Part 1: Healing of Major Bear with Conventional Approaches

Bears, Blog | May 26, 2011

In the last e-newsletter I wrote about trying to give a bear a pill. Because so many of you asked what happened, here is the next chapter in Major Bear’s journey. It has been difficult, but the good news so far is that Major Bear is still with us.

When I last wrote, we were trying to give him an antibiotic for what looked like a tooth abscess. I say looked like, because it is hard to get close enough to a bear to be sure- they are not into letting you let you pry open their mouth.

As time went on Major Bear stopped eating altogether and it was clear there was something very wrong. Was he not eating because of pain from his teeth? Was there something wrong with his jaw that it hurt too much to eat? We reluctantly agreed to have Don, our vet, tranquilize him to get the urgently needed antibiotics into him and do a proper exam. In our experience it is a trauma for a bear (or I suspect any wild animal) to be tranquilized. They have such a strong life force and sense of self preservation that it seems they experience the drug taking them over as impending death, and they fight it with everything they have. It is a major stressor on its own. It is a skill to give enough to put them under but not administer too much. The danger lies in misjudging the amount because of their fighting it and thus assuming you gave them too little…then you give them more and their system gets overwhelmed and they die. It took us three hours of waiting and watching but Don was patient, finessed it and succeeded.

The abscess was bad, but we were reluctant to pull the tooth without the antibiotics being in him beforehand. Also it was a canine which goes in a couple of inches deep to the bone so it would have meant a significant surgery, better done by a specialist. The x-rays were inconclusive. The blood tests were all normal except for an increased calcium level, which is a marker for possible cancer. Don gave him a long acting antibiotic shot (though there is so little research in bears, how long acting is a question). Our conclusion was that unless Major Bear received expert specialized care, soon, he was not likely to make it. The closest specialty teaching hospital was in Washington State, a 14 hour drive. They were not going to let us do a payment plan. The travel alone would be close to $1000 dollars and they requested we bring a blank check with us for potentially $3-4000 dollars – and that was just for immediate diagnosis and treatment. We have never had the luxury of setting aside enough money for a vet emergency fund. What to do? Let a bear die because of lack of money? We have never let that happen with an animal here and weren’t about to start.

It was Good Friday afternoon of Easter weekend when we got the test results back and the vets in Washington made themselves available for phone for consultation. At the very least, there was a bear dentist so we could ease that source of infection and discomfort. I contacted Major Bear’s official Auntie and most ardent admirer and shared with her his plight. She would have never forgiven us if we kept her in the dark until was too late, and we didn’t know how long Major Bear would last. The stress of the journey might prove fatal. Tuesday morning we received and e-mail from her –  funds will be arriving immediately! It is hard to express the profoundly loving quality of many of our supporters but this is an example.  The love and heartfulness behind the gifts are as nurturing and helpful as the gifts themselves.

The moment we knew we could bring the hospital a check, Jean swung into action, preparing a travel trailer. Could Jean have him there 8 am Wednesday morning when all the doctors could be standing by?  Jean would find a way. I started all the necessary logistic and legal arrangements for traveling with a bear across state borders. Late Tuesday afternoon we were finally ready and went to get Major Bear, wondering how it would work. Usually we invited him to go where we needed with food but he was completely uninterested at this point, and had been lying in his box unwilling to come out for days. How to get him to come out? Then to enter the travel trailer?

Jean backed the travel trailer as close as possible to his enclosure, about 30 feet, and opened the back to exhibit a spacious cozy travel cage filled with fresh fragrant hay and a bucket of cool well water. We opened the door to his enclosure, backed away and waited. Major Bear looked up, gradually got to his feet and peeked out of his box. Very slowly he came out and looked around. He explored a bit as we held our breath.  He walked to the trailer, put his head inside the doors and sniffed- it looked like he was about to go in…then a bird flew across the trailer screeching and startled him. Major Bear backed out. We waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Then, miracle of miracles – Major Bear, dear Major Bear, quietly, willingly, slowly, on his own, entered the trailer and the cage. His home with his own private box filled with hay was behind him; he knew what a travel cage was, having travelled before …yet he went in.

Jean took off, driving through the night on deserted roads to arrive at the vet hospital on time. The doctor and vet students came to see him and tranquilize him, 15 people standing there looking, all that energy coming at him. Major looked at Jean in a panic for reassurance. The doctor injected Major with a tranquilizer through the bars, Jean staying with him until he was under. As they took him off Jean asked to accompany him to the exam room. They were adamant that it was against hospital rules. Jean had to stand there as they took away his gentle bear. Jean, gentle also, and more obedient than I, exhausted from worry, stressful driving through the night and no sleep, told Major would be waiting right outside. I called a few minutes later to talk with Jean and they told me he was fast sleep in the waiting room.

Before they started the head doctor called and asked what to do if they found something ultimately incurable. Did I want to give a Do Not Resuscitate order?  No!  I did not!  No matter what, especially after that pleading look he gave Jean, Major Bear was going to wake up and come back, to heal, or die, at home.

They worked on him all day, doing CAT scans, ultrasound, x-rays, extensive blood work. They could find nothing, yet all the doctors felt something else was going on beside his teeth. The blood work again suggested a cancer, but if so, where?  They did what they could – removed his infected teeth; gave him more antibiotics, and a steroid in case it was lymphoma as they suspected. They hoped it would at least give him temporary relief and help his appetite. They felt really badly they couldn’t help more. Chemotherapy wasn’t an option. Not only didn’t we have a clear diagnosis; no one would know what the doses were, let alone how to administer and monitor it.  Also, while we will go to great lengths if we feel the animal wants to live, and there is a good chance of recovery and a good life, chemotherapy with no guarantee of results did not seem a reasonable option. So home he came.

Jean, not wanting to leave him any longer than necessary in a strange place, loaded him up late Wednesday and headed home again through the night. He finally reached his limit a few hours from home somewhere in Montana, took a nap in the truck and arrived, a bedraggled man, Thursday morning. He backed up the trailer, opened the door, and Major Bear, showing more animation than he had in a long time, made a bear bee-line for his box. He wanted out and he wanted home. Bears are very emotional beings.

His belly had been shaved for the ultrasound. As he walked out we saw masses of pink bear belly skin contrasting with his black fur. Jean, who had a chance to look closely, said there were stretch marks. Major Bear had been a plump bear before this (hence Major Bear). Somehow, the picture of stretch marks on his pink exposed belly made him seem so vulnerable.

It is worth noting that the bear dentist, who had been very removed and formal and medical-like, saying she would only approach him tranquilized, obviously was touched by him when she met him. She wrote on the end of her detailed medical report. “Thank you for bringing us Major Bear. He was a wonderful patient” in large letters. Even sick, Major Bear struck a blow for bear appreciation and understanding.

We hoped after a couple of days of recovering from the tooth surgery he would feel better, but he still did not eat. We tried one more round of antibiotics to help with the infection and another steroid shot to try to stimulate his appetite. At this point we had done all that the best available conventional medicine could provide. Now there were prayers, visits and anything else we could think of as long as it was un-intrusive. We had bothered him enough. One kind lady had suggested acupuncture. From a health point of view it would have been a good thing to try – but we would have to find an acupuncturist who was willing. And Major Bear would have had to allow it. If anyone knows of an acupuncturist willing to work on a large un-sedated and unhappy bear please let us know for the future!

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