Practical joke with a bear in Iowa

I havent told this story for a long time and just came to mind today, so I have to tell it again.

I live in NE IA and bears are unheard of, but a friend bought a small cub for advertizment in his small business. He went on vacation so a farmer was bear sitting for him as we built a new hog house for the farmer. A new high pressure salesman for a distant company that sells nail guns dropped off at the job site. I just needed a few o rings that the old retired salesman would just replace and be on his way. The new salesman insisted I trade off my old guns and buy new ones. I was dead set on just the o rings so I took him to the side of his van and proceeded to replace the o rings and show him how. As we were in the van the cub bear ran past, where as he got wild as he did not know they were around. I kept a straight face and questioned if it was a cub, and warned him to never get near any cub in the spring as a old sow bear would break glass to get at a man near the cub. A few munites later the cub jumped in the side door with us, the guy went just plain wild screaming---so I played along and got just as alarmed as he did. We pushed the bear out of the side door and he got behind the wheel and stood on it, it took some time before he got in motion as we were in the wet grass. He drove me up near the barn, stopped as I bailed out. It is probably five miles to town, and imagine the ruts were in the gravel road most of the distance. I waited a few months before I called his main office and told them the tall tail of a bear jumping in his van was kind of true. I guess he told the story to alot of non believers. I am kinda proud of myself getting even with a high pressure salesman and all. NE IA Dave

In all fairness my story is perhaps a little decieving as when the bear jumped in the van and the salesman started screaming I wasn't paying that much attention to anything other than the nail gun repair. So as far as me being briliant to pull this off is not all that correct. I was pretty quick to catch on. The bear was kind of cute at first, but every time I bent down and exposed my plumbers butt, he would bite me just above the belt, not hard enough to break the skin, but it would hurt.

It is so cold out and up at the coffee shop no one listens to me so I will tell of another ordeal.

I was the oldest boy in the family so tractor driving got a early start in my childhood, and to drive our neighbors WD 45 disking was pretty special, and my brothers would have to do my chores if I worked it just right. I was making the outside round and a pheasant was trying to get through the netting in a small brush patch. The netting was old and smashed down so he could not get through. I caught him and was going to let him go, but my brothers and sisters would never believe me. After a hour or so the phesant kept scratching my stomach as I had him tucked in my coveralls. And being ten years old I just knew the game warden would be watching me, catch me and take me to jail. I decided to wrap his head against the disk blade and after dark I could get him to show my brothers and sisters. As I looked out over the hay field next to the strip I was disking I seen a few flags marking goffer traps. So I did what I had to. I pulled the trap up and inserted the phesants head and sprung the trap / shoved it back down the hole. About 4 pm a farmer that I never met before came out to check his traps, and after finding the phesant came up across the disked ground to coment how nice it was working up. After a few munites I asked if it wasn't illegal to shoot phesants this time of the year. He exclaimed---IT JUST CAN"T BE !, then repeated it a couple more times, then he seen me grinning a little to much and declared that I must know somethig about the ordeal. We have been best of friends ever since, and he has gotten even many times over. NE IA Dave

Growing up in rural WV, we never had many dogs, but there was usually one around. Folks would stop at the driveway for a minute, then take off again. Yup, new dog.

Salesmen and local religious folk would stop by to sell us something we could not live without or to save our lost souls. (Pretty sure my soul is still digging potatoes or thinning corn...)

Course the dogs were happy to see 'em. They would get all excited and start jumping around. Not knowing these dogs, the visitors would be hesitant to get out of the car. The first questions asked upon my approach was "Does this dog bite?" I'd answer, "Yup." Then I would walk off. They never asked what the dogs would bite and I never told. I remain fairly sure that all dogs in question would likely maul a fresh cooked steak, but as far as a person is concerned, lick him to death.

Worked for me. Wish I had a bear, that would have been legendary...

Let's go Mountaineers,

Aaron