MY FAILED HIBERNATION

This long silence started with an email from a friend from the South (actually Nelson, BC), a brown bear with the name of Roosevelt. He said that I shouldn't complain so much on behalf of polar bears about the climate up here. According to Roosevelt, brown bears were wandering in the forests, all screwed-up and confused with the environmental changes. "We simply can't hibernate!, it's too warm and soggy inside our dens! If you don't believe me, jut try it!" He seemed very depressed. (You would also be depressed if scientist decide to label you with a name like Ursus Arctos Horribilis. That is his name. It is a horrible name. So he changed it to Roosevelt, I guess in hommage to the US president, and being an omnivore grizzly as he is, Rossevelt has a penchant for lost American hunters. He says they are a bit bigger and chewy than slinky Canadians)
So I did try to hibernate. It feel OK for the first week or two. But after that it was hell. It was like trying to sleep under a pile of wet towels after a sweaty hockey game. It was like going to the Bahamas inside a parka. If Roosevelt thinks that I shouldn't complain about the weather, he is really the one who shouldn't complain. After all, there are about 200,000 brown bears in the world. The largest populations are in Russia, with 120,000, the United States, with 32,500, and Canada with 21,750. In comparison, Polar Bears like me, we number only 25,000 in the entire planet. Better, in the whole Solar System. We have to reproduce. And fast. For this 2007 I'll dedicate myself to such noble and titillating endeavor.