[at-l] Scree bears

[janl2@mindspring.com (Jan Leitschuh)]

That was downright poetic, Brett.
Today's episode of "The Wild Kingdom." I wish I had a similar offering.

I could do my cat, he is hating this snow. He wanted out this morning, I
obliged, sliding the porch door open. He looked up disdainfully from the
drifts at whisker level and said, in his very best snotty-feline manner
"Show me another door, woman..."

Brett Tucker wrote:
> 
> At a particular elevation among the mountains of the PCT, ill-defined on any map I've seen, the densely wooded montagne dominion of the black bear begins yielding to the rarified air and rocky buttressed realm of our grizzled little friend, the scree bear, or marmot. I dub these extra-large rodents "scree bears" because they really do look and behave like miniature bears, like Ursus Americanus of the high hinterlands.

> He didn't like that. Suddenly his hair bristled, he threw back his head, stretched his toothy trap wider than ever, blinked once, and proceeded to open up a can of marmot whoopass. NYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP! It was fatal. My eardrums shattered on impact. NYYEEEEP! NYYEEEEP! NYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP! My nerves were raw with the friction of adrenaline. That's no whistle, it's an air raid siren! Get down, quick! Scree bear went back in his bunker, and I got the heck out of there. So much for communing with nature.

> - blisterfree