- Tue, May 12, 2009, 12:55 A
Bear Attacks Ewe in Montague Center (pub 4.30.09)
Since there's been some discussion of this story here on the corkboard, here is the article itself. Please note that the writer is Mollie Fuller, a sixth grader.
Bear Attacks Ewe in Montague Center
At about 7:30 a.m. on April 20th, we were sitting in the playroom and eating breakfast, when Jazzie, my one-year-old English shepherd, scratched at the door to go out. My dad got up to let her out, and when he closed the door, he heard her barking.
He commanded, “Jazzie! No bark!” but she kept right on barking. When he went out to yell at her again, he was soon yelling at something over by the sheep pen.
He came inside the house and as quickly as possible he put on his muck boots, and went out to the barn and threw a bucket, yelled, and flailed his arms. When he came back inside the house, he said, “There was a bear inside the sheep pen and I think the bear nearly killed Burdie!”
When he said that, my mom leaped off the futon, and ran over to the door to put on her muck shoes. Then they both went out there to make sure the bear was far away in the woods.
They were out there quite a long time, and I just stayed inside.
When my mom came back inside, she told me that the bear had scratched Burdie across the throat, bit her back, and bit her udder. She also called the Enviromental Police, so they could track the bear down and, hopefully, shoot it.
I know it’s sad, but because Burdie was suffering and struggling, my dad had to slit her throat so she would be out of her misery. Then my dad dragged her out of the sheep pen, and put her in a wagon, and pulled the wagon down to the woods, where he skinned her.
When my mom and I went down to check on my dad, he had skinned the ewe and was starting to take the organs out. We told him we were going to the Greenfield Farmers Supply in Greenfield to get stuff to feed the triplet lambs.
When we got back home, the Environmental Police came and asked us what had happened.
For me, the best part was that the Environmental Police brought their two hounds to search for the bear. When they brought the dogs to where the bear had been, I for sure thought the dogs had picked up the scent, but when one policeman came up from the field he said the dogs hadn’t picked up on anything. I was very bummed out.
The dogs headed off our property, so one of the environmental policemen jumped into a truck and followed the dogs. The officer knew where the dogs were going because they had radio collars and bells around their necks.
The officer who had stayed with us said he was willing to come during the evening and just keep an eye on things.
Before they left, they set a trap and put some meat in it to entice the bear. We looked at the trap through binoculars probably every 15 to 20 minutes to see if the trap was closed. Sadly, it never was.
Since neither of my parents felt like cooking, we went out to dinner at the Lady Killigrew. We had a nice time playing cards and eating food.
After dinner, when we drove down our driveway and were almost to the garage, my mom all of a sudden cried, “Oh my god! There it is!”
The bear was by the ram pen, and about to climb up a tree. My dad leaped out of the car and ran toward the bear and scared it away from the animals.
While he was doing that, my mom ran inside and called the Environmental Police again. While my parents were dealing with the bear, I was shivering and crying with fear in the car. I locked myself in.
When the bear went into the nearby field, my dad came over to the car and told me the bear was lying down and chewing on Jazzie’s yellow ball. He took me inside, and I kept an eye on the bear from there.
After about ten minutes, my mom finally called the Environmental Police again, and the person who answered the phone said, “They’re a few minutes away, Ma’am.”
They finally arrived. I was hoping they would bring the dogs, but they didn’t. My parents showed the officer where the bear was. It was behind the barn, walking away. The officer shot and hit it. Then he shot it again so the bear wouldn’t run away wounded. After the bear took a few steps, it stumbled and fell down dead.
I was inside when this happened. I didn’t want to see the bullet, or the bear. I was quite happy when my mom said it was dead.
My mom went outside to see it with the officer. Once again, I stayed inside. When she came back, she told me the bear was a three or four-year-old female who hadn’t had cubs yet. And I’m happy she hadn’t had them yet, because then her cubs wouldn’t come back and do the same as their mom.
The bear would still be coming back if it weren’t for my parents, the hounds, and the environmental police.
Mollie Fuller is a sixth grader at the Greenfield Center School