Black Bear

Just at sunset, Indy and I walked out for a constitutional.  We hadn't gotten far before Indy was barking furiously.  She was so worked up she practically fell over.  I looked in the direction she was barking.  There was a bear.  It checked us out for a moment and then turned to flee back towards the woods.  Indy and I continued on.  A pack of coyotes starting up a songfest.  No need to be concerned.  Together, the dog and I are Masters of our Domain.  When we got back home, I sat at my computer.  I can see the meadow from my desk.  Watched the doe and fawn wake up, graze, and head toward the pond.  Next time I looked up there was the bear looking at the house.  I was ticked.  Royally ticked.  How dare that bear come back so soon after we scared him off!    I ran out on the deck and started yelling in German.  The bear took off across the meadow toward the woods again.  I didn't stop yelling until I'd gone through my entire repertoire of German epithets.   Why German?  I think anything said in German carries more gravitas (and I don't know Klingon.)