This morning when I went outside to fill the bird feeder, I found evidence that indicated we were secretly visited last night. There on the ground beside the driveway was a chewed up plastic milk carton. It had be snatched from our recycle tub on the carport, chewed, then carelessly dropped. I tagged the milk carton “Exhibit A.”
I then walked to the barn and filled up the coffee can full of sunflower seeds for the birds. When I got to the bird feeder, I discovered that it had been completely cleaned out of seeds. Usually there are a lot of seeds left over from the previous day by the wasteful birds. The empty bird feeder was “Exhibit B.”
Since Joan slipped on some fresh bear poop the other day, I was pretty confident who the main suspect was--the neighborhood black bear, trying to load up with food in preparation for a long winter of hibernation. I haven’t actually seen the bear this year, only the evidence of it’s presence.
If we still had Skye, I’m sure she would have sensed the critter, and gone into a ballistic barking fit inside the house, but these days (or more properly, nights) the bear gets a free pass.
Fortunately this year the bear didn’t tear up our fruit trees, which is always the most negative aspect of having them around. I am always happy to know bears still exist in the neighborhood, when nature is taking such a beating around the world.
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That looks like a milk jug after our dog has had her way with it. She first tears off the cap then the ring and spits them aside. We hear her chasing it around our gravel parking area till she tires of it. Here in the U.S. a green label means buttermilk .
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