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The family had just returned from a drive, and Papa
Human was dismayed when he saw the trash cans tipped over
and strewn garbage. Who's been meddling with my
yard?
he bellowed as they stepped inside.
Who's been eating in my kitchen?
horrified Mama
Human shrieked when she saw the devastation that extended
from shattered microwave to ransacked refrigerator. My
room, you wouldn't believe my room,
sobbed Baby Human.
It's totally trashed.
Mama Human started to ask Who'd know the
difference?
but before she could speak, at least a
dozen bears shuffled into the living room. They carried
banners and placards, and seemed to be grunting something
like Hell no, we won't go.
What are you doing here? What do you want?
Papa
Human asked, trying to sound braver than he felt. If only
he could get to the garage, where he kept the 12-gauge. Or
even to the phone, but its cord was chewed in two.
The bears turned to their spokesbruin, who carried a
spade and wore bib overalls with a broad-brimmed hat.
Some respect,
the bear announced. For 40 years
they've been dressing me in this ridiculous outfit, trying
to make me something I'm not. My likeness has appeared
millions of times in advertisements, and do I ever see so
much as a nickel of royalties?
Papa Human relaxed a bit. This bear seemed reasonable.
Please, Smokey, don't take it out on me. I paid
attention to you. I never started a forest fire.
Fat lot of good that did,
Smokey growled. Now
they're saying that preventing little forest fires for all
those years just leads to bigger fires down the road. I've
been used. I'm sick of it.
Before any Humans could respond, another bear spoke up.
I'll tell you what we want. The same things you want,
like junk food. Every time I cruise into Vail for some
Twinkies and cold fries, there's a big hue and cry, and the
game wardens always explain that the stuff I like is
garbage, and not a good diet for bears. Then they trap me
and haul me off, like I was an illegal immigrant.
Immigrant? Hey, who was here first? And besides, if that
food is bad for bears, it must be bad for people, too, and
nobody shoots at people just for wanting some sugar and
fat.
Don't be so sure,
Baby Human soothed, recalling
the last diet lecture she had received at school.
A glazed-eyed cub spoke up. And when you Humans want
tranquilizers, you can just take one. Used to be that when
a sow got frazzled, she could just amble into town, and
presto, she got a nice big shot of Thorazine. She could
just ease off and get a ride back to the woods. But things
are getting too tense, man, now that you're using bullets
instead of downers. Are you using us to test the next round
of your war on drugs?
All quieted as a grizzled patriarch stood and spoke.
Our image is stereotyped,
he complained.
Baby Human spoke up. But I like bears.
Exactly. You like those cute and cuddly teddy bears
and Care Bears, Sugar Bear and Winnie the Pooh. Or some
half-wit stage act like Yogi and Boo-Boo. Then there are
terrible bears, like the menacing Russian bear of the
1950s, or the Wall Street bears that cause stock-market
crashes. But there is nothing in between. We demand to be
accepted as individuals, not as symbols or toys.
I'm beginning to understand
said Mama Human, who
had carried her share of banners in various marches.
You'd better,
Smokey concluded. The Ursine
Liberation Front has just begun. We're going to get some
respect, and we're starting to take back what's ours:
Albuquerque, Vail, Evergreen, all the mountain campgrounds.
You want to live in bear country, you better learn how to
put up with bears, because we've given up on trying to
learn how to put up with you.
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