But memories of the Bear State were briefly revived by virtue of a
front-page story the other day in the statewide daily, the Arkansas
Democrat-Gazette. The story was about Jo Bear, age 3, who is now safely
ensconced at a wildlife refuge. Before that, he'd resided in a makeshift
cage alongside the driveway of a rural homestead outside Paragould, Ark. But
it seems the neighbors, along with the bear, were growing restless.
Especially after they spied Jo Bear being taken on his constitutional on a
leash.
So the bear's owner/potential prey called the wildlife refuge and made it in
an offer it couldn't refuse: "If you don't come and get this bear, I'm going
to tie it to a tree and shoot it."
How did he come into possession of the bear? It seems the previous owner got
a tad nervous when the cute little cub started turning into - surprise! - a
bear. ("When he got old enough to where [the bear] wanted to play a little
bit, he got scared of him. He wasn't teaching him no manners or nothingŠ.")
There's just something about an unmannerly bear that grates.
Jo Bear, it seems, didn't prove as much fun as its last owner had
anticipated, so "I thought, 'Well, I'll just make a rug out of him when he
gets bigger.' But then, you know, we kind of got attached to him.'"
Even unmannerly bears evidently have their charms. For some of us. But the
bear's owner eventually gave him up. Which is how Jo Bear got to the
wildlife refuge.
It's hard to let go of a story like this. It's like having a bear by the
tail.
My problem is much the same as the bear's former owner: Fascinating as the
subject is, how end the relationship? Shakespeare solved the problem simply
enough in Act III, Scene 3, of "The Winter's Tale." To quote his stage
direction, in toto:
Exit, pursued by a bear.