs for a midnight snack.

Gentleman looks at bear. Bear looks at gentleman.

Gentleman, still partly in sleep mode, reacts to proprietary instinct over loss of grain, clicks off safety ... and takes step forward.

Bear looks at him.

Bear slowly stands up ... and up.

Gentleman, suddenly no longer groggy from sleep, reacts to million years of biological instinct ... offers cheesy grin ... and goes quietly back into house.

The new doors are some impressive mothers.

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The momma Grizzly just might go thru the side of the barn next.:rotflmao:

She doesn't have to go thru the doors to gain access to the goodies with in.

A buddy of mine bought a new house from a PA. builder a few years back and asked me to go with him a few times to check on the new homes progress. I found out they used thermaply for the sheathing. I told him he better get a motion detector alarm when it is finished because someone could break into his house with a utility knife.:rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao:

Thermaply is like styrofoam. You could cut thru the siding and sheathing with a knife and slide thru the 2x4 bay in the wall to get in. I just shook my head. For some odd reason the bear story reminded me of this. I hope the walls on his barn are solid.;)

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Thermaply is like styrofoam. You could cut thru the siding and sheathing with a knife and slide thru the 2x4 bay in the wall to get in.

That's just amazing. I can't believe someone would actually build/buy a house made with something that flimsy.:rolleyes:

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Ain't big critters fun.......................

When I was in the boy scouts, we had a summer camp way up state in NY. Bears out the ying yang. You would have to burn out any empty cans from food and such so they wouldn't smell anything attracting them into camp.

The PUTZ that I had to share a tent with had gotten a package from home that had brownies in it. Go figure, Charlie goes into our tent on the sly, and eats all the brownies. God only knows how much of the brownies wound up on the floor.

We also had a visitor that night. Don't know how to describe the feeling of waking to the sound of a branch breaking, and hearing movement behind your tent. I look to the other side of the tent, and Charlie's eyes are wide open staring at me. I wispered, "ya think somebody is messin with us?" He shook his head....NO. "I still have some brownies hidden under my bunk" he wispers back. I wanted to kill him. By the time I could get my sneekers on, you could hear a large animal sniffing and rooting around just outside the rear of the tent. That was good enough for me. SOP was to bolt while screeming BEAR. I counted three, and we were gone. The rest of our troop wasn't far behind. By the time the rangers got there, the bear had trashed our tent, eaten the last of the brownies, and scared the snot out of a bunch of 13 year olds.

Charlie got put on a bus home the next morning. They knew the troop, scout master included, would have killed him.

Another night, some dope figures it would be fun to steal some sugar and dump it all around and in one of the larries. Now black bears aren't nearly as big as other bears, but it did a pretty good job leveling a wood and tin three man out house.

On a side note, The camp land had been JP Morgan's hunting and fishing retreat. The lodge was amazing, and has to be one of the prettiest places on earth.

:smoke:

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