cruel facts of nature

Two weeks ago I passed a cinnamon colored bear as I drove down our dirt road on my way into town. We live in the country, but not that much in the mountains. The rest of the day I excitedly told skeptical people about my encounter. Then, that evening the bear came down to our house and ravished my mother-in-law's beehive. My father-in-law even tried to chase him off swinging a hoe over his head. My in-laws are no strangers to bears, having shot one years ago when they lived in the mountains of Washington (a story I'm excited to become part of Joachim's family folklore). Unfortunately, they were helpless to against this bear.

He ate 50-60 lbs of honey and demolished the hive. This was a sad, heartbreaking and somewhat sickening way to see the bees end.
The Wildlife guy who came out to assess the damage was unsympathetic and said the bear would probably be back for the chickens. The bear did come back to check on the hive, but since it's all been cleaned up we haven't seen him.

It felt like such a violation that when I was at a yard sale and I picked up a Whinnie the Pooh book for Joachim, it wasn't at all cute to me because when I read it, it was all about Pooh looking for and devouring honey.

I don't know if she'll start a new hive or not.