Now for those that do not recognize the word Scat it means Poop.  I put the word scat in the title so I am not searched by Big Brother for nasty blogs.

Last Thursday Blaine and I were golfing with Harry and when we came to the 13th tee, we came across some mounds of SCAT.  Actually Harry found it first and pointed it out to us.  The 13th hole runs along underveloped forest and I am not sure how Harry came across it (I suspect he went off to have (a) a pee or (b) to find cell phone coverage.) 

Harry called us over to see a big mound of fresh scat.  Way to big for a dog or a deer or a horse or a golfer with really bad bowel problems.  As he pointed out, there was hair coming out of the lumps so we guessed a carnivore and given the size must be a bear. 

Now for the ladies, you would probably think why would you bend over so far to actually examine a mound of poop and see the hair, but this was the primeval instincts of man kicking in.  We all grabbed our drivers and confidently looked around with the thought that we would survive if needed. 

Anyway tonight Pat and I were strolling the golf course and I took her to see the scat  evidence when we met neighbours that confirmed that there are bear sightings on the course.  Now when you think we let the boys sleep out under the stars in the back yard last week,  Pat got excited, but I pointed out that Mason was in a tent so it would only have been either Bryndon or Chandler, and she said ‘well OK’

The grand girls are coming this week and I do not think they will be sleeping out under the stars, but I will take them to see the Bear Scat.