Artist Trudy Moore Introduces Roscoe, the Family's Summer Visitor

"Roscoe," acrylic by Trudy Moore

Editor’s Note: Area writers were invited to submit poetry and/or prose to Studio B Art Gallery’s summer project “The Three Bears.” Writers were challenged to respond to the meanings of the words “bear” and “bare,” the Bear Fever sculptures or an aspect or theme from the fairy tale “Goldilocks & the Three Bears.” Their poetry and prose responses will be published in coming weeks in The Boyertown Area Expression digital news site (boyertownareaexpression.town.news). We hope you will enjoy the wide-ranging responses to the challenging theme.

Trudy Moore reads her essay during the Writers' Poetry/Prose Reading & Reception held at Studio B Art Gallery on June 29, 2025.

Does a Bear Poop in the Woods?

by Trudy Moore

As a family, we were lucky enough to build a cabin on a beautiful lake in the forest lands in the Adirondacks of upstate New York. We lived on a water access property which meant we went everywhere by boat. It took four summers to build the house, and then we were also fortunate enough to take sabbaticals and spend our daughter’s first year of life in what can only be described as God’s Country.

As time went on, we were fascinated by the different kinds of wildlife that we encountered. Everything from moose, to mink, to black bears, which brings me to the point of this story.

One summer, when our daughter, Kim, was about 2 years old, we had several visits from a black bear family; a mother and three cubs, one of which was the runt of the litter. They came through our land several times each summer, until one year, when Kim was 4, only the runt of the litter came to visit. We dubbed him Roscoe, and he would survey the property, mosey around looking for food, and then take his leave. We often observed that, as he left, he turned to say farewell.

It was a comfortable scene as Roscoe was used to us, and we were used to him. One day, when I was pushing Kim on the tire swing, he stood and watched, sat and watched, then waited until we departed for the house to give him room to wonder. He went straight for the tire swing, put his paws on the rim, and pushed it back and forth, showing he understood what we had done. As he frolicked around the property, Roscoe came upon Kim’s sandbox. Now, its just so happened that there was also a bird feeder hanging from a tree limb above the sandbox. Upon eyeing the situation, Roscoe sat himself down in the sandbox, pulled the bird feeder down to his level, and began munching away.

Looking from the big window in the living room, we all smiled, then laughed as it appeared Roscoe was struggling to get back up. He finally rolled over onto his feet , got out of the sandbox and began walking down the trail. And, as was his nature, he stopped, turned around, and , if a bear can smile, he gestured farewell.

Later, after lunch, we started to head for the lakeside. Kim took a moment to look at the sandbox. “Mom,” she shrieked, “Roscoe pooped in my sandbox!!”

Dad looked at me and said,” No time like the present to teach the little one some of the facts of life.”

With that said, he turned back to the house, shuffled through our wooden box on the porch, and returned with a large scoop. Normally, this was used to scoop water, but now it had a new and mighty purpose. Dad took Kim’s hand, returned to the sandbox and showed her how to scoop the remnants into a trash bag. “Ew, Dad, that’s gross,” retorted Kim.

Dad replied that all living creatures ate foods just like we did, and didn’t we have to use the bathroom? “Yeah, but Dad, this is a messy. Can’t we build him a toilet?”

Dad replied,”Roscoe, although a calm and friendly bear, is still wildlife and can’t be taught tricks like a dog. We needed to keep a respectful distance and just take care of things with Roscoe as they happen.”

As time went on, the situation often repeated itself, summer after summer. We even left the sandbox there when Kim had outgrown such things. But she never forgot to clean up after Roscoe, and she didn’t really mind scooping the poop. Indeed, a bear does poop in the woods.

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