Now I know what you’re thinking-Hey Werner, you’ve been taking us with you all over God’s green earth, and now we’re stuck in your backyard? What’s with that? But bear with me.

(Get it—bear?)

My backyard is the scene of a couple of jaw-dropping adventures.

For starters, there’s the bird feeder incident. This happened in March, as the winter days gave way to the promise of spring. Local bears awakened, and one morning I awoke to find that my 6-foot shepherd’s hook was lying flat on the ground, stripped of its squirrel-proof bird feeder.

Obviously, this destruction wasn’t the work of a rogue gang of squirrels but rather the clumsy but effective effort of a drowsy, starving bear. I found the empty bird feeder in the woods near my house, without so much as a thank you note from said bruin. I should mention that the bird feeder was advertised as squirrel-proof, not bear-proof, in a rare moment of truth-in-advertising.

My next adventure involves my dear old dog George, nearing his fifteen birthday and still trying to dig a hole in any sofa he finds. Last night I took him out for a final walk before bedtime and he was hot on the trail of something.  I had no idea what he was after, but he seemed determined. George, you see, is a renowned mouse killer, and has also been known to go after cats, despite his scratchy encounters with them.

At any rate, George seemed finished with whatever he was doing outside, and so we came inside. I unhooked him and he went into the family room, while I bent down to refill his water bowl. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving on the floor. Something big. George, meanwhile, had moved out of the family room and was standing there, looking at me—and IT.

Dear Lord, IT was the biggest bug I have ever seen.  It was at least 2 inches long and 1 inch wide.  IT was on its back (thank God), wriggling for all it was worth, trying to flip itself over. Next to the bug were a few drops of dog saliva, which told me that George had dropped the bug after realizing that he had caught more than he could chew.

I was pretty freaked out but got it together enough to pick it up and give the bug a burial at sea. I flushed twice to make sure it would stay down.  I mean, this thing was BIG—like Gregor Samsa big.

You never know what PTSD-inducing adventures you’ll find in your backyard, kids!