onemanspolarbear: No ordinary polar...

onemanspolarbear:                                  No ordinary polar...:                                  No ordinary polar bear.  Dancer was a great bear friend who, other than being one of the most intelligen...

                                 No ordinary polar bear.


 Dancer was a great bear friend who, other than being one of the most intelligent beings I know, had a great sense of humour.


As far as polar bears go Dancer was a near perfect specimen. He was a lump of a bear with muscle well defined even below a thick layer of fat. His ponderous behind, the true measure of a polar bears health and stature, I'm sure was eyed with envy and caution by other males and no doubt convinced more than a few ladies, come spring courting time out on the ice, that he was the one. If the polar bears hunting prowess is directly related to the size of his rear end then Dancer took a back seat to no others.

 Although I could only offer an educated guess I would say he was around eight years old when he made the trek from the Cape to visit for the first time. The scars on his broad face from battling over the ladies or protecting a kill told me he was a warrior approaching his prime, already the respect shown by other bears was evident and the many challenges to his authority were quickly dealt with. It was how he dealt with these challenges that set him apart.

Polar bears are cautious by nature and never waltz into the unknown without a lengthily analysis of the situation, no chances are taken when approaching another bear of similar size. But caution is not enough to override the innate curiosity these animals have. If something is going on they want to know about it.

The usual procedure when one male bear approaches another is a type of slow tango that sees both animals delicately circle one another, head slung low to the ground, making sure all their assets are in full display by turning broadside to each other to show the true seat of power, their rear ends. Eye contact is never broken, huge yawns displaying a full set of teeth shows everything is in working order at that end. The dance varies in length but as an observer seems to go on and on. The dance ends when one bear figures his assets didn't match up to the others and trundles off. Size is a factor but not necessarily the rule, it is not uncommon to see a large bear give ground to another of less stature. I can only think the reason for this is the degree of intimidation seen in the eyes. In some cases during the dance the bears realise that they met before and settle down if not to enjoy each others company at least tolerate each others presence.

Dancer wouldn't tango, he had his own way of dealing with intruders. The first time I seen him in action I went from shock to amazement to spasms of laughter within seconds.

The window Dancer used to visit in the old camera buggy slid open wide enough so when standing on his back legs he could shove his head through to his ears. We were having one of our early morning get togethers over a cup of coffee, one of his favourite smells, when looking over the top of his head I noticed a big male bear making his way toward us. His cautious approach brought him within a hundred feet where he stopped to collect his thoughts. He was figuring out if it was in his best interest to check out whats going on or use prudence and alter his course leaving it all well enough alone. He couldn't let this go, something was going on.

Once his mind was made up the newcomer's approach changed. Like a sailing ship beating into the wind he started tacking, changing course every so often angling his way closer, giving careful thought to every step. His progress slowed even more by long pauses to watch for any reaction from Dancer. He had worked his way close enough that any other bear would have taken notice and either high tailed it out of here or turned to meet the challenge head on and begin the tango.

Not Dancer, he knew he was there but ignored him completely and the bear kept coming. It got to a point where I thought I should break our visit short and close the window so Dancer wouldn't be caught off guard but at that moment my friend let out a big snort that dampened the air inside the buggy then pushed his big body backwards away from the window to sort things out.

Like a reluctant ballerina Dancer balanced himself on one leg and did a wobbly pirouette to face his adversary, the momentum of such a manoeuvre caused him not to drop to all four legs but to plop down on his greatest asset with such force I'm sure I felt the buggy shake. There he sat, looking like a fuzzy white Buddha waiting to dish out a bit of enlightenment to the bear now frozen in mid stride not forty feet away.

The next move was left entirely up to the uninvited visitor who I could see was giving great thought as to how he should handle this unexpected and tenuous situation. The choice of backing away should have been given more consideration. The nervous bear give a great yawn and ever so slowly lowered his front paw to take his last step forward.

In a explosion of unimaginable power and fury Dancer drew his head in close to his massive shoulders and flew at the unfortunate beast ramming him broadside with such force it lifted him off his feet and sent him tumbling through the air in a slow arc landing in a confused heap. Recovery was quick and in a heartbeat the terrified bear was upright and running flat out for his life, his back legs reaching well past his front shoulders with every stride.

No, Dancer was no ordinary bear.

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onemanspolarbear: Young mans polar bear ...

onemanspolarbear: Young mans polar bear ...: Young mans polar bear Hello friends....please check out the link...and thank you http://ww...

