We always prepare ourselves when hunting season begins every year. Prepared for the inevitability when 2-Tag would never come back home again.

He was named 2-Tag when he was a frightened little cub two years ago, separated from his mommy and caught in a bear trap. When the game warden tagged him, he didn’t realize he was already tagged in the other ear.

He was sent off several times deep into the woods hundreds of miles away. He always made his way back home. Where he belongs.

He stayed here with us in the community as our playful 300 lb “problem child”, terrorizing the dumpsters every morning looking for breakfast.

He was loved, and he wouldn’t hurt a soul.
(Well, last year he did several thousands of dollars worth of damage to a home, ripping off their siding and part of their kitchen wall down to get to water. Hey, nobody’s perfect.)
We thought he would be safe in our private community.

Today, two poachers proved us wrong.
They shot him and his buddy, Goliath. Waiting for them at the dumpsters for an easy kill.

Now before I hear from some asshole drunk biiiiig & tough overly-macho hunter with a big (compensating) rifle who’s going to chime in on “The necessities of hunting”, let me enlighten you on a few facts in this case:

• They were in a private community. That’s against the law. Not to mention a stray bullet could have hit a kid walking to the bus stop, or a passing car on the main road.
• Kill all the fucking deer you want in a few weeks. Personally, I can’t stand them
• Something should be considered a “sport” when both sides realize they’re in the game, and both stand somewhat of a chance of winning
• Just zip it. I don’t want to hear it.

He and Goliath are the bears from “My Cat Puddy“. The pictures above was from when he came by for Samantha’s birthday party in May. He smelled the food and the cake, and came running (even trying his darndest to climb in a window, as I guess we, uhm, forgot to open the door and let him in with the house full of guests from New York… he did get a hat though.).

He was family.
He was loved.

The spineless illegal hunters were blocked by neighbors as they attempted to drag them across the road where it’s legal gamelands. They were held there until security, the game warden and state police could arrive.

Not quite worth it now, was it?

Despite all the fines and possible federal charges they’re facing, it still doesn’t make the kids (and grownups) stop crying…

I just want my fucking bear back.