On
a
cold
February
day
last
winter,
I
was
returning
from
a
complaint
of
a
moose
shot
and
left
northwest
of
Rocky
Mountain
House.
Shortly
after
11:00
a.m.,
the
radio
crackled,
“Any
Fish
and
Wildlife
Officer
in
the
Rocky
District,
this
is
Control.”
I
recognized
Ralph’s
voice
from
many
previous
conversations.
By
the
time
I
had
reached
for
the
mike
he
had
repeated
his
request.
“This
is
Foxtrot
2211,”
I
replied.
Ralph
went
on
to
describe
his
conversation
with
Raymond
St.
Onge,
a
logging
contractor
working
for
Sunpine,
south
of
Thunder
Mountain.
Apparently,
a
feller-buncher
was
moving
logs
and
had
uncovered
a
bear
den
that
was
the
residence
of
a
sow
black
bear
and
three
very
small
cubs.
An
immediate
call
was
placed
to
Raymond
St.
Onge.
Raymond
said
the
feller-buncher
operator,
while
piling
logs,
had
destroyed
a
bear
den.
The
female
black
bear
was
near
the
destroyed
den
lying
on
top
of
her
three
cubs.
When
the
sow
had
originally
been
scared
out
of
the
den
she
had
climbed
a
poplar
tree
nearby.
He
wasn’t
sure
if
the
sow
or
the
cubs
had
been
injured
in
the
incident.
I
was
en
route
to
Thunder
Mountain.
As
I
drove
along
with
this
particular
bear
situation
rattling
around
in
the
ol’
brain,
I
tried
to
draw
from
past
experiences
on
the
best
way
to
handle
this
situation.
Will
I
have
to
shoot
the
sow
if
she
is
injured?
Immobilization
is
questionable.
How
will
I
tend
to
the
cubs?
What
criticism
will
I
take
from
the
workers
at
the
location,
no
matter
what
I
have
to
do?
What
happens
if
the
local
newspaper
runs
the
story?
I
can
just
see
the
headlines
on
the
front
page:
"Fish
and
Wildlife
Destroys
Bear
Family.”
Then
there
were
the
Action
Requests,
a
formidable
documentation
process
that
is
used
to
explain
to
the
public
the
why
and
wherefore
of
the
things
we
have
done.
For
all
I
knew,
the
CBC
was
already
phoning
for
an
interview.
As
I
drove
toward
Thunder
Mountain,
I
continued
to
ponder
the
events
that
were
about
to
unfold.
With
the
cold
temperatures
of
the
day
and
the
forecast
that
I
had
heard
earlier
that
morning
on
the
radio,
the
temperatures
were
going
to
drop
to
-35C
overnight.
What
would
happen
to
the
bears
that
were
once
sleeping
comfortably
in
their
den,
letting
the
cold
winter
days
pass
into
spring,
now
that
they
were
tossed
out
into
the
winter’s
cold?
The
cubs
certainly
wouldn't
survive
long
in
these
temperatures.
It
just
so
happened
that
as
I
was
driving
by
a
farmyard,
I
noticed
some
round
hay
bales.
This
sent
my
mind
reeling
back
to
when
we
had
a
St.
Bernard
who
had
spent
the
winters
in
a
doghouse
constructed
of
small
square
straw
bales.
With
her
heavy
winter
coat
she
stayed
toasty
warm
in
her
straw
dog
house
for
a
number
of
long
cold
winters.
The
only
problem
was
she
had
to
share
the
dog
house
with
a
family
of
mice
that
also
thought
the
straw
house
was
an
excellent
place
to
spend
the
days
and
nights
of
a
long,
cold
winter.
Okay,
so
what
would
happen
if
we
built
a
bear
den
with
straw
or
hay
bales?
Where
would
you
find
those
almost
non-existent
small
square
bales
these
days?
I
called
a
local
elk
rancher,
Brian
Burrington,
who
said
he
didn’t
have
any
small
bales,
but
would
phone
around
and
try
to
locate
someone
that
might
have
a
few
bales
to
spare.
I
called
Raymond
St.
Onge
on
the
cell
phone
to
advise
him
of
my
possible
delay
in
arriving
at
the
scene
to
find
that
he
was
on
his
way
to
meet
with
his
girlfriend
to
obtain
a
video
camera
at
the
Strachan
campground.
I
told
him
that
I
had
placed
a
call
hoping
to
find
about
15
square
bales,
either
straw
or
hay,
with
intentions
of
constructing
a
makeshift
bear
den.
