Deep in the heart of Colorado black bear country, after fifteen years of keeping chickens, last night a bear finally got into my main coop. Pandemonium and elevated blood pressure ensued. The chickens were also traumatized, but despite not being able to find two hens in the aftermath, they did turn up safe, so no loss of life.
However, the damage to the coop is major, as only a four-hundred pound boar bear can accomplish. He broke out one window, probably by standing up and leaning against the sliding glass door of the coop and crawled inside to try and snatch the chickens that were already roosting as it was sunset. Glass everywhere, and the glaring open window had to be secured somehow.
But first, I had to deal with the bear. You didn't think he would take the hint and just disappear, did you? Oh, no. He was standing right there fifteen feet from me, supremely irritated I had interrupted his bedtime snack. I had grabbed my shotgun with rubber bear loads on my way out of the house, so I gave him a round square in the chest. What's supposed to happen is the hard rubber balls sting so much, the bear runs off to never ever return, but this bear barely registered discomfort. Instead, he merely turned and sauntered a few feet then turned and stared at me insolently. I took a step toward him to close the distance so I could give him another round. He turned and strolled away. We did this slow walk for the next ten minutes, him stopping periodically to snort and snuffle at me. He finally stopped again within range and I fired another direct hit at him. That finally got the message through to him along with all the cursing I was doing, and he finally decided to run from me.
Back at the ranch my poor chickens were in a state of shock. The coop was a shambles, everything broken and bent inside and a gaping opening outside. But my immediate concern was to try to get plywood fastened over the broken window before it got dark and before the bear came back, which in my vast experience with bears assaulting my infrastructure, they always do. So I phoned my nearest neighbor for help. He had a sheet of plywood the right size and we got it up just in time, because the bear returned shortly after my neighbor left. That's when I decided to call in the Big Gun - the state wildlife officer whom I've known for twenty-eight years. He camped outside for the next four hours in case the bear came back a fourth time. At this writing, I don't know what happened after I went to bed.
I do have hot wire around the coops and runs, but it was off last night when the bear broke the window. I had just stepped into the house, intending to go back out in a few minutes to do a final roosting check and left the juice off. This is very likely the same damned bear that broke into my house last summer, being the same color and size. For that reason, the officer plans to bring a bear trap out today to catch this outlaw.
This thread will have updates as the saga unfolds. Because of course this story ain't over.
However, the damage to the coop is major, as only a four-hundred pound boar bear can accomplish. He broke out one window, probably by standing up and leaning against the sliding glass door of the coop and crawled inside to try and snatch the chickens that were already roosting as it was sunset. Glass everywhere, and the glaring open window had to be secured somehow.
But first, I had to deal with the bear. You didn't think he would take the hint and just disappear, did you? Oh, no. He was standing right there fifteen feet from me, supremely irritated I had interrupted his bedtime snack. I had grabbed my shotgun with rubber bear loads on my way out of the house, so I gave him a round square in the chest. What's supposed to happen is the hard rubber balls sting so much, the bear runs off to never ever return, but this bear barely registered discomfort. Instead, he merely turned and sauntered a few feet then turned and stared at me insolently. I took a step toward him to close the distance so I could give him another round. He turned and strolled away. We did this slow walk for the next ten minutes, him stopping periodically to snort and snuffle at me. He finally stopped again within range and I fired another direct hit at him. That finally got the message through to him along with all the cursing I was doing, and he finally decided to run from me.
Back at the ranch my poor chickens were in a state of shock. The coop was a shambles, everything broken and bent inside and a gaping opening outside. But my immediate concern was to try to get plywood fastened over the broken window before it got dark and before the bear came back, which in my vast experience with bears assaulting my infrastructure, they always do. So I phoned my nearest neighbor for help. He had a sheet of plywood the right size and we got it up just in time, because the bear returned shortly after my neighbor left. That's when I decided to call in the Big Gun - the state wildlife officer whom I've known for twenty-eight years. He camped outside for the next four hours in case the bear came back a fourth time. At this writing, I don't know what happened after I went to bed.
I do have hot wire around the coops and runs, but it was off last night when the bear broke the window. I had just stepped into the house, intending to go back out in a few minutes to do a final roosting check and left the juice off. This is very likely the same damned bear that broke into my house last summer, being the same color and size. For that reason, the officer plans to bring a bear trap out today to catch this outlaw.
This thread will have updates as the saga unfolds. Because of course this story ain't over.
