The only reason she hasn’t noticed me is the perfect facewind I’m getting. Funniest thing, facewind, the big female and her three pups are less than twenty yards from the bush where I’m hiding and while I keep getting whiffs of their stench they cannot smell me.
The small clearing is their playground. They're wrestling with each other; their mother’s acting both referee and player.
Now the fourth cub shows up, the runt of the litter, visibly smaller than the others. It stumbles on the grass blades but seems twice as fierce as the others. Shrewd politician, vying for the mother’s attention.
I feel the breeze change. She suddenly stands in attention staring at the bush. A gray-brown statue with black-tipped tail surrounded by her four kids tussling carefree. Probably she still cannot see me but she knows exactly where I am. I slowly take the buckshot shells out of my double barrel to remove all temptation. When I look up again her stance hasn’t changed a bit, a stone statue, gazing at me. I slowly lift my hand showing the shot shells. No reaction; her eyes are locked at the bush. Now the runt seeking her love jumps up and grabs her tail. She takes a last glance at the bush and, as if nothing happened, goes back to frolicking.
The wind’s shifting and blowing stronger; it’s on the back of my neck. She knows I am still there, but in the next fifteen minutes she never turns in my direction again. When the kids finally slow down, she collects them and they disappear in the woods.
I am confident we’ll remember each other. She, for another second or two; I, for years to come.
The small clearing is their playground. They're wrestling with each other; their mother’s acting both referee and player.
Now the fourth cub shows up, the runt of the litter, visibly smaller than the others. It stumbles on the grass blades but seems twice as fierce as the others. Shrewd politician, vying for the mother’s attention.
I feel the breeze change. She suddenly stands in attention staring at the bush. A gray-brown statue with black-tipped tail surrounded by her four kids tussling carefree. Probably she still cannot see me but she knows exactly where I am. I slowly take the buckshot shells out of my double barrel to remove all temptation. When I look up again her stance hasn’t changed a bit, a stone statue, gazing at me. I slowly lift my hand showing the shot shells. No reaction; her eyes are locked at the bush. Now the runt seeking her love jumps up and grabs her tail. She takes a last glance at the bush and, as if nothing happened, goes back to frolicking.
The wind’s shifting and blowing stronger; it’s on the back of my neck. She knows I am still there, but in the next fifteen minutes she never turns in my direction again. When the kids finally slow down, she collects them and they disappear in the woods.
I am confident we’ll remember each other. She, for another second or two; I, for years to come.
