Why I Hate Bears.

Why I Hate Bears

With a violent concentration the bear began to pry the lid off of the propane can. Did he know of the impending danger? Was he aware of the fact that, at any moment, his brains and organs and knowledge and history and furry limbs could be blown apart? He growled and moaned, scratching at the propane can as if it were the skull of a reindeer.
It must have been luck that I wandered into this particular parking lot on this particular day, for I had remembered the story
of the lion with the thorn in his paw and the mouse that pulled it out. Oh, the lion’s gratitude. The whole idea intrigued me.
I ran to the bear, my intentions pure, and shoved him with the entirety of my strength. The bear was knocked on to his back and the propane can fell to the ground. Thank god, no explosion!
I casually walked over toward the liberated animal to receive his unspoken thanks. I had imagined it happening in such a profound way. He would look at me and I at him. He would make a quiet sort of grunt and I would knowingly nod my head. I shook with anticipation. The bear arose slowly, a bit bewildered maybe, and then looked straight into my eyes. It was the moment of acknowledgement! To play out my fantasy I nodded to the beast and, at that moment, had the deepest feeling that I had connected with nature.
He then slashed a generous hole in my stomach and walked back over to the propane can. I watched that ungrateful asshole scratch at the propane can and began to regret slightly assisting wildlife. But, I thought, perhaps it was all part of God’s larger plan. Maybe it was time for me to die. I pondered this for a while, and declared yes! This is what God has decided. He wanted all of this to happen. And I came to realize that I can’t be mad at myself and I can’t be mad at the bear. In fact I love the bear, for he is part of me and I of him. We are all a part of God. And as the significance of this situation and of my life began to sink in, the bear punctured the surface of the can. BOOM! The great bear was torn into hairy, fleshy shreds. I considered this event for a few seconds and then, with my last bit of energy, I yelled “Yeah, that’s right, fuck you bear.”