Thanks to reader Randi for emailing this to me (and reading, of course!). And remember, if you want me to know and therefore talk about something, send it on over. As if I lack for material.
So, to the point: some dudes stole a professionally mounted bear from a bar. They've since returned it, I believe.
At first my reaction was...non-reaction. Honestly, I react to everything in this county lately by not reacting at all because seriously, when you live here for 22 years and blog about it for even just a few months, even the biggest, most ridiculous stories--and admittedly, this falls somewhere in the middle--don't do much to you except make you want to move away even more than you already did. But then you start thinking a little more about these things...
Deep Thoughts on the Stolen Bear:
- I'd question why they did this, why they thought it would be a good idea, why they need a mounted bear, but it's just no use...
- ...but, wait, why do they need a professionally mounted bear? Okay, so maybe they don't need it. Maybe they just wanted it. But then why not just go shoot one and have it mounted like normal Fayettecong? Maybe they're not hunters. But they probably knows some.
- Do they sell mounted bears? Like, if you wanted one but didn't hunt, are there fancy taxidermy stores where you can just roll up and be all, "Gimme one of them there bears"?
- No wonder bears sometimes eat people.
- Bear City.
- If Bear City were real, bears would hunt and mount people, and then a few frat bears would steal them from their bear bars. No, not that kind of bear bar.
- Guard your mounted bears, folks.
- This isn't the only interesting story I know about bears. One time, my cousin bought a bear costume at a Salvation Army, put it on, and drunkenly went for a walk in it in Pittsburgh. I'd say it's a miracle that no one stole her, but I don't think anyone up on Mt. Washington that night was too interested--especially the couple whose romantic date was ruined. But someone did tell she looked pretty vicious.
The one at my cousin's: Rupert, who has watched over many a drunk sleeping on the couch he towers over.