We
met
at
the
junction
of
the
North
Fork
Road
and
he
said
there
was
a
farm
he
had
passed
back
down
the
road
and
would
go
there
to
see
if
they
had
any
square
bales
to
spare.
As
I
was
waiting
for
Brian’s
call,
Raymond
called
on
the
cell
to
say
he
had
found
some
straw
and
hay
bales.
Upon
arriving
at
the
farm
beside
the
North
Fork
of
Prairie
Creek,
I
met
Ted
Gray,
the
farmer
who
had
graciously
provided
us
with
the
bales.
We
loaded
15
bales
into
the
truck
and
were
off
to
Thunder
Mountain.
On
the
way
I
left
a
message
for
Brian
stating
that
we
had
found
some
hay
bales
and
thanked
him
for
his
assistance.
Upon
arrival
at
the
scene
we
met
with
the
equipment
operator
who
said
he
could
move
some
material
such
as
roots
and
fallen
trees
over
what
appeared
to
be
the
old
den
site.
We
went
around
the
corner
of
a
small
stand
of
spruce
and
could
see
the
sow
black
bear
and
faintly
hear
the
cubs
crying.
The
sow
black
bear
was
lying
on
top
of
the
cubs
out
in
the
open
on
some
spruce
bows.
It
was
thought
that
by
moving
in
close
with
the
feller-buncher,
the
noise
and
the
sound
of
the
equipment
would
move
the
sow
away
from
the
cubs
and
give
us
room
to
work
on
the
den
reconstruction
without
the
sow
becoming
too
aggressive.
I
retrieved
my
rifle
from
the
patrol
vehicle
and
Raymond
and
I
followed
the
feller-buncher
towards
the
sow
and
cubs.
As
the
feller-buncher
moved
in
the
direction
of
the
sow
and
cubs,
the
sow
slowly
stood
up
and
wandered
over
to
the
base
of
an
old
poplar
tree.
She
then
looked
at
us,
stood
up
against
the
tree,
and
as
if
in
slow
motion
slowly
climbed
up
the
tree...
just
as
we
had
planned.
Yeah
right.
In
our
line
of
work
nothing
ever
seems
to
go
the
way
it
was
planned.
The
equipment
operator
moved
to
within
a
couple
meters
of
the
cubs
and
began
picking
up
and
moving
an
old
uprooted
stump
and
some
other
debris
over
a
depression
in
the
ground.
The
three
small
black
bear
cubs
were
making
a
considerable
amount
of
noise,
watching
while
this
giant
of
a
machine
attempted
to
reconstruct
their
winter
home.
I
went
in
and
examined
the
cubs
for
any
observable
signs
of
injury,
and
was
glad
to
see
all
the
cubs
appeared
healthy.
I
placed
the
cubs
almost
on
top
of
one
another
to
try
and
keep
them
warm,
as
they
didn’t
have
much
hair.
The
fellerbuncher
was
finished
the
initial
construction
and
two
other
workers
quickly
placed
the
straw
and
hay
bales
around
and
over
the
den
re-construction
site.
I
was
concerned
how
all
the
noise
the
cubs
were
making
was
going
to
affect
the
maternal
instincts
of
the
sow.
Just
as
we
were
adding
the
finishing
touches
to
the
den
the
sow
started
to
come
down
the
tree,
responding
to
the
cry
of
her
cubs.
The
operator
saw
the
sow
coming
down
the
tree.
He
revved
the
motor
of
the
feller-buncher
and
she
climbed
back
up
into
a
fork
in
the
tree
and
stayed
there,
watching
intently
all
the
activity
below
her.
Spruce
bows
and
dry
straw
were
placed
into
the
base
of
the
den
and
the
cubs
were
checked
again
for
injury
and
placed
into
the
newly
created
bear
den.
Once
the
cubs
were
placed
into
their
new
home,
we
backed
away.
About
two
hours
later,
the
sow
finally
came
down
out
of
the
tree
and
went
into
the
den.
It
was
as
if
she
needed
a
break
away
from
the
cubs.
She
started
to
dig
and
rearrange
the
materials
in
and
around
the
den
and
then
finally
disappeared
into
the
den.
The
sow
and
her
cubs
had
a
nice
warm
place
to
spend
the
winter.
I
wonder
if
they
too
had
to
put
up
with
a
family
of
mice
sharing
their
residence
on
those
cold
winter
days
in
February.
Dean
Watkiss
is
a
member
of
the
Alberta
Game
Warden
Association
in
Rocky
Mountain
House.