                        Young mans polar bear                

   
                         Young mans polar bear


There is a weight to long winter nights. Once the radio was turned off
and the house went dark I could feel it pressing me down into my bed
pushing away sleep. Good thoughts faded quickly carried away by the
banshee wind that found new strength at night. Familiar trouble brewing in
the back of my mind. Unstoppable for a child. With no escape, dread
floods the room and once again the battle with "The Bear" begins.

I had no choice what form of beast visited my bedroom and invaded my dreams; in this town you couldn't get away from it. Polar Bears have always been here; the town was built where they live.

Churchill has been at war with the polar bear for hundreds of years. A
dangerous intruder who owns the night. This community of hunters and
trappers, railroad men and dock workers, soldiers from the war who looked
north to start new, seldom gave a second chance to a bear who found
itself caught amongst the snow banked houses and icy streets. Shoot them
before they get someone... before they get me.

Come morning and with the promise of a new day "The Bear" was all but
forgotten, there were games to play, a quick breakfast, a tussle over
the best set of mitts and out the door.
"Bear on James street last night so you boy's be careful" mom warned.
A side trip to look for tracks, then over to Sonnys' for road hockey.
"Mervin said he seen one the other day on Thompson street," says'
Sonny.
"Mervin is always seeing them, Mervin is full of crap," I say, anyway
day bears don't count, it's the one who visits in the night that worried
me.

Daylight was precious, what little there was of it. Seemed you just got
into whatever you were doing, building forts, endless games of road
hockey or leaping off roof tops into fresh snow when it was dark again. No
street lights then. Luck would provide the moon on a rare night. We
would take advantage of it and stay out longer than we should, excuses
firmly in place before heading home.

It was one of those nights, clear, cold, with the wind slackened off
just enough. Bare bulbs lit over porch doors, moon, stars, a tinge of
colour in the northern sky was all we needed for the game. No one
remembered the score , we were playing for hours. It was late. My brother had
left for home long ago...I should have went with him. Mom will be
mad...I didn't care.. we were cooped up in the house for days during the
storm. Storms always brought "The Bear' to wrestle sleep away... didn't
they know that.
Johny Eleven decided he had enough and was on his way home, I could
walk with him halfway. We called him Johny Eleven because his nose was
always runny.
Things were OK until Johny split off and disappeared into the
dark.That's when I heard the dogs acting up, they usually howled a little at
dusk and then quiet for the night unless something was going on.
They were really howling now...something was going on... better run!
Fear was starting to percolate in the back of my mind. The light in
moms' kitchen came into view as I rounded Allens' house... almost there.
The next instant an implosion of dread and panic washed through my body
almost bringing me to my knees as the reason for the dogs' dismay
materialized before my eyes, I was running straight towards my nightmare,
"The Bear" was on the road, the road I had to cross to get home. My short
life was over.
Although my mind yielded itself to the fact I was a goner the message
never reached my legs. They recovered from the shock and a
new found force, alien to me,  lifted me up over the road, passing so
close in front of "The Bear" I felt I could touch him, depositing me
on the step leading into the porch of my house.

Not quite sure what just happened; flushed with joy and a love for all mankind I dared to
look back. "The Bear" hadn't moved, his massive head, slung low to the
ground, was turned my way, his weary eyes watching me. For a dozen
heartbeats our eyes locked then with a faint "huff "he turned away and started
down the road; a wisp of frozen breath caught by the moon and carried
by the wind trailed behind him. I was pardoned by The Bears
indifference.
Mom opened the porch door and with a sternness that couldn't hide
the worry asked "where were you" ,  I bravely ignored her
question, pointed and said "Bear on Herne street."

onemanspolarbear: Wildlife Rehabilitation's ultimate goal is to retu...

onemanspolarbear: Wildlife Rehabilitation's ultimate goal is to retu...: Wildlife Rehabilitation's ultimate goal is to return the healed back to the wild. The keeping of polar bears in zoos is being challenged ...

Wildlife Rehabilitation's ultimate goal is to return the healed back to the wild.

The keeping of polar bears in zoos is being challenged around the world. While they may still be popular display animals, they are among the worst candidates for captivity.

Debbie had died , she was forty two. Forty one of those years in a cage at Assiniboine Zoo in Winnipeg, Manitoba. I remember seeing her down in her grotto, possibly the only thing sadder than her was me. Nothing in my mind dampens the human spirit more than looking into a cage at a captive animal. When she died Debbie held the record for the longest living polar bear in captivity. The zoo carried that distinction around like a badge of honor. Now Assiniboine Zoo wants to breathe new life into the antiquated facility. With a whack of money the building has begun; the crowning piece being a multi million dollar Polar Bear Conservation Center. The proposed Center will have more than a few components, one being a row of refurbished cages that is designated as the “rehabilitation” area where needy polar bears are kept once “rescued” from the wild. A pious deception.

