Herd of Bears

I was driving outside of the Black Hills and came upon a wildlife park there, claiming it had all sorts of animals, the park mascot was a mighty black bear. It was one of those drive-through attractions, I’d heard of them, but never done one before, I paid my fee, rolled up my windows, and then drove into the park to explore. There were deer and elk and some arctic wolves, some bison and a cougar feeding, and some caribou wandering about, it was pleasant to be there and seeing these critters up close, right next to the car, you just don’t get that sort of thing at zoos, and each paddock had grates to separate the herbivores from the ones that eat you. Next I drove to an enclosure that was maybe one hundred yards long on each side, I entered slowly, saw a sign for bear, which seemed to be the highlight of the ride. I expected maybe a bear of two, bruins are solitary creatures, see. I did not expect to find thirty bears, nor to see them all ambling up to me! Once before I had seen a live black bear, a hundred yards away hiking a trail, but three dozen of them mere feet away… I’ll admit that I felt my courage fail. Each one of them had the strength within their arms to come to this car and rip the door off, to any who claim they would feel no fear, I gotta say that I would laugh and scoff. The animal core that lurks in my brain knew these predators could rip me apart, for a bit I felt what my ancestors did, the cold, primal fear that lurked in their hearts. And though these bears were fell-fed and tame, accustomed to countless cars diving by, every time one did brush against the car some part of me screamed,”We’re all gonna die!” I can’t say I regret doing it once, though the more I think of it looking back, one herd of bears in enough for this life, so I hit the gas and drove down the track…