Oh boy fun fun. I just heard a bit of a ruckus out in the back yard — it sounded like something went over the fence into the dog run, then had trouble getting over the fence from the dog run into the back yard. At first I thought it might be a deer, but deer don’t often have trouble clearing the fence and I’ve never known one to have trouble twice in short order. Hmmm…
I went out onto the deck, which hangs off of the second floor, and as soon as I got there I heard that unmistakable “woof” that only a bear can make. Right under the deck, too. For just an instant I tried to convince myself that maybe it was just a large buck deer, as they can make a similar noise, but then I heard the jaw popping that is a bear’s way of saying “fuck with me and I’ll bite your fool head off”. So I came back inside the house, since I don’t like being too close to bears that I cannot see. He’d already made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood to be trifled with and my little pocket flashlight wasn’t much comfort. I made my way downstairs to look out through the windows, but there wasn’t anyone or anything out of the ordinary to be seen. Damn. I was kinda hoping to get a better look at the critter that made the noise.
I dreamt a few weeks ago of having a run-in with a bear. In the dream I was out in the garage just minding my own business when the dream-bear came partly through the window and was trying to make it all the way through — the first application of Ye Olde Hickory Stick knocked it unconscious, and repeated applications kicked the ghost out of the carcass. I woke up before finding out if the fish cops would let me keep the hide. I kinda figure that a guy who lets the ghost out of a bear with a stick deserves to keep the rug, but I suppose the fish cops would probably figure it differently. I don’t really want to find myself in a tangle with a bear with nothing more than a stick as a weapon anyway.
I used to have threatening dreams all the time, dreams of being chased but able to move only in slow motion as if fighting against a strong wind that affected only me, dreams of gunfights and physical violence, automobile wrecks, and the like. I was able to shake them off easily enough because when they were common I was often threatened and was without any meaningful control over my life so they made sense to me. That’s just how it goes when you’re in relationships with pathological narcissists and/or psychopaths, as I was with my parents as a child and again, stupidly, with my second wife. The strange part was that while married to my second wife I had a rash of precognitive dreams that were so detailed that when the events later unfolded I could give the license plate numbers of cars whose plates weren’t yet visible, describe what someone who hadn’t yet been seen would be wearing and what they would do once they arrived, and so on.
I freaked out a friend once by telling him what was about to happen because I’d seen it in a dream. That was kind of fun. It was also kind of disturbing, because most of my precognitive dreams broke with the eventual reality at the point at which they became violent, and in that one the guy at the national forest campground who got out of the green Chevy pickup truck wearing a plaid flannel shirt reached into the bed of his truck and took out a rifle with which to shoot us. In reality, what he took out of the bed of the truck was a black Hi-Lift jack.
At forty yards, it could easily enough be mistaken at first glance for a shotgun or assault rifle. And my buddy and I were both armed… It was a bit nervous, but I’d thought to warn my friend that while my precognitive dreams all ended violently the reality very rarely ended that way. That guy in the plaid flannel shirt with the jack in his hand doesn’t know how close he was to getting ventilated over a stupid damn dream.
If tonight’s bear was the eventual reality of a precognitive dream he was a real disappointment because I didn’t even get to see him. I’m a bit unhappy with him for coming around my damn house and popping his jaw at me, but I can’t really blame him for wanting to stay out of the rain and not be bothered by a two-leg.
But if he gives me any trouble tonight I’m gonna run his ass clean down off the mountain and if he won’t be run off Miss Autumn’s going to get herself her very own bearskin rug because I am never in the mood to put up with shit from animals wild or otherwise.