A CHAT WITH ‘CHAD’
From favorite foods and family life to those alleged break-ins, Connecticut bear bares all
Having read numerous posts on local social media about bear sightings in West Hartford over the past several months — I’m a newcomer to the area, so this took me by surprise — I was pleased to have finally had the opportunity to sit down for a conversation with one, not long ago, to learn about his experiences in suburbia.
To protect him from community members who have been known to greet him with rocks, pepper spray, and worse, as well as from “the paparazzi,” I met Chad over Zoom. With his permission, I recorded our conversation. It has been edited for length and clarity.
MKK: I’d like to start by thanking you for agreeing to talk with me. Earlier this summer I posted more than 100 placards in public areas inviting a conversation and you were the only bear to have responded with what I believed was serious intent.
CHAD:
It’s my pleasure. I appreciate the opportunity to tell my story.
Well, let’s jump right in! Please can you tell me a little about yourself?
As you know, I’m a black bear. The scientific name for this is Ursus americanus, which I think has a nice ring to it. I’ve lived in the area all my life. And I’m five years old. Good grief! I just realized my life is half over.
Whoa! Black bears live to be only 10?
In West Hartford, yes. Conditions here are not optimal. I have friends in the wild — I mean places wilder than WeHa — who’ve lived to be 30.
That’s sobering.
On a more positive note, I weigh 383 pounds — which, I’m proud to say, is on the heavy side for a black bear. I’m trying to bulk up to an even 400.
I don’t mean to downplay your size, but that sounds lightweight to me. I thought bears were much heavier.
Polar bears, yes. Grizzlies, yes. But black bears, no. Actually we’re the second smallest bear in the world. The fetching little sun bear, in Southeast Asia, weighing in at less than 100 pounds, takes first place. And no, a koala isn’t a bear. It’s a marsupial.
You read my mind! I was about to ask about them. But let’s get back to you. Please go on.
The foods I love most are berries, sedges, and garbage. I consider myself an introvert. I like taking long walks on the beach and hiking around the reservoirs. My favorite time of day is the gloaming, when the skies darken and the stars begin to twinkle. And my favorite season is winter.
Because that’s when you’re hibernating?
Well, yes and no. Yes, because it’s when I’m enjoying my beauty sleep. But no if you’re under the impression that I’m totally sacked out, because I’m not.
Clarification, please.
It’s true that black bears don’t do much of anything in the winter besides snooze. But I hesitate to call it true hibernation, because we’re not really sleeping deeply. Pop a Christmas cracker snap under any of our snouts and we’ll be out of our dens like bats out of h-e-double-hockey-sticks.
Just where is your den?
I’ve never been stuck on living in any one place for long. This is partly to protect my privacy and partly because I like change. Without getting too specific: last year I holed up in a tree close to Blue Back Square. The year before I bedded down near Laurel Pond.
Laurel Pond! In Elizabeth Park! I go running there. I bet I’ve passed your den a zillion times.
(smiling) I thought I recognized you …
Did you know that Wallace Stevens went ice skating on that pond with his daughter? And that he wrote poems about it?
I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. I knew he lived around here and that he loved nature. I do, too. My mother used to say I had the soul of a poet.
Used to say?
She passed through the Pearly Gates just before COVID; may she rest in peace. Rebekah was her name. She was quite the sow.
I am so sorry for your loss. If you’d care to tell me more about her, I’m all ears.
I would! In addition to raising 10 cubs on her own — we boars leave child-rearing to the females — Mother earned a master’s degree in social work, conducted independent research, and was published in several academic journals. Her study, “Hyperphagic Yo-Yo Dieting Among Ursidae Americanus in Connecticut: Practicalities & Perils,” has been translated into more than 20 languages, including Urdu.
My goodness! Please can you translate that into English?
It’s about the cycles of weight gain and loss that bears experience over the course of the four seasons. It starts in the fall, prior to denning, with a feeding frenzy called hyperphagia. We end up putting on about 4 to 5 inches of fat. Unfortunately, we eventually lose it.
Chubby and warm in winter, slimmed down and cool in summertime. I would think this would be healthy, no?
From a zoologist’s perspective, yes. But as a social worker, Mother looked at gain and loss within a psychodynamic context, and she
saw it as more complex. I can send you a link if you’d like to learn more.
Thank you; I would! Chad, I can’t help but wonder what it was like growing up with a mother who was so accomplished.
C’était magnifique. I yam what I yam thanks to that special lady.
This is sensitive, perhaps, but please will you comment on accusations of bear break-ins and destruction of property?
Guilty as charged. But we mean no harm. We’re basically just a bunch of big hungry oafs. If we walk through the occasional screen door or put a paw through a glass window, it’s because we don’t have thumbs.
Hmm, I thought clumsy people were said to be all thumbs.
First, I’m not “a people” — though I’m flattered that you’re feeling comfortable enough with me to blur the boundaries between us. Second, I don’t know about folks with a lot of thumbs, but as we bears have none, we sometimes lack delicacy.
Are you dangerous? I’ve heard stories of black bears attacking
innocent creatures.
Hogwash. I mean, sure, we might kill the occasional chicken or wabbit, but like the Native Americans who called this land their ancestral home, we honor the lives of animals by taking only what is needed. The slaughter is never gratuitous.
Do you eat mostly meat?
On the contrary. We follow a primarily plant-based diet. I did have an aunt in New London who was a diehard pescatarian but she also took sitz baths and collected Fiestaware, so we chalked it up to another of her eccentricities.
Getting back to your carnivorous side: do black bears eat people?
I suppose it would be possible but I’ve never heard of it happening. At least, not in this town. No offense intended but you folks don’t smell very tempting.
Whew.
True, there’s the occasional mauling. But such incidents are rare. And deplorable, of course.
Egad, just when I thought it was safe to get back in the water!
Well, it’s important to watch your back. But I hope you’ll take reassurance in knowing that most of our aggression towards humans is done in self-defense. I still have PTSD from the time a bunch of rapscallions shot me with paintball guns.
Ouch. What did you do?
I stood on my hind legs and beat my chest as though I were King Kong. The kids dashed away faster than you can say Zei gezunt. That’s Yiddish for “Go in good health.” I didn’t want to hurt them if I didn’t need to.
That shows considerable self-control.
I try.
Chad, you’ve been full of surprises. I’ve learned so much from you. Thank you for this conversation.
You bet. I’ve enjoyed it.
Do you have a message you’d like to leave our readers with?
I do! Esteemed readers, we black bears are simple creatures. We want many of the same things as you. Food, shelter, safety. A sense of belonging. Respect. The occasional glazed donut or dip in a kiddie pool. We might be solitary by nature, but that doesn’t mean we’re antisocial. If you don’t bother us, we probably won’t bother you. Let’s find the love in our hearts.