I was up late one night last week, and at 2am I heard noises on the deck. It sounded like something big was lumbering around and running into things and moving the table and chairs. I took a small flashlight and looked around (from the safety of the doorway) but couldn’t see anything.

A few minutes later I heard more noises. No exploring this time; I stayed put.

The scene today:

The hummingbird feeder was in pieces on the deck, and the suet feeder was MIA. The saucer under the thistle seed feeder was knocked off.

Smokey and I scratched our heads, trying to figure out what had invaded our deck. An especially large raccoon? Maybe, but we couldn’t see how a raccoon could have gotten to the suet and nectar feeders hung from the eaves. A bear could be tall enough to reach them, but we couldn’t figure out how a bear got onto the deck — the top of the stairs are blocked off to keep the dogs from going roundabout. We finally concluded that a bear had climbed the side of the deck and over the railing.

And where were our faithful watch dogs during these midnight raids? Our dogs who go ballistic if a leave falls in the neighbor’s yard?

They were sleeping soundly in the bedroom.

They are no longer our official watch dogs.

They have been demoted to blanket weights, foot warmers, and furry snugglers.