Button like eyes, black and serene,
burrowed deep into mine as I witnessed, for the first and only time, a female grizzly
bear cub. She continued to stare at me, absorbing my every move as I carefully
advanced towards her, so weak that her head could barely be lifted from the ground.
I could see no physical cause of her predicament, no blood or damage to
indicate an injury, but it was clear that this creature was dying. The scent of
death rose languidly from her aguish frame and came to rest in the back of my
throat, a dull yet permeating fragrance, the memory of which is imprinted
firmly on my mind.
I crouched down not a metre away, our
eyes still locked, and she showed no fear at my presence. I edged ever closer,
on my knees now, and felt the beating of my heart swell in my throat as I
reached out a tentative hand to rest on her back. Her fur was thin and dirty,
fallen out in places and the skin beneath was fragile and cold. I could feel
the movement of her ribcage as she breathed, and felt the rattle of her lungs
in my fingertips.
I sat down by her side, my hand still
on her back as she calmly inspected me, feebly sniffing the edge of my jacket,
pawing at my shoe. Even this close I could see no evidence of harm, the reason
for her abandonment and now inescapable death beyond me. This is the way of
nature, I thought, perhaps her only sin was to be weak. Or perhaps she was just
unwanted, as so many of us often are.
I gently stroked her tiny frame for the
next hour, her head resting on my knee as her breathing gradually diminished,
and I could feel her heart slow down. She would occasionally open her eyes at
the sound of a nearby bird or mouse, ever alert to her surroundings, look up at
me with the acceptance of fate etched into her face and again rest her head on
my lap. She did not whimper, she did not
cry, not once I was there.
She died as the shadows reached their
shortest, the sunlight falling vertically through the canopy. My hand came to
rest just below her shoulders as I felt a long final breath leave her body, all
of her muscles relaxing in unison as she slipped peacefully into the void. I
remained there for a short while, motionless and pensive, minutely stroking the
back of her neck. I did not cry, I wasn’t sad for her, but I felt something
change in me, something that I cannot explain. The world was a different place,
and I a different person within it. This death had shown me a beautiful way to
die.
I picked her up and held her in my
hands, carrying her like water, as though I was afraid that her meek frame
would slip through the cracks in my palm, and placed her at the base of the
hedge. I caressed her head before standing up, looked down at her body, now an
empty husk of blood and bone inhabiting the same solitude in which I found her,
and I walked away.
