Together we treated the cub and bandaged the wound. All the while, the mother stood nearby, motionless. Only her heavy breathing could be heard — she watched every move I made.

When we were done, I slowly stepped back. The bear carefully picked up her cub and, without looking back, disappeared into the forest.

It’s been several weeks since then. Sometimes, in the mornings, my wife and I see fresh tracks near the porch. And every time, I smile — because now I know who left them. 🐻🌲