Montana black bear encounter reveals a surprising guest

Cookie & Keller
Oct 20, 2015
3 min read

Updated: May 19

BEAR MAKES HIS MARK ON OUR SUMMER HIDE-OUT, BUT WE ARE ALL FOUR FINE AND 'BEARLY' UPBEAT

Inside our house, the wreckage after a bear searched for an exit and shredded bamboo blinds, ransacked books and music and broke pottery, leaving paw prints galore — *Once inside, our bear searched for an exit and shredded bamboo blinds, and broke pottery, leaving paw prints galore.*

A buttery bear paw print on the window tells the story of a break-in — *A buttery paw print tells the story. Mr. Bear ate lightly, but was anything but dainty in his exit. It is eerily human-like, a la "Day of the Living Dead."*

STORY By CHRISTENE MEYERS

PHOTOS By BRUCE KELLER

"The Carpe Diem Kids"

WE'D BEEN GONE just 50 hours from our home in rural Montana.

High Chaparral has been a family sanctuary for nearly a quarter-century.

Our bear guest scaled the countertop above the dishwasher, pulled down the knives, broke a butter dish, opened drawers — Our guest scaled the countertop above the dishwasher, pulled down the knives, broke a butter dish and licked it clean. He opened a few cupboards, too.

Montana Black bear encounter, insights, perspective

We've had raccoons, mountain lions, lynx, elk, the proverbial deer and antelope, and of course plenty of mice, squirrels, voles, moles and skunks. (Nick, the male Yorkie, has been "de-skunked" almost as many times as he's been taken to the groomer.)

Black bear hugging front yard tree outside our living room

The 1881 Log Room was the scene of the most damage, and the place of entry. Vintage photos were ripped from the walls, glass shattered and paw scratches on hand-colored prints.

Now please don't accuse me of gender bias, but I call the intruder Mr. Bear, to simplify the telling of the story.

WE PULLED into the drive-way, a Montana Black bear encounter is upon us.

I trotted up the hill, as is my custom, to change the hoses, leaving Keller to unlock the place and unload groceries, our usual division of labor.

"Cooks, come here," he hollered.

"Can it wait?" I asked.

"No. Pronto."

"Are you alright? Are the Yorkies okay?"

"Yes, but we've had a visitor."

Bear bear with scruffy winter coat in our Nye Montana yard

Boy, had we. And the visitor made one helluva mess. After a melt-down from the destruction in the log room -- I picked myself up, dusted myself off, sipped the wine Keller poured, and began a list of damages and loss: the craziest, a cube of butter and honey jar.

I CALLED 911 (only the third time I've done so in my life -- the other two were medical emergencies for my late husbands.) Two deputies arrived from the Absarokee area, 28 miles away, in a speedy 25 minutes. Before they pulled into the drive, we called our insurance company to report the incident, still not sure if it were really a bear, as Keller speculated.

Mr. Bear left claw marks and holes on the door from his talons — Gouge marks from Mr. Bear's talons. There are dozens.

While the police investigated our personal Montana black bear encounter, we continued our list of damages: photographs, curtains, picture frames, walls, canvases of oils, a treasured lamp, several lamp shades flattened when Mr. Bear must have stepped on them. The woodwork damage was the greatest. All three of the rooms Mr. Bear intruded bear his bear trademark: gouges, claw marks, ripped off door casings and trim -- accented with the buttery prints he left on windows.

The broken window through the bear entered the house — Here's where Mr. Bear broke in.

WHEN THE law officers finished their investigation, they confirmed Keller's suspicions: bear or bears, probably young (two or three years) and neophytes in break-in. Mr. Bear did not go upstairs (thank goodness no one was sleeping in our bed!), nor did he leave bear scat. He did urinate on the beautiful carpets several times; the Yorkies were fascinated by that.

Black bear in the Bruce Meyers memorial garden at our Nye Montana home

Do we wish ill for Mr. Bear and his species? Absolutely not. He was being a bear. Period.

As Keller said, "We're unhurt. The Yorkies are fine. Perspective, Cookie."

And as my sister Olivia and my friend Ruth said, "It's a helluva story, Cookie."

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