A dead cow.
That wasnoton my research list for what we’d need to know when moving to a ranch.
But it’s clearly a problem for today.
Right after thelivewild animal.
“Bear bear bear,” I mutter as I balance my daughter on my back and keep one eye on my phone search and one eye on the bear happily chowing down.
Also?
Ew,bear. Justew.
If this is its normal diet, that thing must have the immune system of a god.
“Cougar!” I say triumphantly as my internet search identifies a bear’s natural predator.
Kind of.
This website says bears this size don’t really have any natural predators, but if they do, this is my best shot.
“Mom!” Junie tries to grab my phone, and since she’s taller than I am, with longer arms, she nearly succeeds.“Don’t you—”
Before she can finish her sentence, I hit play on the YouTube video I’ve just found and dial the volume all the way up.
A lilting tune starts, and then a total silver fox starts talking. “Men, do you have trouble getting it up in the bedroom? I used to, too, until I found—”
“Mom!”
“Skip the ad!” I shriek at my phone.“Skip the ad!”
Junie and I are twisting and turning in the end room in the bunkhouse, which is getting hotter by the minute.
She’s trying to take my phone while still clinging to me like she’s small enough for piggyback rides.
I’m trying to skip the damn ad.
As I’m twisting and turning, I catch sight of the bear staring at us through just the screen window.
Why is the bunkhouse on ground level and not elevated?
Why why why?
This murder bear will eat us both in our sleep before we’ve made it a full two nights here.
And if it doesn’t, I get to learn who to call to dispose of a cow carcass.
Is there someone you call out here for cow-carcass removal?
This is not what I want to do today.
My finger connects with the right little words on the screen to skip the ad on the video as Junie gasps again. “Mom, there’s a—”
A mountain lion’s roar explodes out of my phone at full volume.
A horse neighs.
“Mother,”Junie gasps, drawing the word out into approximately eleven horrified syllables, which sounds impossible until you have a teenager.
