Zeus

 I spent an afternoon sketching the scars on Zeus’ face.  The entire left side of his face and neck are riddled with a complicated pattern of small to medium sized scars, making him quite easy to identify.  I stared, and drew, watching him fishing, and wading through the water for at least a half hour before I finally saw the back of his ears.  From that viewpoint, I realized that he had a small, yellow, plastic ear tag, which I would later come to learn was placed on him by biologists in the McNeil River area, which borders the Northern edge of Katmai.  What that also means is that he most likely ranges into the McNeil River “Refuge” which isn't protected from bear hunting.  Funny how the word “refuge” is used to name a place where animals are slaughtered for pleasure.  Then again "conservation” in government terms, and especially in Alaskan terms, means keeping enough animals alive so that people can go out and shoot them.  I admired Zeus for having stayed alive as a full grown, hefty male – just the sort of bear that people wish to shoot and turn into a rug.  He must be an intelligent, cunning bear, I thought, as I watched him maneuver, with confidence, through the other fishing bears. 

Zeus’ hair is a dark brown that looks almost black when wet.  He has an imposing, hard face which seems in stark contrast to the calm energy about him.  I always felt comfortable in his presence, as he walked past us on the river shore, or one morning when he came very close to sniff a day bed next to where we were sitting.  He had an air of complete confidence about him which made his energy seem stable and calm.  It was a pleasure to watch him fish and just to be in his presence.  He did have a particular habit in regards to his fish.  Whenever he caught a fish in the river, he wouldn’t eat it near the river like most of the other bears.  Instead, he would hold the fish by the tail, dangling down from his mouth, and walk off the mud flats.  He never varied the position of the fish in his mouth – each time it would be held by the tip of its tail.  He would carry the fish all the way to the beach, or even over the berm behind the beach, before eating it.  Once finished eating he would amble back up to the river to catch another one.  Since the mud flats extend very far out at low tide, he was making quite a trek back and forth every time he ate. 

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© 2008 Jessica Teel