Another component will be the brand new polar bear exhibit with captured wild polar bears from Churchill as the main attraction. The new and improved exhibit claims to be twenty times bigger than the old exhibit. A bit of trivia puts things in perspective; Lions and Tigers have around 18,000 times less space in zoos than they would in the wild. Polar bears have one million times less space. Twenty times nothing is nothing.

A few years back polar bears from Churchill were found languishing in a touring Mexican circus. It struck a nerve and there was a renewed demand by Zoo Check Canada on Conservation Manitoba, a branch of the Provincial government in charge of wildlife, to find out how this happened and to make sure Churchill bears will not be found all beat up in some third world lock-up... or the equivalent, again. In response the department drafted a set of standards that laid out the parameters of an acceptable holding facility ( cage ) before any bear would be handed over. This set of standards applied to the facilities in Manitoba as well; hence the new improved polar bear cages.

I met the man who had drafted up the standards, a biologist for Conservation Manitoba, we were looking at a polar bear through the window of the Polar Bear Lodge in Churchill, he was there as a guest of Polar Bears International, an organization that has no problem with capturing wild polar bears and putting them in cages. He remarked to me how amazing the polar bears were... even more so now that he finally got to see them in their natural surroundings....??? I was thinking that if this nice man had spent time observing polar bears in the wild before he worked on the standards; watched how they moved through an arctic landscape of ice and snow, how the clear magical light that can only be found in northern latitudes gets caught in the fur of their great coat, I am sure he would have grabbed a map and a marking pen and traced the outline of the whole Canadian Arctic and handed that to his superiors explaining the size of containment for the polar bear has already been determined!

But that didn't happen, so now the bears of Churchill are going to be closely monitored for signs that they need to be rescued and rehabilitated. What makes it all a slap in the face is that no rescued bear will be returned to the wild no matter how much rehabilitation the animal received. A life sentence.

The website for the Center says they will take the injured, abandoned and troublesome. But they really want the abandoned. Specifiably abandoned cubs...oh my do they ever want the cubs....polar bear cubs are the holy grail of zoos throughout the world, like hitting the lottery, grabbing the golden ring.....nothing, with the exception of Panda bears, can haul the people in and get their wallets open like cute polar bear cubs. Remember Knut. There will be huge pressure on Conservation Manitoba to find bear cubs that need saving. So the question has to be asked ... other than the enormous entertainment value why do these cubs need saving ?

You will find no other mother on the planet regardless of species who will protect and nurture their offspring to the degree a polar bear will. The hardships this mother endures during the first year of the little ones lives to ensure their survival is extraordinarily severe. She has so much of herself invested in the cubs survival that the term abandoned does not apply. There are no abandoned polar bear cubs. Separated or orphaned yes. A mother separated from her cubs will never stop looking for them; she can't find them at the zoo. Or they may have been pushed away by the mother because she was mating or pregnant either way it was time for the cubs to go on their own.

Orphaned cubs for whatever reason are rare and implies the mother is dead. This happens in the wild and the cubs have a real fight on their hands to survive, but one cannot discount instinct at any age. It is known that other family groups will accept an orphaned cub but for the most part if the cubs are orphaned before their first season out on the ice hunting for seal with their mother the outlook is not good. A cruel fate but one that is part of the cycle of nature. And one that we have no business sticking our nose in.

If the cubs survive the first year they are well on there way;  having learned invaluable lessons from mom during the four months hunting seal out on the ice and the summer months on land. Who are we to say they are not capable of surviving on their own come fall. It would be hard but not impossible. This is what makes the polar bear what it is, their survival instinct is constantly evolving. If only a small percentage of the orphaned cubs survive that makes the species that much stronger, that much more capable of overcoming whatever mother nature has in store for them.

For those who think capturing polar bears and putting them in zoos will keep them from becoming extinct I say to you without any doubt in my mind that when the last trace of mankind is nothing but dust caught in a rock crevice.... somewhere on this banged up planet will be a polar bear. But only if we give them the chance to survive on their own.

onemanspolarbear: Old Warrior

onemanspolarbear: Old Warrior: Old Warrior I seen him coming from the East, small in the bi...