One even drained a pitcher of Sangria
By Bob Bumcrot

A black bear looks quite comfortable and at home strolling up Maple Avenue.Photograph by Michael KellyBy Bob Bumcrot

Between Memorial Day and mid-July bears have invaded at least seven homes on or near North Street, Doolittle Drive, Lovers Lane and adjacent areas. As usual, the bears came in search of food, often with considerable success. In some cases their gustatory visits were discovered after the fact; in others the creatures were driven away by shouting and other noises.

Martha Mullins chased one furry visitor from her front hallway, to her pool house and into the woods. The Marolda’s kitchen pantry was entered and torn part. Butter was consumed from Pepe Lopez’s refrigerator, ice cream from the Roseman’s freezer and fruit from the Moskowitz’s kitchen. The Moore’s garbage was invaded twice.

On Bastille Day a bear was trapped near Bald Mountain. Trapped bears are often tagged and transported to other areas. Several of the current culprits have been seen wearing tags, with at least one sporting two.

Doolittle Webmaster Melissa Robinson posted advice gleaned from trackers and other experts, including: put bird feeders and grills away; close first floor doors and windows; keep dogs on leash; clean up decaying mulch; if invaded, honk a boat horn, bang pots and pans and shoot the critter’s backside with a BB or a paintball gun.

Not everyone agrees with these modes of prevention. Sue Mansfield, biologist and treasurer of the Wildlife Research Institute in Ely, Minnesota, believes that black bears can be semi-domesticated and taught to eat healthy, natural food. She has often fed the animals directly from her hand. Although Mansfield and Institute leader Lynn Rogers have the support of at least 7,300 local petitioners, their approach runs counter to the official position of state authorities: “Please dDon’t Feed The Bears.”

The Institute’s research funds have been withdrawn. While much more peaceful than the dreaded grizzly, institute records indicate 61 deaths from black bears since 1900.

Libby Borden’s North Street home has been invaded three times. On Memorial Day, food was taken from a porch table. She told her daughter-in-law not to leave food out, but she forgot to tell her son. On a later occasion he left a pitcher of Sangria on the table. A hungry interloper drained it, leaving claw marks on the container. More recently, Borden heard loud insistent scratching at her door. She raised a great ruckus filled with threats and insults, which drove the creature away-probably, alas, to the Marolda’s kitchen.

Determined to put an end to these unwanted visits, Borden draped her large, fearsome bearskin rug over a chair in full view of future invaders, with a sign warning them that thus would be their fate. No bears have been sighed since.