In the heart of the Smoky Mountains, there lived a black bear named Benny. Benny was your typical bear: large, furry, and always on the lookout for his next meal. However, Benny had one quirk that set him apart from his forest friends – he had a knack for finding the tastiest human snacks.
It all started one summer when Benny stumbled upon a family picnic. The Andersons, blissfully unaware of bear etiquette, had left their picnic basket unattended while they explored a nearby stream. Benny, with his keen sense of smell, quickly found the basket and indulged in a feast fit for a bear king. He gobbled up sandwiches, chips, and even a jar of peanut butter, much to his delight. This culinary adventure was far more exciting than his usual diet of berries and fish.
News of Benny’s gastronomic escapades spread through the bear community like wildfire. “Did you hear about Benny? He ate a whole basket of human food!” they chattered. Benny became a legend among his peers, and he loved the attention. Soon, Benny was making regular rounds at campsites, picnic areas, and even sneaking into cabins. His furry belly grew round, and he developed a taste for marshmallows and chocolate, becoming a connoisseur of s’mores.
One particularly memorable evening, Benny stumbled upon a campfire sing-along. As the campers belted out classic tunes, Benny saw his opportunity. He waited until the chorus of “Kumbaya” reached its peak, then lumbered into the circle and grabbed an entire bag of marshmallows. The campers were too stunned to react as Benny toasted marshmallows on the fire with surprising finesse. He even managed to make a few perfect s’mores before waddling off, leaving the campers with a story they would tell for years.
Benny’s antics didn’t stop there. He became a master thief, sneaking into campsites and picnic spots with the stealth of a ninja. One time, he managed to swipe a whole pie cooling on a windowsill, leaving behind only a few crumbs and a very confused baker. Another time, he stole a cooler full of sodas and was later spotted lounging by a stream, sipping from a can like he was on vacation.
The park rangers, however, were less amused by Benny’s antics. Ranger Dave, a grizzled veteran of the Smokies, often found himself cleaning up after Benny’s raids. “That bear’s gonna give me gray hair,” he grumbled, although his hair was already quite gray. Despite their best efforts, Benny always found a way to outsmart the rangers’ traps and deterrents.
One day, Benny’s quest for human delicacies led him to a crowded campsite. He boldly sauntered into the middle of a family reunion, making a beeline for the buffet table. Screams erupted as Benny casually helped himself to a pot of chili and a plate of cornbread. The chaos was enough to finally convince the rangers that Benny’s behavior had become too dangerous.
Ranger Dave and his team decided it was time to take serious action. They attempted to scare Benny away using loud noises and non-lethal methods, but Benny, emboldened by his love for human food, was undeterred. They even tried relocating him deep into the wilderness, but Benny always found his way back to the campsites, following the irresistible scent of burgers and hot dogs.
As Benny’s behavior grew bolder, the situation became dire. He began breaking into cabins, causing significant damage and scaring visitors. One night, Benny entered a cabin while a family was sleeping, and although no one was hurt, the close call was enough to make the rangers realize that Benny had lost his fear of humans entirely.
The decision weighed heavily on Ranger Dave and his team, but they knew they had to prioritize the safety of the park’s visitors. After much deliberation, they concluded that euthanasia was the only option left. With a heavy heart, Ranger Dave prepared for the task.
The day arrived, and the team set out to find Benny one last time. They found him near a popular campsite, rummaging through a trash bin. Benny was tranquilized to ensure a calm and painless process. As the tranquilizer took effect, Benny’s playful eyes slowly closed, and he drifted into a deep sleep.
The park staff conducted a necropsy on Benny, gathering valuable information about his health and behavior. This data would help them develop better strategies for preventing future bear-human conflicts. But as the rangers stood over Benny’s lifeless body, the weight of their decision pressed heavily on their hearts.
Ranger Dave couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. He had dedicated his life to protecting the wildlife of the Smoky Mountains, yet here he was, ending the life of one of its most beloved creatures. The rangers buried Benny deep in the woods, away from the campsites he had come to frequent. They marked his grave with a simple stone, a silent testament to a bear who had only followed his instincts but paid the ultimate price.
In the weeks that followed, the park seemed a little quieter, a little less vibrant. Benny’s story, though tragic, served as a powerful reminder of the consequences of feeding wildlife. It underscored the delicate balance between enjoying nature and respecting its inhabitants. As visitors learned about Benny, they became more vigilant about following park guidelines, ensuring that future bears could roam the Smoky Mountains without the allure of human food.
But for those who knew Benny, the memory of his misadventures brought a pang of sadness. Benny had only been doing what came naturally to him, and yet he had paid the price for human carelessness. The loss of Benny was a somber lesson, a dark reminder of the fragility of the bond between humans and the wild.
And so, the Smoky Mountains continued to stand tall and majestic, but for the rangers and the visitors who remembered Benny, a shadow lingered – a reminder of a bear who loved peanut butter sandwiches and s’mores, and whose life was cut tragically short.
A Note From The Editor
Although this is a fictional story, it highlights a real problem in the Smoky Mountains: bears becoming habituated to humans, leading to dangerous interactions and often resulting in the bears being euthanized. We empathize deeply with the TWRA employees who must make the difficult decision to put down a bear.
In 2024 alone, over 12 bears have had to be euthanized, indicating that our community is failing to protect our bear population.
We must do better! It’s essential to educate tourists, vacation rental owners, business owners, and their employees about bear safety.
At Lovin’ Life in the Smokies, we challenge everyone to help protect our bears. It takes minimal effort to start. Visit https://www.bearwise.org, download a few of the free PDFs (or purchase pre-printed posters), and let’s blanket Sevier County with them. Let’s ensure they’re in every restaurant and vacation rental to inform tourists not to engage in harmful behaviors like feeding bears.
Our bears are depending on you!
