Does a bear give a shit?

Does a bear give a shit if you're in the woods when there's a herd of cattle going by?

If a crap fell in the forest, would you ever have known the bear was there to hear?

Why didn't the bear cross the road? Because the truck, the people, the dog and the herd of cattle were betwen him and the creek on the other side.

Yep. It was the place to be that morning. A forest service road on the side of Highway 6 at the point where it wanders down out of the Monashees and makes for the Needles ferry terminal.

First it was just us and the dog. Me making coffee on the tailgate of the truck. We were in our seats, having those glory first sips when the cattle started showing up. Drifting up the road in the dusty sunshine of a summer morning. A few at first, gradually thickening into a herd. I jumped out and tied the dog in the back, hopped back in the cab just before we were surrounded.

Cows are actually kinda cool. Philosophical faces even when forced into an early morning walk. If there are enough of them stepping rythmicaly by, they actually take on a kind of a migrational cachet. Part of the great order of things. seasonal. Tidal. Pushed along, ultimately, by an old cowboy guy in a battered Ford Explorer. With two bored-looking teenagers in the back.

The cows kept looking over their left shoulders at us, rather more skittishly, I thought, than our presence justified. Hesitant to pass, then going by in a fully committed little rush before sinking back into their funky amble on the other side.

We'd parked for the night right across a mossed over, defunct old road where it joined the main gravel track. I'd almost backed into it to get completely clear of the main road but I was tired and the wide spot created by the obsolete intersection was deemed pullout enough.

Something about the overreaction of the cattle, though, now got me shoulder checking away from them, down the old road. As the cowboy in the Explorer just about brought the rear up abreast of us. And sure enough, none of us were alone.

A huge, healthy, beautiful black bear was standing calmly in the middle of the old road. Watching it all go down between him and his morning drink of water on the other side of the main route.

We pointed him out, eyebrows went up, the cattle went by, the bear ran away cause if you're gonna, like, notice. The cowdude told us some bear stories that his kids were too cool for. A quick chat and they were on their way.

"You know what's funny?" Tammy said.

Just before the cows came along she'd been about to hit the bush to answer a serious natural call. Right about where the bear appeared.

Which, after a moment or two, she did.

The bear didn't give a shit whether she knew about his presence. He went the other way and got a drink somewhere else.