Enjoying a lovely late summer evening in America's Northwoods. Good friends, good wine, lots of laughs. All of sudden TJ says, "Oh, my God!" I turn around expecting to see a cool loon or a spiffy boat. Instead I see a bear cub running past us about 10 yards away.
We collectively gasp. Of the 5 in the group, 4 start running for the house. TJ has an armful of wine bottles and Reidel stemware. (If she was on the Titanic, she would have taken a whole lifeboat for her and the wine.) I grabbed nothing but my panic and headed for the safety of the indoors. (See here for how I have handled life-threatening in the past.)
As we're all running for our lives (not because bear cubs are scary but mama bears certainly are) Tam wanted to say hello and "pet the bear." A couple of us stopped in disbelief. This ain't Boo Boo looking for Yogi or Mr. Ranger or a puppy. Tam's hubby grabbed her arm and pulled her kicking and screaming into the house. All evening she has been stating her case as to why we were never in danger and the bear wanted to make some new friends.
The adreneline rush will keep me awake for awhile. Guess I'll surf the Hannah Barbera website to pass the time.
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