As you’ll recall, Luke installed video surveillance on the property after the garage got robbed a few weeks ago. This turned out to be a very opportune thing, in light of the damage caused by a group of marauding bruins.
On Thursday morning, our garbage day, I let the dogs out as usual, and they didn’t return. I looked out the kitchen window to see if I could find them, and saw the heavy city garbage can on wheels had been knocked over. Naturally the dachshunds were busily chomping on the contents.
Once I had the dogs inside, I went out and got a shovel and broom and cleaned the week-old garbage off the carport floor and steps leading up to the sliding door. While doing that I heard water rushing in the yard. I went to the water box where all of the irrigation lines originate, and found a line broken, water spewing out and the box full to the brim.
On the way back to the house I looked down do my vegetable garden and saw my bee hive was smashed to pieces! Now I was beginning to wonder what on Earth had roamed our property in the night, and when Nicky got up I told him to replay the night’s tape.
In the meantime, I was phoning landscapers and Denis, trying to figure out how to turn off the rushing water. The box was about to overflow, at which point an awful lot of water was going to whoosh into the neighbour’s yard. And these are the neighbours who are very odd to boot, so it wouldn’t have been good.
The only answer seemed to be to find the valve at the bottom of the box, and turn it off with a big metal T shaped implement. Nicky and I both tried, but with three feet of turbulent water on top of the valve, and the gushing cold water hitting us in the face, we couldn’t find it.
Finally Brent, the landscaper, sent his stepfather to come and try to turn off the water. Brent’d been fooling with it the day before, and thought maybe he’d done something stupid. However, this turned out not to be the case.
When his stepdad came with a friend, they marched to the box, one held a piece of plywood against the rushing water, the valve was now easily visible, and voila! They turned off the water and the catastrophe was averted.
Meanwhile Nicky had replayed the night’s tape, and the story it told was a fascinating one. First one sees bears bounding toward the camera, their eyes red in the darkness. Then you hear the garbage being knocked over, and then you see them up close: a mom black and not one, not two, but three cubs!
I guess at first they must’ve slapped the bee hive around, then came up the fence line, and stepped on the irrigation pipes. Brent later looked at them and said a great deal of weight came down on them to break one like that. Then the bears found the garbage and enjoyed a feast of that.
Once full they left piles of bear dung in the yard, and I guess sauntered away to sleep it off somewhere. Now I have the garbage can itself inside the little shed on the top of the driveway, and the door is kept shut. I love animals, but honestly, I have to draw the line at a family of bears.