Rescue Miscue

The ticking clock, the dripping tap, the humming fridge, the mewing cat, the itching arm, the bunching duvet, the smoking gun, the aching eye.

We may be kept awake by any or all of these. But I am kept awake by something else: my need to write a blog post. It's already the eighth of August. How did I get so far?

Earlier, someone on Twitter linked to a video of a bear rescuing a cow from drowning. It said what it was, right there on the tweet.

"This I have to see!" I thought.

How could a bear rescue a cow from drowning? Cows are massive. Bears are pretty big, but cows are huge. For a bear to rescue a cow, it would have to really, really want to do it. It couldn't just be a whim. It would have to work hard, testing the very limits of its bear strength.

And, as I clicked on the link, I tried to imagine a situation where a bear would be so interested in rescuing a cow. I couldn't think of one. It wouldn't serve the bear's evolutionary needs. Unless it wanted to eat the cow, I suppose. But why not just wait for it to drown? Let nature wield the axe. Let the bear reap the soggy rewards.

"This video is going to answer a lot of questions," I thought.

I began to watch it. The cow looked strange. I couldn't work out why. After a few seconds, it hit me: the cow was a bird.

"Ah," I thought.

"r," I thought.

Not cow. Crow.



I'd misread it.

A bear didn't save a cow. It couldn't. It wouldn't.

But it did save a crow. Which is pretty impressive, I guess.

The experience taught me a valuable lesson: always read tweets carefully. Avoid disappointment by double-checking that cows aren't crows.

Also, bears can be lifeguards now. They can sit on one of those tall chairs at the beach.